Podrick remembers finding a book about these creatures while cataloging Garen's library back in Mudsedge. According to the research in that volume, half-farspawn creatures seem to have senses much like the slug-creatures the group fought earlier, though their echolocation is of a much higher pitch. They are not immune to mind-affecting spells, but as the gnome is no longer really a gnome, it would not be affected by spells targeting humanoids. Half-farspawn are immune to poison, which might explain why this individual included himself in the cloud of vapors.
Podrick also thinks that the gnome-thing's gelid form is so amorphous that he must be hacked apart wholly to be destroyed. His coruscating flesh is an affront to the minds of creatures of this world, and he is thus slightly harder for those creatures to hit.
Aught takes advantage of Podrick's wide opening in the coral wall and strikes at the mob.
Aught swings through the opening, neatly separating one transformed triaxian's head from its torso. As the window closes behind his blade, he sees the mob trampling the corpse and can smell its odious blood.
Podrick glides over the field, notes still rippling out to maintain the form of the cage; "Well fought, friends, well fought! Only a little more whittling down to go I would say..." Still vibrantly colorful as if fresh from the sea itself, the coral cage traps the crowd of madpeople like rats in a trap.
Suddenly, the half-farspawn speaks. "Project your arms to the up west," it says, voice calm, almost gnomish, but for a strange disjointedness. Suchak, Horn, and Podrick cannot see how it can talk, given that the interior of its skull is still distended and waving.
As the creature speaks, it points up at Podrick, then steps towards the wall, beginning to squelch and gibber again. It thrusts one hand in flourishes almost like those of a sorcerer, then suddenly splits into seven identical copies.
Suchak unleashes a flury of attacks at the new cadre of gnome things.
Suchak's attacks never hit their mark, but he does thin out the field of images for his companions.
Horn flies over the 'walled pen' and throws a flurry of snowballs down at the mob and the farspawn-gnome.
The false gnomes quickly vanish as Suchak's starknife sails through them. Horn's snowballs then rain down on the crowd, coating them in freezing water that seems to actually slow down what parts of the monsters are still heat-loving summerborn.
The half-farspawn dodges most of the flurry, but a freezing ice glob sticks in his mouth-nest, and another tears through the flesh of one of his cartilaginous fingers. Voice now slightly chilled with rage, he intones, "No, still those above."
At the direction of the bleeding warrior, the mob throws another scattering of rocks and weapons up at Suchak, now catching the whirlwind in their throws.
Suchak dodges all of the thrown items without even trying.
Again, Aught swings his mighty bardiche through Podrick's openings in an attempt to wittle the monstrous mob down.
Aught fumbles his first swing, falling slightly off-balance, but shifts back to his center and cleaves through four of the monsters in two more strikes.
Podrick's notes rise to a new crescendo, the coral prison rippling and growing at his direction. A small chimney extends up from the coral, high enough as to be nearly impossible to climb out from, yet easy for Horn to launch is snowballs down into the horde. Idly cartwheeling with satisfaction, Podrick readies to open another portal for Suchak when asked. "Keep on, fellows!"
Podrick maintains the coral prison, still ready to sing open windows when his companions strike.
Inside the prison, the gnome switches its grasp on its axe. It lifts the blade up over its head, cleaves through the wall of the prison, and brings the bloody head down towards Aught's shoulder. In the blink of an eye, it steps up and grasps for the Keeper with the four claw-tipped tentacles protruding from its mouth, then swings the blade again at the Keeper's midsection.
In the light of Podrick's ice-torches, you see Aught now has a deep cut through what would be a collarbone on a humanoid, and has a long gash in the side. The Winter Guard has also been slashed across the face by a couple of the half-farspawn's tentacles, though the other two glanced off harmlessly.
Also in the light of those torches, you notice the mob watching their leader's strikes. "Pass through," the gnome-thing says over his shoulder, and you can see some of the monsters already moving towards his wall.
Seeing the horrid once-gnome tear into his companion, Horn-the-whirling-wind flies down behind Aught (taking care not to create an opening for the viscious axe) and calls on the healing winds of the Ghoan prairie to blow over the Winter Guard...taking the edge off the worst of his injuries.
Suchak continues to try and hit the mutated gnome, hopefully before he kills one of their ompanions.
Suchak dissipates one of the mirages surrounding the gnome, then with two quick throws nearly severs the monster's "head" from its neck. A sickening odor emits from the quickly-leaking wound, and you can tell that the creature is only staying upright thanks to its twisted anatomy.
Some creatures can transform themselves into whirlwinds and remain in that form for up to 1 round for every 2 HD they have.
Horn-the-whirling-wind flies across the battlefield and quickly descends behind and above his wounded companion. Whisking the air of the Plains of Ghoa around his friend, he closes the shoulder gash and begins to rebuild the stone where the gnome's tentacles lashed it. Hiding behind and above the warrior, he is able to avoid opening himself to an attack from the monster.
As Horn casts his spell, one of the transformed triaxians at the head of the mob gingerly pushes its arm through the wall. The mob, screeching and gurgling in surprise, quickly follows through the coral wall and begins swarming around the Keeper, pressing in and hacking with rubble and pitchforks. A few stab their broken implements up at the being of wind above them.
If not, use the same rolls with an attack bonus of +15 and an attack bonus of +5
The gnome's vicious attack sends the Keeper into a rage. Arcane energy manifests around Aught and his skin begins to crackle with a bright orange energy. He becomes a messy blur of volatile energies.
"Foul monster!"
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Aught slashes two of the mob members as they move past him, then pushes back through the press to swing at the tiny man. As glowing energy swirls around his body, he becomes more difficult to hit, but his strikes only manage to discharge the gnome's last false image.
"Containment sadly seems folly... Back away, I should say!"
Momentarily ending his medley, the coral prison shatters into disappearing dust as the cetakin flies back a little, then takes a breath and sings the sun down to strike the crowd. "Lonely is the swim of the deep sea angler, yet its kind create the stars!" he trills in whalesong then common.
The gnome's corrupted magic seems to flare into a nigh-visible aura around it, saving it from the cleansing, shadowy sun. The searing heat engulfs nearly a fifth of the mob, however, bubbling their flesh and leaving a half-score of blackened, withered bodies as the fire fades. The smell is acrid, but also slightly reminiscent of boiled stonesnails.
Only about two-thirds of the squelching morass is still moving.
Stepping forward through the press, the gnome swings its axe at the whirlwind floating above.
It swipes through the pure air of Horn's elemental body, slightly disrupting the energy that keeps him from diffusing in the four winds.
Suchak holds his Starknife between both hands and it begins to spin of its own accord, glowing faintly with an inner fire.
"I'm going to pin him down. If he's still alive, finish him off!" Suchak cries down to Aught and Horn.
Suchak focuses himself, and fires his weapon at Kthunk, battering him with a whirlwind that seeks to drive him to the ground and hold him there.
The blazing starknife spins down and bears the gnome to the ground, tearing it to gibbets. Foul-smelling ichor splatters over Aught, Horn, and the crowd around them, and there seem to be only shreds of muscle and cartilage remaining once the whirlwind clears.
Horn howls like the bitter wind as the once-gnome's blade damages his wind-form.
He flies further up into the air and sends a swarm of night-bicas down to try to damage and distract it.
_____________
The thin wings of the night-bicas make a keening sound as they coalesce around the heads of the mob. One creature with only a lumpy, spined pseudopod below its waist topples over, bleeding from a thousand bites. The mob seems mostly focused on beating back the bats, but is having little success.
The alabaster beast lets out a hoarse roar as a burst of yellow and red energy swirls about him.
His smallest wounds healed, he continues to swing at the mob.
Aught half-seals some of the scratches the mob's given him, then swings his blade with renewed frenzy. Half a dozen transformed triaxians fall to pieces as he hacks away.
Suchak determines himself to end the threat of the mob this round as well.
He cracks his knuckles and grips his starknife tights, and the metal grows denser, with jagged teeth showing themselves on the edges of the blades.
"Mayhaps some light to blind and not guide... Oh do forgive me, onwards fellows!" Podrick shouts encouragement along with another medley of notes: "Glow of the sea, danger or guide; bring unto me the truth!"
A shower of golden sand bursts down onto the crowd, blinding their eyes.
The eastern portion of the writhing mob grows even more disorganized as it is blinded by Podrick's scintillating storm of sand. They are completely blindsided by Suchak's flurry of heavy, damaging starknives, each of which barrel through swathes of the transformed townsfolk, hacking off tentacles and squirming sacs. Only a third of the gelid humanoids remain standing, and the bats swarm around those few.
The mob disperses, fleeing the bats. Several of the corrupted townsfolk take a swing at Aught, but they seem sluggish, lacking their earlier hunger.
Fighting through the pain, Aught grips his bardiche tighter and continues to swing violently.
Aught spins his bardiche around, cleaving through the last remaining transformed townsfolk to assail him. A few wounded creatures squelch feebly away, but should you choose to pursue them they are quickly cut down. The night-bica swarm, meanwhile, flutters around Aught for another few seconds before falling to dust as Horn breaks the spell.
The bloody battle is over in less than a minute, and you are left with the gruesome aftermath. About fifty corrupted townsfolk, their flesh soft and warm and odious, lie dead on the cobblestones. The half-farspawn gnome, probably the same Kthunk Cihlar described to you before, has been torn to ribbons. His greataxe and breastplate, however, seem relatively undamaged, along with a couple vials of red liquid, a cloak, and an amulet.
The night is still cold and damp, and now the square is suffused with the stench of dying monsters. On the ground, yellow blood mixes with mud from this afternoon's rains, and the blood of whole triaxians and other humanoids from several nights before. You see Yellow Signs painted on many buildings, and note again the lone floating corpse at the bottom of the Amphitheater.
After about half a minute, you hear shouts from behind and see orange torchlight approaching. Constable Radcliff is carrying a longsword and a torch, and walks at the head of the militia. "Ho! Podrick of Mudsedge, Horn Season-Keeper, and allies! Do you live?"
"We're fine, mostly!" Suchak calls in reply, though he's somewhat distracted by recovering his used abilities.
Horn spies nothing hostile coming towards the group.
The constable leads his force to the edge of the square, then wades through the slough of stinking bodies to speak to Aught and anyone else who comes to ground level. "Gods, you look like you could use a rest. Or a drink. I'll have Waehyra find you four a place to wash up and get some food, and we'll take care of the cleanup. Before you go, tell me - did you see the mayor?"
Suchak flickers from sight and reappears on the ground next to the constable.
"I didn't see him myself, so he may still be out here...assuming he's not one of these poor souls." Suchak says, gesturing towards the dead and corrupted townsfolk.
The keeper falls to his knees, supporting himself only by his trusty polearm. Polychromatic ichor oozed from the various wounds on his body, in shimmering reds, yellows, and indigos. As he speaks, Aught struggles to catch his breath. "Aye, w-what a battle. Heh it's been q-q-quite awhile since I've par-partaken in a scrap like that."
He pulls himself up and staggers his way towards the others, tightly gripping his side.
Horn-the-whirling-wind descends. In the voice of a whipping wind he asks the Constable "Where might he be? I am happy to aid in the search, if useful."
Then, turning to his companions, he says, "I have a wand here which can help you to recover, though it isn't instantaneous. Gather round and I will heal you."
Glancing over at the remains of the once-gnome, he adds to Podrick, ”While I tend to the wounded, do you want to see if there’s anything of use to be found on his remains?”
HP 49/69
Place Magic 9/9
Totem Transformations 9/9
Walk the Lines 6/6
Wild Shape (dinosaur) 1/2
Wild Shape (other) 1/2
Pounce 2/2
Druid (Saurian Shaman) Spells Remaining (CL 9th; concentration +15):
. . 5th—blessing of the salamander (DC 21), control winds [D] (DC 21), stoneskin
. . 4th—air walk, aspect of the stag [D], cure serious wounds, flame strike (DC 20)
. . 3rd—cure moderate wounds, haste [D], remove disease, sleet storm, wind wall
. . 2nd—barkskin, chameleon stride [D], flurry of snowballs (DC 18), lesser restoration, resist energy (2), summon swarm
. . 1st—call animal, expeditious excavation, faerie fire, magic fang, mount [D], obscuring mist, windy escape
. . 0 (at will)—create water, detect magic, purify food and drink (DC 16), read magic
Buffs Air elemental form (7 hrs) +2 dex, +2 nat armor, darkvision, 60’ flight, whirlwind ability
Constable Radcliff nods. "We'll look for him. He wasn't turned monstrous, judging by his voice, but he was surely out of his wits and may be hiding now." He turns to Horn. "I would be honored by your assistance. We heard him yelling from the Amphitheater earlier."
As Horn and his friends are healed, the Constable splits his forces into teams of six. One group heads back towards the barricade to deliver news of your success, one group heads down to check the Amphitheater for Mayor Bresnik, and three more groups head off to search the rest of the city center for any surviving townsfolk, whether corrupted or not. Radcliff and the gnome with the broken glasses stay behind. "Feel free to take those," Radcliff tells you, indicating Kthunk's old combat gear. "He had no family here."
The gnome offers a hand to each group member. "I'm Waehyra, by the way. Once you're ready we'll go down to the docks and see if we can't get an inn to open up for you all. It's the least we can do, after what you just did."
After about half a minute, you hear a shout from the stage area at the bottom of the Amphitheater. "Found him! Sir, I'm sorry!" you hear a woman's voice yell. Shortly afterwards, the team climbs to the top of the Amphitheater, carrying a limp, wet corpse between them. One of the men, his eyes downcast, explains, "It's Mayor Bresnik. I think the mob ran over him, 'cause his head's all bashed in. You won't want to look, Colbert."
"That is...unfortunate. We are sorry we couldn't save him."
Constable Radcliff nods, grimacing. He stares blankly at the Mayor's broken form until Waehyra prods him.
"Colbert, why don't you take them six and go get the rest of the bodies? I'll look after these heroes," the gnome says, straightening the broken glasses.
The Constable tears his gaze away to look at the travelers again. "Yes, I'll do that. I may see you four tomorrow. If not, warm wishes and many thanks." He stumbles off towards the lip of the Amphitheater.