Growling, the ghost lashes out, hoping to kill the troublesome goblin if he can't possess her.
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Itzal moved himself into a position to attempt to possess Mum's shadow, should she make it away from Tsao. She was not getting away.
General Tsao's icy claw cuts the air directly above the head of one of Mum's images (She summoned a mirror image via domain ability last round) but it swishes free through the air without connecting. The vapor in the air freezes as the claw passes through it, droplets of sleet flying into the eye of the goblin, letting him know -- grimly, that it might have been the real goblin and not the illusion that he might have hit were he a bit faster.
Mum immediately broke from her room and flew through Gorfeen's chambers and to the doorway into the outer hall -- almost running smack into Bunkavore, aka Itzal... whom she knows is the delegated sentry. Mum does not "Holler" but gesticulates emphatically that there is a threat in her chamber, and that Mustadook must raise the alarm, and summon Gorfeen.
Mum barely slows down to do this, and is obviously heading to the main area of the forge to alert her brother. the second part of her double-move will take her 30 feet into the hallway, where she will likely be seen by Gorfeen and perhaps one other uncontrolled goblin... What Itzal chose to do would likely hinge how smoothly they would wrest control away from the goblins...
Damn, this isn't going as smoothly as planned... Tsao thinks to himself, as he chases after Mum. Having exited his host already, his options were limited, and he knew his soul on this plane was weak and vulnerable. Desperate, he lashes out against Mum again!
Itzal made a quick decision. He left his hosts shadow to move into the shadow of his new target, Mum. If this failed, oh well. He'd find a new host. Hide in the darkness. Let Abrasax deal with the consequences.
Unit 254 is too busy chatting up Gorfeen.
"It's time, Gorfeen. Mum has been keeping you from realizing your full potential. You could make this the greatest tribe this world has ever seen, but Mum's holding you back. She's scared, Gorfeen. Scared of losing her power. That's why things are going badly. It's Mum's fault, Gorfeen. She's hurting the tribe. They need you - and only you."
General Tsao misses again as Mum hurriedly flies down the corridor -- Itzal, preparing to leave the body of his host takes for granted the initial difficulty in extricating from his host, and his attack of opportunity is lost as Mum streaks by.
Unit 254 plants the seeds of evil in Gorfeen's ears, and while his deceit is far-fetched, evil finds fertile ground in the head of a goblin.
Gorfeen's sense motive : 8 + 10 (lie is unlikely) + 6 sense motive = 24.
Unit 254 can tell the lie has bore fruit... but barely. In Gorfeen's eyes a kind of madness twinkles. His toothy maw stretches in an even more twisted rictus then is often typical of a goblin, and as he sees Mum streaming into the forge-room, waving her arms wildly -- he picks up his longsword from the side of his throne of junk.
Gorfeen's swing: 12 + 6 = 18
Damage: 5 + 2 = 7
Shhhhhliiiick!!
Mum runs completely up onto Gorfeen's sword -- her teeth vanishing as her lips purse in utter disbelief looking into the maddened eyes of her brother and murderer, and seeing behind them, perhaps the very last thing, the eyes of Unit 254. They were all around them, she knew too late. They were everywhere. Her last thought was assuming, rightly, that even Bunkavore was there to kill her. Her last breath left her body freely -- she had given up, her toes curled, and she fell evermore onto the hilt of Gorfeen's blade.
Gorfeen Snarled.
"Gorfeen not care if I wrong or right. If prophesy is lies or true. Lammashtu is Chaos. My sword is chaos. If Gorfeen and his warband surrounded, beset by great evil -- let it use us. If prophesy true and warband destined for greatness, this will come. Maybe both is true. Nothing come from just kicking, sister..."
Gorfeen, his body rigid in purpose but supremely exhausted it seemed, in spirit -- began to drag his sister's corpse towards to forge-fire -- throwing it in, and watching her burn into cinders the goblins began to gather from the fracas by the entrance, in shock and disbelief so intense even the rat-dogs seemed cowed, frightened. He addressed his goblins, while pulling himself back atop the throne of junk, his sword -- bloodied with the ichor of Mum, resting across his lap.
Unit 254 could sense the confusion, the frustration, the regret, but over all of that by a mile an overpowering stubbornness that gave him confidence in his lies whole hold as fast as any barred door.
He addressed his cohorts grimly, his face awash in firelight and madness:
"We be goblins -- and we be doomed. For the prophesy."
It would seem the warband marched for different masters now... Gorfeen, his leadership, and perhaps his very mind shattered, had fallen to the will of the deceivers...
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"Glorious." Tsao's voice issues in the eldritch Zalgan speech. A satisfaction washed over him as he saw the control of the goblins shift to his allies.
My allies, the disconcerting thought came to him. Not me. Them. I helped to broker our passage to this world...brought them here...have I doomed the world I hope to conquer by doing so?
Doubt over his failure to kill Mum himself gnawed at him like a sore in his lip. Narrowing his eyes, he keeps to the shadows and stays alert for new opportunities. Tomorrow is another day, after all, he thought to himself, with an evil grin.
...Only but a few minutes of certainty in glory and conquest hover when something else seizes the consciousness of the Hijackers -- a dull pain perhaps, like a toothache that generalizes to the whole of one's head.
...THE CATHEXIS HAS BEEN MOVED...
if only slightly. The feeling passes quickly -- but each of you know what sufficient harm to the cathexis would mean for your ties to this world. If that was the feeling that comes from the cathexis suddenly moving, NONE of you should likely be curious to find out what horrific stimuli awaits should the Cathexis actually come to harm...
Mustadook stumbles a step when the feeling hits him, and it takes a second to regain himself. If that's what happens when it shifts... perhaps we won't move it afterall.
He spins on his heel and walks into the forge room to see Gorfeen sitting with a bloody blade across his knees. He listens respectfully to his leader's speech before stepping forward.
Mighty leader, the Mustadook Abrasax croons simply say the word, and we march for the prophesee. Then all will prove right.
He wonders what brought Gorfeen around, but he is not about to question it. One should not question luck.
Unit 254 winces as the feeling hits him, then whispers quietly to Gorfeen. "A wise decision, friend. With Mum gone, you can lead this tribe to the greatness it deserves. Now it's time to prove yourself to your subjects. Seek out the prophesy. Then all will know you are Lamashtuu's Chosen."
[dice=perception: I have picked up Orc by putting a point in Linguistics, what do I see?]1d20+7
The Murals of Keshul-varr
THE FRESCOS – the first ones are artfully carved, the last ones are chiseled out, and replaced by far more crude, cave-painting style depictions, still written in orc, but in smeared pigments rather than chiseled prose.
The story tells of ancient orc civilization in this area, of nomad orcs ascending from below – who made their fortune pursuing “herds of dwarves” as they travelled ever upward in their “Search for Sky” – the dwarves often mined their way up, the orcs collapsing tunnels and raiding when their prey were occupied or fatigued – these days were good to them. Dwarfs burst fourth in several places in Golarion, but not here. Here the dwarves were hunted and harried until they gave up the quest. Finding a great, defensible canyon of great breadth and vaulting height, what remained of this dwarf culture dug in and founded a city, which in the fresco is quite near to the surface (–unbeknownst to them) with orcs on all sides. A siege went on for what the frescos convey as many generations, with the orcs finally, by attrition, wearing the dwarves down to nothing. The orcs took the dwarven city (and this outlying forge), and coalesced from raiding bands of various tribes to a handful of powerful clans -- eventually renaming the city "Keshul-Varr" (meaning "Sky-denied.") One such clan was the Tchorock, or “Iron Arms” -- their clan pursued the unpopular tack of trying to develop orc culture by not just picking the bones but unlocking the secrets of dwarf technology, some of which was done here. This was tolerated, until another upheaval occurred at the discovery of the surface, even later in their history. The Iron-Arms wanted to explore the surface, surely it was worth having if the dwarves had sought it so hard it became their undoing? The tribes conferred, and said the Iron-arms could go to the surface, but no-one else.
It is at this point the records get hazy -- defaced, revised, and ultimately ruined by the end of the murals. With your considerable perception you can tell something akin to the Tchorock returning from the surface generations later, with many half-orcs of higher sophistication and more fair appearance among them. They were not well received. The clans that remained in Keshul-varr saw the Half-orcs as a perversion, and accused the Tchorock of finding a way to mate and interbreed with the dwarves. The rest of the paintings seem to pertain to hunting the Tchorock (who were fewer) into extinction, ultimately killing them all in a pitched battle at this forge and the riverways you traveled to get here (perhaps giving an explanation for all the skeletons laying about until recently.) The last paintings pertain to some kind of decrees to the effect of the Tchorock making their blood impure, and that only pureblood orcs would be allowed to breed. There seems to be a point of pride with these proclamations, but the pictures in the murals seem to suggest that the orcs of Keshul-varr sank into inbreeding and more primitive savagery as an extension of this.
As time wore on, different races of humanoids encroached or made unsteady peace in Keshul-varr. As of the abandonment of maintaining the record, (which reading between the lines might have coincided with razing the forge for a second time since the defeat of the Tchorock out of need to consolidate orc numbers in the city proper) - The "Oot-Uut" clan (meaning "Tusk-tooths") proclaim themselves the only clan, and boast "the purest bloodlines" -- from their artwork, it would seem they are very large, and not particularly talented compared to their predecessors.
Gorfeen raises a rusty, mailed hand to his ear and temple, as if simultaneously straining to hear something and fend off a splitting headache...
"Ancestors tell me, just like Mustadook -- we seek prophesy NOW. Make dogs ready. Break camp, only death for us here."
He takes a moment to gaze at the fire, looking to where Mum is little more than a heap of carbon and ash.
"Mustadook -- you now 'Herald of Lammashtu' - take everyone, all dogs, and prepare my coming. Seek prophesy, I will follow when shortly. Gorge on frog-eggs, then march!"
....
Sitting back on his throne, Gorfeen half whispers to his "Familiar" and half to himself, absentmindedly jabbing at the fire, at his sister -- with a long fire-poker.
"Ancestors all dead. Listen to ancestors and wind up dead too, Methinks. No matter. I kill and kill. Winning so far. Yes. Gorfeen still winning."
(poke-poke)...
The Prophet obeys. .
Mustadook leaves the presence of his chief and gives the necessary orders, leaving only those goblins who might traditionally serve as Gorfeen's bodyguard and unuseable refuse behind. They set out as soon as camp is broken.
Like a patient shade, Tsao will float high above the goblins below, keeping an eye out for new developments.
He peers about him carefully:
The Abrasax is a little busy with the caravan (small though it may be) and pays only a moderate amount of attention to his surroundings.
All told, there is not much of value the goblins care to pack -- Mum's quarters are left alone, no goblins dare pass through Gorfeen's quarters to prepare any of her things for transport, and no goblin dares broach the subject to the brooding boss. Due to attrition there is little logistics required for a warband at half strength. Setting out, the goblins and their rat-dogs make excellent time down the silty shores of the underground river. General Tsao notices streams of water pouring intermittently through cracks in the cavern ceiling -- pouring in numerous places into the river below. Perhaps it is raining on the surface and conducting this water downward in this manner -- all Tsao knows is the vertical streams of water are disrupting his visibility...
Likewise, Abrasax is equally if not more occluded by the whirling disarray of goblins on the move. Relatively quiet for what he might have originally expected, the goblins are actually quite focused on the moved, though far from what he would call disciplined.
Tsao sees the trouble first, shortly after by Abrasax -- The mystery of where all those orcish skeletons had gotten to is revealed when a consolidated formation begins to rise and march from a deep but relatively still part of the riverside. Tsao counts three ranks of five already making for the shore -- to the right and a bit ahead of the goblin column. While unsure, it is possible there are additional ranks still submerged but coming closer to shore out of sight.
Abrasax sees the skeleton formation moments later, when the goblin dogs begin to howl and screech wildly.
Decisions would have to be made, and quickly. Little was known of the disposition of their foes -- it was quite possible the goblins were outnumbered, and the losses that might be expected here coupled with the urgency to reach the cathexis might be ill afforded with combat!
"Trouble ahead, my monstrous friends. Skeletons spooking the dogs," Tsao immediately sibilants in Zalgan.
Before Camp packed up:
Itzal reeled when the Cathexis moved. That was not a good feeling. Shaking it off, knowing Abarax must be planning something about it, he took another look at that note, trying to decifer it.
After they started moving out:
Itzal decided to keep watch when the group moved out. With the others busy with their own things and missions. Someone needed to keep an eye out. He didn't wish to be caught of guard.
Gorfeen waited, or more some might say sulked on his throne until the din of his followers faded in the distance. When all was finally quiet, he slid from his seat and listlessly walked to his quarters, dragging him longsword noisily on the ground behind him.
With the other goblins gone, it became obvious just how desolate and dark this place had become. The clatter of his blade cast it's sound far about, echoing where formerly the activity of dogs and goblins would have absorbed it.
Upon reaching his quarters, Gorfeen quickly packed his incidentals and loaded them onto his, the largest of the dogs. The last of which being a vase of oil and a pouch of what Unit 254 thought might be a substantial amount of gems, though the value of them was uncertain. In Mum's chambers, without much ceremony at all he collects a small number of pouches and vials and places them in a black wooden box. and before finally leaving the area goes to a table where Mum was apparently going through a great deal of orcish papers -- and quickly making a shambles of it finds a wand and pockets it.
Gorfeen absentmindedly prepares himself for travel -- but Unit 254 wonders if it did not just hear some kind of noise in the distance...
(Make a perception check and if you have an counsel for Gorfeen you may go ahead with it -- nature, even in the underground, abhors a vacuum... and the refuse, food, and waste left behind after the egg-feast was considerable.)
The Abrasax notices the skeletal warriors just after the General's signals the danger. The Abrasax is a ruler, not a warrior, and it is wise enough to admit this.
General. It signals back, the dancing light of the Prophesy Fire Gem making out a kind of Zalgan code of light and shadow, You are a Warrior, not I. Lead now. Tell me what must be done, and I will give the word. Do we fight, or evade?
Unit 254 whispers reassurance to Gorfeen. "Well done, great chief. You are a true leader - not afraid to make the tough decisions. And your dedication has been rewarded. The ancestral spirits have brought new information to light. If you follow my directions, I will lead you to some ancient trinkets and the body of the traitor who tried to hide them from you."
If Gorfeen is willing, Unit 254 will then give him directions to Kuurst's body (and the gear he'd found earlier).
Unit 254's offer intrigues Gorfeen, so he quietly assents to be shown the way... but the body is not there.
...Instead, there is a pool of blood beside the scrap-bin, as if Kuurst was hoist into the air and bled from above. Trickles of blood are splashed against the stone at least 60 feet up the wall, and in fact drip still from above, in thick, coagulated droplets.
Straining to detect more, Unit 254 hears a cacophony of noisome sucking far above, on the gantries where the crucible is held above the forge. It would be easy enough to go and investigate, but discretion may be the better part of valor...
"Is this some sort of test? are you trying to frighten or trick Gorfeen? Gorfeen does not interpret signs well, worm-herald... be direct."
"They're orcish skeletons, fifteen of them. Perhaps more. They'd make mincemeat out of your hosts, or at least cause significant damage to a significant number of them. Do not allow the goblin tribe to engage them. A safer bet would be to guide them up to the lair of the monster that is eating Kuurst....I can attempt to possess it and provide more "signs of divine providence" to Gorfeen."
So saying, Tsao wastes no time in flying up to the gantries, casting about himself hungrily while trying to remain as quiet as possible. I must have a body again...
Retcon: Tsao is unaware of the monster, so he advises the bodysnatchers to merely instruct their goblin slaves to wait and let the skeletons pass.
Listening and accumulating sense information from a variety of factors -- you come to a confident conclusion that Kuurst's body is being consumed by a Giant blood-sucking flyer roughly 60 to 80 feet above your head. The recent departure of the goblins has lead to this creature moving into the area to scavenge -- and it is so far highly pleased with it's findings thus far.
While your perception gives you some details to work with, from a knowledge perspective you are less fortunate in identifying it.
It's bulbous body is both insectoid and avaian in nature, though you cannot at this range make out all of the particulars. Your dreams in the Cathexis tell you that this thing is called a "Stirge" -- but if this assertion is correct, this specimen is far larger than normal. It's long proboscis is draining Kuurst to a slight and pale husk, even as it's own underbelly pulses, shakes, and pendulously dangles beneath it as it fills with the goblins bodily fluids.
It is presently quite preoccupied in it's task, and certainly has not noticed you operating below.
Unit 254 quietly whispers to Gorfeen. "Look up, do you see it? It was sent to punish the traitor who stole from you. That will be the fate of all who work against the betterment of our tribe. Let me show you where the stolen goods are hidden."
Gorfeen chuffed.
"I see another dead goblin, spirit. I am hoping once ancestors are done showing me the dead of my own tribe we get to business of dead things that are not goblins. This thing can have all left behind."
Gorfeens eyes narrowed to slits. Was he suspicious? (sense motive?)
Gorfeen packed his dog for travel and consented to be lead to where the remaining items were left. He packed them too.
"Nothing more here. I hurry after the tribe."
Gorfeen then set out after the rest of the goblins, though still giving an ear to the counsel of his "familiar"...
Before Camp packed up:
Itzal reeled when the Cathexis moved. That was not a good feeling. Shaking it off, knowing Abarax must be planning something about it, he took another look at that note, trying to decifer it.
After they started moving out:
Itzal decided to keep watch when the group moved out. With the others busy with their own things and missions. Someone needed to keep an eye out. He didn't wish to be caught of guard.
[dice=Perception keeping Watch]1d20+9
The note reads, in a hand too steady for the common orc:
"Enemy Resistance by the Oot-Uut ferals is too strong. Heavy losses, attacks must be halted. units left behind after the battle of our forge's river are to regroup and attempt to relieve the forge which will doubtless soon come under attack. Be prepared to fight fire as well as orc, the ferals will be bringing both. We can only seek solace that their Chiropteran Behemoth should be too confined in the barracks for it to be of use. Let us hope that is not the only break to fall our way. Rally all remnants and clandestine forces to the forge as soon as you can regroup. The light of the Ironarms must reach Veshul-varr -- we did not fight our way to the surface to die like this. Not like this.
-Yurgot Flat-teeth, Herald of the Half-orcan auxiliary of the most glorious Iron arms."
Very strange words for an orc, indeed.
Now, taking into account Itzal's presence on the river...
Itzal detects the skeletons rising from the water before anyone else, but scarcely sooner than anything can be done to get the attention of the undisciplined goblins any faster. He does however see the disposition of the column as PROFOUNDLY hostile. This is an ambush. The skeletons intend to hit the side of the goblin column as it moves up the river, and wipe them out -- weapons are brandished -- the second of the three ranks bear spears to strike at reach. if something is not done quickly and a battle is joined, initial losses could potentially be staggering - especially if there are more skeletons yet to be seen.
Itzal can also hear that the hushed groans and grinding of teeth by the skeletons is in fact a single phrase, in necril. Mindless, but present: "Jaldon instructs us."
With Itzal's greater range of vision, he spies a single being on the far side of the river, similarly skeletal -- though seemingly draped with a slimy, spectral-green linen, and wholly non-orcish in nature: their bone structure and stylized armor is wholly different from an orc, more decorative. Perhaps elvish?
This being's eyes glow with a green fire and is wholly hateful. It holds some kind of scroll wrapped in ribbon and sealed in wax, in the same hand it points, as if directing the skeletons to advance. In his other hand he holds a gilded mace above his head, it too weeping droplets of greenish spoor. If ever a being might have been haunted, this mortal frame certainly is.
What Itzal would do with this information remained to be seen...
"It's a trap. Let them fight those skeletons if you wish to lose most of your minions." Itzal sent the telepathic message out to his associates, Abrasax and Tsao. He then proceeded to use the shadows to his advantage, moving to hide and sneak closer to the figure to get a better look, possibly over hear them. This figure intrigued him.
Abrasax hisses to his companion goblins, Propheseee! I sees dead ones marching. They turn us dead for sures! Hide! Avoid! This not Goblin-fight! Meet at altar cave!
With that, Mustadook ducks onto the far side of the road and attempts to become unseen, then make his way to the Altar room rendevous.
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"It's a trap. Let them fight those skeletons if you wish to lose most of your minions." Itzal sent the telepathic message out to his associates, Abrasax and Tsao. He then proceeded to use the shadows to his advantage, moving to hide and sneak closer to the figure to get a better look, possibly over hear them. This figure intrigued him.
[dice=Stealth to Hide then Sneak]1d20+13+4
[dice=Perception to check out the Figure and Listen]1d20+9
Itzal's stealth is absolute. Breaking from the group using the chaos of the formation as misdirection, he dives without making a splash in the shallows and quickly threads along the rim of the shallow depression the skeletons were hiding in. There was definitely more bones and debris beneath the water, but nothing about them could be certain. One of the skeletons in the back rank cranes his head, but it all is certain he will not be seen, even by his quarry.
Unfortunately, the focus required by his art of stealth, the splash of skeletons and the din of goblins is a greater din than he can deduct. If the green skeleton is saying anything, the battle will be joined before Itzal will be close enough to hear it...
Even if he couldn't hear, it was worth checking out, he would move as close as he could, aiming on sneaking around behind it. This, green skeleton had caught his attention and make him cautious but curious.
The goblins first consider panicking, but quickly think the better of it -- after all, the skeletons were still a moment away, not upon them. A handful of goblins (all that were not under alien control, that is) quickly loosed their dogs in a feint, fooling both the four dogs in question, and the skeleton regiment -- that a pitched battle was imminent...
...One skeleton was brought clattering down into the water before the four dogs were dashed against the formation and cut to pieces. The rest of the goblins however, broke into small groups without even leaving sight of one another, broke from combat and outpaced the skeletons.
The skeletons themselves, after taking the time to spear the dogs repeatedly to establish very clearly they were dead, did not run but rather marched cohesively in the directions the goblins fled...
Even if he couldn't hear, it was worth checking out, he would move as close as he could, aiming on sneaking around behind it. This, green skeleton had caught his attention and make him cautious but curious.
[dice=More Stealth if needed]1d20+13+4
Itzal had little difficulty remaining unseen by this green, and at closer range, seemingly silvery skeleton. As the goblins slipped away, he ordered an additional five more heavily armored skeletons out of the water, crooking his finger that held the scroll, and whirling it towards the corpses of the dogs. In necril, with a voice that sounded like a cold wind through a mouthful of sea-weed, he commanded them.
"Break everything on the corpses. That which may be in them could still be alive. We can take no chances so close to our goal. Once their vessel is broken none of this will be any of our concern, but until I hold it in my hands we can take no chances."
the skeleton re-affixed his mace to his belt and placed the scroll within his rib-cage, floating in the blob of ectoplasm that filled his torso -- where Itzal surmised a heart might once have been. It seemed to exhale a single breath where no inhalation preceded it... the resigned sigh of a tortured and haunted soul. It's burning eyes trained on the skeleton regiment as it plodded along.
"No matter, Jaldon. This will all be over soon. This ghastly unlife will come to an end. It could have been worse, the infernals could have found it first. Surely a century as a haunt is a pittance compared to an eternity in hell to fulfill a vow?"
With the dog-corpses thoroughly mutilated and disemboweled, he gestured for his armored skeletons to rally with him, and, barring intervention by Itzal or Tsao, they would head towards the Cistern themselves.
"Why did I promise to destroy that thing? Jaldon, you were a fool in life, and you've been doomed to play a fool even longer in death."
"
Gorfeen set out with Unit 254 and his dog at a rushed clip away from the barracks and along the river-way. As they left, it as easily noted, but unremarked -- that great numbers of shiny, bulbous cockroaches -- while ubiquitous in the environment, had really begun to come out in force with the decline in activity. As Gorfeen shut the door behind him as he entered the riverbed, Unit 254 could barely see the murals behind a layer of seething bugs... descending from the rafters to feast and scavenge with impunity.
The Cave fisher, aka "Preet NS 3.0" finished consuming the rest of the goblin Preet from the safety of it's lair, high in the rocks of the riverbed. It's primitive brain agonized over the only things it's simple clutch of ganglia could contemplate:
Should it sleep off it's full belly and only stir again to slake a hunger?
Should it hunt again while hunting was good? Build a larder?
Perhaps it should go out and seek a mate?
These simple thoughts turned in Preet NS 3.0's mind -- Indeed, the swarm was now a cave-fisher, and it knew it; Ultimately the swarm, and not the cave fisher, would be pulling the strings...
Tsao nods to himself as the goblins unleash the hounds. A tactical sacrifice. Now to see if we can save the rest of the tribe...though it may be that their usefulness has run its course...
He follows in the air above and behind them, trying to keep an eye on the encroaching skeletons. If the formation breaks and there are any stragglers, Tsao will move in and possess one. A bony body is better than no body at all.
If needed:
Tsao knows how useless he is unless he's got a body to command. He searches high and low for viable hosts.
"They march for the Red Cathexis! They mean to destroy it!" Itzal sent the message out to of his associates in his range. He did NOT want to go back yet. There was too much he wanted to do here. He would follow them, looking for an opportunity to foil their plans. Perhaps he could Manipulate the Scroll away from this Jaldon person. Or maybe drop something on him?
THE RETURN TO THE CISTERN:
The goblin column broke into several pieces, but the majority regrouped before reaching the cistern. With Abrasax arrives with 3 goblin regulars and 3 goblin dogs, along with Tsao and Itzal in tow (if they decide to break whatever they are doing and follow, otherwise Abrasax and these thralls alone arrive at the cistern until Itzal is done shadowing his quarry, and Tsao is done with his needful tasks.)
The sound of the river as it reaches the cistern is loud enough to dampen much of the sound in the area, and a sheet of water conducted from the ceiling of the cistern creates a natural curtain separating the river from the main cistern chamber. The goblins and dogs huddle almost in single file behind this curtain -- the shapes of several humanoids crouched around the cistern, and the red glow of what must be the Cathexis -- pulled from the water and held among them was readily perceptible. Chatter in undercommon, desperate and conspirational flicked between them, and it seemed their attention was directed the way the goblins were coming. In that moment, the humanoid with the Cathexis dived into the cistern -- and the rest of the humanoids backed away from the water chattering more quietly, as if aware of the possibility of the goblin arrival, if not certain of it.
The goblins looked to Mustadook with uncertainty for direction. Were they to charge into the face of an unknown foe to seize their prize before it slipped away? Were they instead to continue spying -- and what if their prey decided to attack them at this choke point? What if the skeletons should come up behind them? -- Itzal's proclamation was high on their minds, they did not expect they would elude the skeletons so easily -- The moment was very tense...
Tsao's instincts tell him to follow the Abrasax - but he saw the skeletons himself first-hand, and he knew that even if he kept up with the goblins, he wouldn't be of much use in their defense. His eyes narrow as his ghostly visage sweeps the caverns surrounding him with the hunger of a thousand years.
[dice=Stealth to follow]1d20+17
[dice=Perception to find a way to disrupt or stop Jaldon]1d20+9
To learn much more about the nature of the glowing skeleton would require a Knowledge (religion) check... but Itzal could tell that whatever that scroll was, it was of central importance to this "Jaldon" character, and he would not likely part with it easily, or unawares. For all he knew the scroll itself could be haunted, and there was no exclusive difference between the entities...
As far as remaining unseen, Itzal could be confident that while he was pushing the limits of his stealth -- he was likely well out of the range of detection the undead had at their disposal... at the moment. Even within 30 feet found himself skulking with impunity, and one might wonder how close he could get without even needing concern himself with detection.
Relating to a way to stop or disrupt Jaldon, he could see far ahead -- about half-way between the cistern and where the skeletons now were an area of the cave-ceiling where considerable cracks seemed to be conducting a substantial amount of water from the ground above was evident. Into the riverside below it formed a lesser stream that joined with the bulk of the river. Without knowledge of Engineering or to a lesser degree Dungeoneering it was a very uncertain prospect -- but Itzal surmised that if something could be contrived to damage that area of the cave-roof while the regiment or even Jaldon himself were under it, a desirable result MIGHT be achieved. Still, what could be used to cause such a disturbance? and how might one get up there to rig it?
At almost the same time, Gorfeen, his dog, and his persuasive counsel Unit 254 began to catch up with the obvious tracks of his goblin compatriots. Gorfeen stopped in both his tracks and the tracks he followed when he came upon the great disturbance in the silt-side that was manifest by the obvious large-scale movement of the skeleton regiment, which made an obvious and broad swath beside the river -- so grand as to almost mute the tracks of the goblins and dogs.
The tracks are fresh, and while gorfeen seems unafraid -- the number of adversaries gives him pause. after some brief combing of the silt, he finds a spot where a significant amount of blood is taking its time washing away and sinking into the saturated ground.
"Whatchoo make of this, worm of ancestors? This blood smells only of dogs, so goblins must still live... but what now? Gorfeen unafraid, and gorfeen can kill more skellie in a day than most goblin see in a lifetime -- but what now, whispery one? Unerring guidance goes far keeping gorfeen in confidence... Methinks Gorfeen lets you direct him - if you unerring, Gorfeen knows you true, and gorfeen not murder his sister for no reason. On other hand, maybe voice of ancestor makes mistake, and picks worm from his ear and eats him?"
Gorfeen's smile is an unsettling one.
"Not to worry, my friend. I will not lead you false. These skeletons are exactly what you need right now. The tribe is wavering in their conviction and follows you out of fear. You need to show them that you have their best interests at heart. Save them from this threat, and they'll follow you anywhere."
Must breed.... By water....