The dreamers descend on the remaining creature. They rip it free from Hearda, prying its teeth and claws form his clothes. Amber's starknife cuts into its rubbery skin, cleanly severing one of it hands, and sending the thing to the floor. IT screams in rage and rushes forward, teeth gnashing at Feliks, bloodlust and insanity clear in its cloudy eyes. The halfling steps back for a moment and then brings his mace crashign down on the creature's head, splattering its remains against the walls. The chemical-soaked flesh quickly bubbles and melts into slick trails and globs of putrid reeking slime. A foul stench rises from the mess, churning the stomachs of all save Feliks.
DC 12 Fort Save
Hearda: -2 to Dex and Cha as he's covered in a nasty rash for 24 hours.
Oldest One: nauseated for 1 round
Hearda: nauseated for 1 round
Amber: nauseated for 1 round
Once again the old man stumbled away retching - though this time there was nothing to bring up.
Hearda stumbles off to the side, retching helplessly. Once the spasms have subsided he turns to face the other dreamers, a look of reproach on his face. "I hope you are happy now." He then looks around the room for anything of interest.
The old man wipes his face with his handkerchief. "Overjoyed. Let's see if we were right not to use fire."
"Oh g-god...that's...eurgh...!" Amber gags, then retches as the smell hits her nose. After having given up her breakfast she wipes at her face before shakily rising to her feet again.
"Dead is b-better," she responds to Hearda, shaking her head. "Better us putting them down now than making one of those guards have to do it." With the immediate danger past, she begins trying to examine her surroundings a bit more thoroughly.
** spoiler omitted **
"That's the gods' truth," Feliks said. He too looked about.
The dreamers search the ruined, desperate to find some clue as to what has been going on. They find nothing but corpses and two relatively clean doctor's coats.
Hearda shakes his head in disgust at the lack of fruitfulness to the search.
This was a complete waste of time...and risky too. I hope the others have discovered we need to pick our battles wisely, else we will be trapped here...and have all the time to then fight them.
Scratching at his face where the rash from the vile creatures is still itching, he points out the way they came in, and the trail of ichor which led them here. "Let's backtrack here. I saw a room further in we can check out."
"The sooner we can leave this smell the better" the old man said, and made for the door.
Hearda pushes open the door with a slight shove, the others close behind him. What he reveals is a ruined lounge. The ceiling has collapsed, crushing a table and couch. A mangled corpse peaks out from beneath the rubble.
Hearda places a finger to his lips motioning inside the room. Unwilling to alert any hidden threats he slowly steps inside as quietly as he dared, ears straining for any sounds...
The stench of death hangs heavy in the ruined lounge. But no threats lurk within the shadows
Hearda nods silently and motions the others inside. "It is safe." He states, as he looks over the corpse.
"Nothing" announces the old man, his voice breaking the silence. "No hideous nightmare creature. No mysterious whispering voice. Positively homely compared to what we've seen recently."
To Hearda's trained eye, the appears to have died because of the collapsed ceiling.
Amber warily searches through the rubble, avoiding the ruined mass from the corpse each time. But, though she takes as much care as her frantic and terrified mind allows, she cannot find any danger lurking in the shadows.
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Hearda watches the young woman search through the rubble quietly, wary of being caught off-guard. Once she has finished her task, he nods in acknowledgement. "We need to keep moving."
Stepping out of the room he peers to the north, noting the nameplate on the northern door reading Administrator Eliege Losandro.
Silently gliding up to it, he presses an ear to the wood listening intently...
Hearda hears naught but silence beyond the oaken door.
Hearda holds his hand up and motions the other dreamers to get into position. Once they indicated they are ready he then quietly pulls the door open.
Hearda opens the door with a cautious nudge of his foot, revealing the tastefully-decorated and spacious office of Administrator Eliege Losandro. A staircase in the back winds up to a second floor balcony dominated by floor-to ceiling bookshelves. Thick upholstered armchairs and couches sit along the opposite wall sanguinely posed beneath large floor-to ceiling glass windows of leaded glass. Beyond, thick clouds of yellow fog boil and splash against the glass, like waves upon the shore.
All of this he notices in but a moment's glance, for what consumes his attention most, is the site in the precise center of the room. A pool of blood, fresh and wet... far more than a single body could every produce glistens on the floor reflecting the weird multitude lights dancing though an otherworldly fog roiling just inches off its surface.
Hearda stands paralyzed by the terrifying sight before him. He glances behind him at the other dreamers before peering cautiously inside...
"What do you see?" whispers the old man from behind them.
"Blood," Hearda breathes softly as he gazes further into the room, "and something else...something WRONG..." He proceeds no further, instead studying the strange fog surrounding the blood searching every scrap of knowledge he has gleaned so far...
Amber cannot sense anything within the fog, although she's sure there's something there. Perhaps the source of the blood rests in the fog? Beside her, Hearda studies the fog. Despite his years of study, he cannot remember anything that could be the source of this unnatural fog. He is sure that it's not natural.
The old man peeks around the corner and ducks back.
Hearda motions to the staircase leading upwards to the shelves loaded with their tantalizing tomes. "Another key lies up there I am sure. We need to risk this!"
Feliks tried not to look at the blood or the fog.
"Could we take the books to read elsewhere? Something could come out of...that. Either of...those." He shivered.
Hearda nods in agreement as he again looks up to the tantalizing books just out of reach. Edging his way into the room, he picks up a small stone and gently tosses it just outside the pool of blood...hoping nothing reacts to the impact.
The old man stows his stick by the door. Acid in one hand, fire in the other, he stands ready to cover his companions.
The multihued-mists swirl and billow as the rock soars through their coils. A wet splash follows as the rock, lost in the fog, lands in the pool of blood. Moments later, the rock rolls across the blood and floor, leaving a read streak as it comes to rest beside Hearda's boot.
Hearda uses a minor cantrip to bring the rock, glistening with what he judged to be blood, hovering before his eyes. "This reeks of blood...of from what I cannot say..." He mutters as he looks over the blood-smeared rock...his mind flashing back to the dreamer's arrival...
There were others...but they are gone now...back into the Dream.
Gritting his teeth he focuses on the task at hand, studying the blood closely...
Hearda's primal side detects the faint scent of man in the blood. This was once a human. Although he still does not know of any undead that can act this way.
"Human...the good doctor's most likely. I have never seen the like before" Hearda responds to his fellow Dreamer. "No way to bypass it here,, he turns to face the old man, "Ready your flame, old man. I am going to see if I can draw it to me." He then slides into the office, hugging the wall and ready to react to the cloud here.
"Fortune." the old man wishes Hearda, quietly.
Better him than me. Feliks loaded his crossbow and waited for the inevitable horror.
Cautiously, Hearda steps into the room. His mind reeling from the ghastly fog filling the center of the office. But, the fog sits in the air, eddies and swirls stirring in currents of air only it can feel.
Hearda glances about him, looking up around the ceiling of the room.
There MUST be a way to bypass the fog...if I could climb the wall here... He stares at the stairwell at the far end of the room briefly before glancing around for any means of ascending to the next level.
Hearda peers at the wall. He thinks, that with a judicious amount of finesse and strength, he could scale up one of the large curtains framing the windows and use it to swing across the windows to the other curtain, like a monkey. He could repeat this to get to the other side. But, the curtains are not ropes, his weight could rip them. Swinging from them could definitely tear them free. Then, he'd be in danger of breaking through the windows to the garden outside (and the dangers that lurked wihtin), or fall into the swirling fog at the center of the room.. and whatever weighted there.
Amber's heightened senses detect a.. presence... within the swirling mists above the blood. It watches them... waiting.