"Well," Darian says apprehsively, "this sounds fun," the sarcasm thick in his voice. "Look forward to dealing with THAT again. I've seen what evil fey and their ilk can do. One almost killed the youngest Delronge lad on a hunting trip I was on with them. Barely managed to save his life..."
Phineas will beckon towards his friends, seeking to get the group up the ladder and away from where the Grimples might hear before speaking.
Once at the top, Phineas turns to his companions and sighs, letting concern show on his features. "I hope I was not out of line. I merely thought the creatures simple scavenging beasts, with us invading their home, and hoped to avoid bloodshed. But dark fey..." Phineas shakes his head. "That's a trap they've agreed to there. The only thing I can't tell is whether they'll leave us to their "boss" if we meet our end of the bargain and simply delight in whatever it does to us, or if they'll actively try to stab us in the back when we encounter whatever it is. How do you all best think we should proceed?"
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"I don't like the idea of leaving them there." Isabel replies. "While they don't seem to be causing much harm yet, I could imagine them becoming a problem in future. Perhaps if we investigate further, and confront their boss we might get somewhere. If we can defeat him then maybe the grimples would flee? I don't want them around to try snatching any children though..." She adds with a shudder.
"And if one flees and is found by the Dottari," Darian says with a shake of his head, "then it may lead them back here, willingly...or not." Darian says with a look of concern to Isabel.
"Yes, yes, they could track us and attack us, and we'd still be no worse off. I've been mauled by that dog and giant rats today already. And think of what Rexus has told us! If it's true, if it's only half true, there's so much we might learn! Anyway, how long have these, um, evil fey been down here already without detection? And this master they're speaking of? I'd bet we're safe, at least in the short term."
"My concern is with one of these being caught by the Dottari and interrogated," Darian interjects. "How long do you think it would, or could, resist their...methods?"
Galen seems reticent to speak up, but as the debate on what the grimples could do goes on, he finally does so.
"Um, well I don't want to sound like I know better or anything of the sort...but to me as a Varisian, well, I just think most of you Cheliaxans would just smash them in superior disgust and wouldn't give a second thought to anything more involved, like um interrogation. And the Dottari seem to be only interested in smashing and not anything more nuanced."
Galen seems trying not to offend them, but now that he's spoken he continues on. "And the grimples are dark fey, yes, but they're more like...well the folk tales talk about gremlins, that cause foul mischief and break things and steal and hurt us where they can get away with it. But they're flighty, sort of, like brownies and other light fey, not the type to track you down unless you drew them a nice big map or something obvious and close. They may hate, but it's not about vengeance. It doesn't surprise me that they may be here in this abandoned place...and if we give them everything they want it also wouldn't surprise me that they break their word and try to harm us. But whenever we leave here I think they don't follow."
"Your opinion on Chelaxians is not very flattering, Galen", interjects Varian with a smirk, "but you're probably right about the Dottari. That does not mean that you should feel free to repeat such words of accusation against my own people in the future, at least not without evidences that what you're saying applies to all Chelaxians...". Varian hunches. "Otherwise, we could similarly say that Varisians are all dancers, as they call them in Korvosa...Thieves and criminals with an attitude for dancing. These are just stereotypes, we should stop thinking among these lines. We're...We're better than that. Anyway, as long as we're using these assumptions to reach a shared end, I'm in. But please, don't assume all Chelaxians are haughty and rushed, because we're not. Not all of us, anyway".
"Of course Varian...but..." answers Galen with a nod of understanding, followed by a slight quirk of the mouth and a brief glint of humor in his eyes, "...well but it's true that all Varisians are dancers and thieves! It's all very well assumed and understood by the families that way you see."
Avrora stifles a chuckle behind her gauntlet. She certainly wasn't expecting a Varisian to admit to the stereotype they're of course all familiar with.
"Well, even if Chelaxian's aren't all mad dogs, I wouldn't put it past the Dottari to crack some skulls, teeth, and worse in the name of whatever their crusade of the week entails. Still, I think we should proceed, even with the, grimples you called them? I'm sure Milani will hear our prayers, Varian, and keep us safe." She smiles in encouragement, hoping she sounds at all convincing.
"Anyway, aren't you just burning up with curiosity to know what that music is?"
Varian's eyes go wide when Galen admits the common, and negative stereotype about his people. Shaking his head, the Chelaxian man gives the Varisian an intense look. "You realize that what you just said makes you a thief, don't you? I suppose I should keep my eyes on my pouch then". Varian sketches a laugh, then nods to Avrora. "I agree. They will play some nasty trick on us, of that I'm sure, but we can't give up on this. Let's go down and proceed. I'll lead the way."
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Isabel is openly smiling by the end of the conversation, mirth dancing in her eyes and across her face as the previously serious conversation degenerates, pleasantly, into banter. "Well as long as we are on the subject of stereotypes I want to say, as the only non-human, that I am neither arrogant, stuck up or unnaturally beautiful." She pauses for a second, peers closely at first Galen, then Varian and then smiles. "Well, compared to present some company perhaps I am at least one of those three!"
She pauses before looking around to the rest of the group. "We are agreed then? We carry on with the exploration and if those things attack us then we defend ourselves? Very well." Isabel follows Varian, aiming to be firmly in the middle of the group.
Galen gives a chuckle and a 'you caught me' type of resigned shrug to Varian, then bows low to Isabel with a rather dramatic flourish that can only be part of his performance acts. "Indeed m'lady! Masters Hopwise, Zephyrus, Galen...and whomever else rumble about in my head are at your service!"
With that he takes up his place near the back of the group with Rexus next to him, his candle lamp and special Varisian crystal in one hand with the other hand free.
Phineas gives a small snort at Galen's description his cultural stereotypes, but otherwise stays silent and listens as a consensus course of action forms. "I admit, I am not terribly happy about dealing with these creatures, and your descriptions of them make me like it less and less. However, I am exceedingly curious about whatever is making that music, and having come this far, I have no intention of turning back now. I think it might be wise for us to procure the blankets I promised the Grimples; even if they in all likelihood will not honor our deal, if there is a chance of avoiding bloodshed for the cost of a few scraps of cloth, I will gladly bear the expense. If you are willing to wait a quarter hour before descending, I am sure I could acquire a small stack from Kelimber's and return."
Phineas gathers some blankets and pillows and returns after about thirty minutes. The grimple ambassador sniffs them and crows some kind of approval after which four more grimples race down and begin squabbling over the new linens during which a small pillow fight seems to erupt.
Once the exchange is settled, the party is free to travel to the southeast. But first a rusty grating stands as the next barrier to further exploration. It is locked.
Before Grimple can leave, Darian calls to him, "Hey, Grimple, buddy. How do you open this grate?"
The grimple looks at Darian with a slight snarl. The thing sure is ugly, and its expression probably just translates to quizzical.
"Open? Grimples never need to open." As if to demonstrate, it leaps up and clumsily flies over to the grating.
Then it simply walks through the bars and raises its hands as if waiting for applause at its trick.
Darian, suddenly remembering, fumbles around for the key they found earlier. Then, after studying the lock for traps these things may have placed on it as a joke, he cautiously tests the key...
Avrora realizes she's been holding her breath. When the rusty lock clicks open, she puffs her cheeks and exhales loudly. She steps lightly through the sawdust, trying to ignore the bits of refuse and filth, casting her light around to get a good feel for the room's dimensions.
She pauses near Darian and the grimple, eyeing it cautiously. "Um, thanks," she says awkwardly, trying not to make too great a show of checking for hazards down the stairs.
"Well, here goes nothing." She steps slowly down the stairs toward the double doors, her hand clutching her weapon so tightly it feels numb. She halts before them to listen for any sounds from beyond, especially that eerie music. She motions for the others to follow.
At this time, no one sees anything amiss...just years of grime and decay. The double doors are not locked and open easily. The grimple ambassador pops into one of the many wall holes with an unnerving chuckle.
"Don't forget to wash!" are the last words it speaks before vanishing. The other grimples also scamper to the wall and hide.
As Avrora and Darian move forward their lights begin to shine around the room to reveal a disturbing scene.
A fifty-foot-diameter pool of rancid, brown slurry fills most of this circular chamber. Chunks of plaster have fallen away, leaving ragged patches behind in the walls and ceiling and mounds of rubble on the floor. What wall space remains is decorated in crude drawings and symbols of sinister form. Greasy-looking chains run between four stout pillars rising from the muck and anchor to various points on the wall.
The rather unhealthy looking fluid in the cistern seems to move and bubble.
As if an answer to Isabel's statements, the ear-jarring pipe music plays a riff, echoing throughout the cistern.
The fluid burbles and shifts.
"Well isn't that just splendid," Darian says as he cautiously steps inside and takes in the environs. Looking at the filthy substance in the pit, he adds, "So who feels up to a bath?"
Darian can see what appears to be a curved railing to his right which curves in the same direction as the pool. He can also see rubble across the floor in places. Time has not been kind to this place.
Avrora enters the room and gasps lightly as the jarring music plays. "What manner of devilry is this? Davis, have you ever heard of such a thing before?". She glances toward Phineas.
Phineas follows closely behind his companions, peering nervously around the corner, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he takes in the sight of the infernal pit.
"I...no, nothing quite like this. This scrawl is all in Infernal, and appears to be various litanies and invocations to the power of Hell. Phineas waves a hand vaguely at the writing on the walls. "I don't know if this is a summoning chamber gone awry, or the mad ravings of a lunatic. The summoning chambers I have been in were certainly much better maintained." One of the perks of being powerful enough summon devils, you usually don't have to do it in such dank surroundings. This seems different somehow. Possibly some sort of cult that did not understand what they beseeched, instead of a powerful wizard or cleric?
"I don't know about any of you, but there is no possible way I am going to wash in that water. Perhaps we could throw something small into it to see if it attracts attention?"
Galen says nothing to the discussion on what might lie within the depths of the foul chamber, and merely draws a dagger instead from the wrist sheath on his free hand. He stares intently for a moment at the bubbling pool of filth, and suddenly four motes of light appear over it, bobbing and weaving at various points as if to act as bait for the fish.
Avrora takes a few fretful steps toward the pool in the center of the room. "H-hello?" She calls out, in case the mysterious musician is listening. "I'm a bit lost. Um, maybe you can help me find my way out?"
Varian arrives in the room herding a rather apprehensive Rexus.
"I sure hope we find what we came for soon," Rexus mutters nervously.
As Galen's dancing lights play and flirt over the muck, a goopy shape almost like a hand seems to swat at them lazily.
Avrora steps forward just then and calls out to the darkness.
In response the muck begins to swirl and bubble. Disgusting splatters and noises better left undescribed erupt from the cistern's fetid water. Two odd shapeless figures suddenly rise to their feet where they had been lying prone in the filthy water. Perhaps they had been following the griples instructions to bathe? Regardless, they seem unhappy to be interrupted and angrily bellow their hostile intent. The fetid muck drips down their bodies, distorting their mostly humanoid forms into unrecognizable dimensions...or is there more to it?
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Encounter: "The Gratuitously Dirty, Devilishly Obligatory Bathhouse Scene"
Conditions: Mucky water, rubble (difficult terrain)
Current Order:
22: Avrora
16: Goopman 2
15: Goopman 1, Rexus
13: Isabel, Varian
12: Darian
07: Phineas
05: Galen
"Watch out, Avrora!" Varian's tongue is quicker than his hand. With a resolute tone, the Chelaxian man squints and gives a knowing look at his ally. "They're lemures! Lesser devils! You'll need aligned weapons, or silver. Ah, and don't use fire, everyone! They're resistant to it"
Here we are, a group of wannabe heroes againt the least of the devilkind. If we fail against them, we'd better give up on our plans of grandeur...Seems like yesterday when they forced me to conjure my first lemure...I still recall the loathing and disgust I felt looking at it...
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"Lesser devils?!" Avrora nearly gags as the stench reaches her nose. "Oh good, I was worried there for a moment...Everyone stay close. Don't get surrounded." She takes a step back, rejoining Darian and Isabel beside the pool. She slaps her morningstar roughly against her shield and, unexpectedly, sparks rain down about her feet as both flash brightly in the dim light. "You! Smelly! Over here!"
"Are you sure those aren't crap golems? They look like crap golems to me," Darian says as he tightens his grip on his sword and shield.
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In addition, you also know they are resistant to acid and cold damage to some degree.
Encounter: "The Gratuitously Dirty, Devilishly Obligatory Bathhouse Scene"
Round 1
Conditions: Mucky water, rubble (difficult terrain)
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The masses of filth-covered flesh slop through the waist deep muck which hampers their movement slightly.
"Ack!" Rexus cries out as the the figures rise up from the murky fluid.
He mutters some arcane words and makes a gestures before a glob acid appears and launches toward one of the creatures. It simply strikes the thing and then drips off to fall into the mirk. For a brief moment, it just sizzles on the surface of the dirty cistern water before being absorbed.
"Uh...dammit," Rexus mutters.
Darian spins his blade in a small flourish, and then strikes up a battle-ready stance. Then his blade begins to glow with a white energy, soon followed by everyone else's weapons.
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Phineas falls back, reeling as he presses his back against the stone wall. He quickly begins to chant, casting a spell of sleep. Please, please have enough of a mind to succumb to this...
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Isabel concentrates intensely for a few seconds, focusing on the disorientating effect she had once experienced when one of the older girls sneaked a large quantity of hallucinatory incense into the dormitories.
She maintains just enough presence of mind to hold her magic back for a few seconds. "Avrora, close your eyes... now!"
”What’s an aligned weapon?” asks Galen desperately to Varian, before drawing his dagger out of his wrist sheath and stepping in front of Phineas in a pitiful attempt to defend him while he chants his spell.
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"An aligned weapon is...oh, nevermind, we don't have them anyway", Varian anwers before closing his eyes in concentration.
The Chelaxian man musters his resolve, steps forward and starts tuning a whispered prayer to Milani, using the same words the diabolists taught him long ago, but adding a few twists to them.
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Encounter: "The Gratuitously Dirty, Devilishly Obligatory Bathhouse Scene"
Round 2
Conditions: Mucky water, rubble (difficult terrain)
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Avrora having moved back and cast a spell to assist in the fight, readies her morningstar to strike the first foe in range. This is turns out to be Lemure 2. With a wordless cry, Avrora swings her weapon with force after delaying until the monster was in reach.
The heavy spiked head of the morningstar pushes into the devil's fleshy body causing muck to spin off in all directions. While the blow doesn't appear to have done much damage, the creature pauses in shock as a spiked impression now seems to formed where Avrora's strike landed. With a burbling roar, Lemure 2 attempts to return the favor as bony protrusions from what might a hand on an otherwise shapeless limb scratches at the warpriest.
Fortunately, the blow is easily deflected with Avrora's shield.
The other devil rushes into Isabel's waiting spell. Isabel quite suddenly sends a swirl of eye-rending color spinning into the intervening space narrowly missing the warpriest close to her. Lemure 1 moves forward without pause. Now that it's closer, Isabel isn't even certain the thing has eyes! However, what she was trying to do doesn't go unnoticed, and it ignores the obvious target of Avrora and proceeds to rush forward towards Isabel. Avrora sensing an opportunity, takes action.
The lemure's globby flesh is unaffected, and it rebounds the morningstar as if Avrora simply hit it with a slapstick.
Rexus moves up behind Isabel and says hoarsely, "I believe you will need some help for this one."
She feels his reassuring hand on her shoulder, and feels much less...worried.
Touch of Destiny (Sp): At 1st level, you can touch a creature as a standard action, giving it an insight bonus on attack rolls, skill checks, ability checks, and saving throws equal to 1/2 your sorcerer level (minimum 1) for 1 round. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Charisma modifier.
Quite suddenly, Phineas says some harsh arcane words and thrusts out his hands towards the lemures...but nothing happens beyond both of them looking a bit more fleshy and less dripping with muck than they did a moment before.
New Order:
16: Avrora, Lemure 2
15: Isabel, Lemure 1, Rexus
13: Varian
12: Darian
07: Phineas
05: Galen
Darian steps up and tries to cut into the one nearest him. Seeing Isabel under attack draws some of his attention away, however, and the attack is not as focused as it could be...
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A sinking feeling of fear creeps into Phineas' gut as his magic washes over the creatures with no apparent effect. Oh no. Oh no no no. Come on Darian, Avrora, please, please be able to handle them.
Phineas edges nervously towards the exit, but keeps the fight in sight.
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Delaying