The Unchained flashes a satisfied grin at everyone.
Iliberos chuckles, "Was not entirely sure how that spell would effect such creatures. I've spent so much time ministering to the living my experimentation upon undead was somewhat limited..."
Lhienne breathes heavily "I was not ready for that..."
"That was rather... unpleasant. Pardon me while I treat my wounds. Lhienne, I notice that the vile flock seems to have clawed and pecked you as well. Would you like for me to tend your wounds as well"?
Xar frowns a bit just before drawing his holy symbol... "Or we could just take a rest and regather our wits before proceeding. My Magic might be more useful on things going forward"?
Xar picks up his shortsword from a dead pile of birds, and wipes it on a piece of cloth torn from the bottom of his shirt.
Zukhan wipes bird dust and rotten feathers from his shoulders. "Whatever lives in this ravine knows we are here now, yeah? May not due to give them another hour to prepare for us." The Asaatthi holds out the potion of healing that he found earlier. "Anyone that is wounded is welcome to the potion we found."
"Agreed, I'll keep back if you would rather spare the magic, Xar."
"Agreed, Xar, tend to your wounds and stay in the middle of the pack with me that we may press forward at least a bit farther".
"Alright, we push ahead."
The teeth stop clacking, sending the ravine into silence as you pick your way single file into the necromancer's ravine. The passage opens after about 60 feet into a 30 foot wide box canyon, the walls rough and craggy with deep fissures within. The scent of rotting flesh fills your nostrils, barely mitigated by the open sky above. On one side of the canyon is a pile of refuse- discarded bones, wasting flesh and various sickly bits of carrion. Flies buzz through the air, picking over the noisome mess.
Directly opposite the narrow path by which you entered is a large military tent, the flap closed tightly. The barking of a hound comes from within, but nothing emerges from the tent as you enter the area.
"Lhienne. You take the potion. I'll use one spell now, and save one for later. I would not be so foolish as to enter combat this injured".
Cure Wounds
Djal almost immediately slips on a puddle of blood on the canyon floor, his rapier clattering against the rocks. Four shapes advance from the tent as one. Four humans chained together at the neck, all wearing sackcloth clothing and gruesome wounds, eyes dangling from sockets, intestines sagging from pierced abdomens. The grotesque wall of flesh starts advancing toward Djal and the party in unison.
From behind them emerges a man in stained white robes, a scalpel in one hand and a tome in the other.
"Why do you disturb me? I've very important work to do that doesn't concern you in the least. Turn around and leave and I will forgive you your trespass.", he says.
A wet thump emerges from within the tent, followed by the bark of a hound.
Zukhan's jaw drops at the sight of the unliving wall of bodies lumbering toward them. He briefly considers taking the necromancer up on his offer to leave without incident, but when Djal speaks up, he decides to see how the half-elf's gambit plays out.
"Halt.", the necromancer says and the wall of slave zombies stop. Looking this close, they seem particularly fresh.
"It is rare enough to encounter anyone outside of Chardunahae with the proper taste for my craft, particularly a scholar of the trade.", he says, arrogant pride welling from his voice. He turns toward Iliberos.
"The Devil's March is fertile enough for our purposes, wouldn't you say?"
"But as for patronage, I can think of none better than the Ministers of my home and the Celestial Order they represent...."
"... but enough of my babbling- you must be tired.", he says to Djal and Iliberos. "Come in, I have some small amenities to offer you and you can see my repair work in progress."
...Previously:
Lhienne looks at the potion, in her old life it would have been a small fortune to her. certainly it would have been kept away from the servants. Now she was encouraged to drink it... How times had changed.
...And Now
Lhienne kept quiet and waited for some signal from the others. She certainly didn't trust this man enough to rest in his home...
Thankful for the holy healing, Xar squints and scrutinizes the untrustworthy individual.
Insight
Iliberos is skeptical and pauses for a moment though he does smile and nod at the Necromancer's pronouncements. This is not the first time he has seen "work" not all of the denizens of Hollowfaust are savory individuals.
Iliberos responds, "Yes, I'd certainly be interested in the process. Few have the ahh, stomach for such delicate work".
Iliberos turns to the Unchained, Zukhan, and Lhienne mouthing, 'stay here but come in if you hear battle...'.
Iliberos is not sure about Djal's gambit but for now he would play along.
Xar shrugs, and joins the invited and seemingly welcome. Well curosity always was my greatest weakness... and virtue.
The Unchained nods, signifying his understanding of Iliberos' intent.
Djal, Xar and Iliberos enter the tent after the necromancer. The four zombies chained together back up to stand in front of the tent flap.
Incense fills the air inside of the tent, puffing from a censer on the floor and somewhat masking the scent of death that clings to everything. On your right is what looks like a makeshift operating theater- a folding table draped in a leather cloth has one of the undead hounds you fought earlier splayed out upon it, its flesh peeled away and pinned to expose the spinal column and the shattered hips. A tray of hand drills, saws, screws and metal plates sits next to the cadaver. The dog's head turns to face you, eye unblinking. It barks once before being shushed by its master. A bloody bucket of parts sits nearby on the floor.
On the left side is bedroll on a simple wooden cot, a water barrel and a crate of provisions. A camp chair sits nearby next to a folded out trunk full of liquor bottles, labels written in the Charduni dwarf dialect, along with some dented drinkware.
"As I've told you, the only patronage that matters to me is that of Minister Noxcis and the Great General. I fulfill my duty and in so doing advance and protect our great society.", the white-robed man says. "Now, who do you serve, I wonder? Surely you don't simply wander the Devil's March offering anyone you find a new job and a tower?"
He holds up a bottle and a tin cup.
"A drink?"
Zukhan, Lhienne and The Unchained are left on their own outside. Flies buzz on the refuse pile and the four slave zombies stare straight ahead, bound together at the neck.
He pours four cups and sets them down before you. The liqueur smells of almonds.
"I'm saying that I will never betray my nation's rulers or their interests. And that includes taking bribes or patronage from outsiders- or revealing overmuch of my methods to a competing interest, no matter how remote.", he says, gesturing with his cup to Iliberos.
"What would you wish this extra labor for? Are not your servants adequate? I can give you some pointers on how to extract more eager service from them if you wish to exchange information."
Zukhan shifts nervously and takes a step back from the zombie wall. "If we hear fighting, how do we get around that thing?"
"Cut our way though?"
Iliberos picks up the cup and swirls it not taking a sip quite yet.
He walks closer to the experiments to "admire" the man's handiwork.
Knowledge Arcana
Medicine
"Tell me, have you been bothered overmuch operating in this area by Titanspawn?"
The necromancer takes a sip of his liqueur.
"I've had some run-ins... spider-eye goblins are thick around here. Unfortunately the bodies were too mangled to be of use when my slaves were done with them... What's brought you this far west?"
In terms of handiwork, it's proficient as far as you can see- which is pretty good considering the conditions.
You notice that he didn't really sip his beverage either.
The Unchained flexes his muscles and sketches a couple of vicious strikes with his sword.
The necromancer nods.
"'Research'. I see."
He raises his cup once more to take a sip.
"I can see this conversation is going nowhere.", he says. Before Djal can respond, your host tosses the contents of his cup into the bard's face!
The liqueur splashes on Djal's face before he can react, a stinging sensation spreading through his eyes and mouth! He starts to feel ill!
"CONSTRICT!", shouts the necromancer from within the tent and the four zombies lumber after The Unchained!
Initiative
Zukhan 16
Necromancer and Hound 12
Zombies 8
Djal, Xar, Lhienne 6
Unchained 5
Iliberos 4
"Ugghh... really did not want to fight this thing." Zukhan says nervously. "Hopefully it is slow." The Asaatthi pulls his bow and looses and arrow at the abomination.
He'll then back up 30 feet.
Round 1
Zukhan fires an arrow into one end of the zombie chain gang, neatly piercing her neck.
Within the tent, the Necromancer chants a spell and points at Xar!
"Darkness descend!"
Xar-Nixx's sight is clouded, rendering him blind!
The undead hound splayed out on the table attempts to nip at Iliberos!
It's still powerful jaws clamp onto the elf's arm while he pulls at its stitches, sending searing pain through his wrist!
Outside, the zombies converge on The Unchained, attempting to pummel him into submission!
While the half-orc's shield and thick hide are enough to shrug off two of the zombie's lunges, two manage to bludgeon him with their dead fists!
Iliberos gasps in pain and summons a magical orb to smash upon the head of the Necromancer.
Ranged Attack
Damage
Xar throws himself into the side or back of the tent, attempting to bring it down around them all, and escape in the tangle.
The Unchained's vision turn red.