In the Light of Black Stars (Strange Aeons)

Game Master Thackery Baxter J Thorington

As soon as he becomes aware of the danger above, Kalas dashes toward the corpses and bounds up them. They did not look like much when it comes to a fight. They'll need my blade up there.

Like I mentioned earlier, if there really is a pile of bodies, unless the hole in the ceiling is larger than the pile a rope would not prevent us from having to climb the bodies. I am assuming that is what our GM went with?

you can use the rope or not. I'm not going to nit-pick on the tying the rope off. Assume Hearda hooked it on as he came out of the chute and use it to climb up if you want. I'd rather get you guys to the next room than play dice roulette to see who can't make a DC 10 climb check. I have suffered this many many times before as a player

Round 1

Feliks fixes his gaze on the tentacled ...rat...thing... as he loads his crossbow, trains it at the nearest rat, and fired. The tentacled rat turns and stares Feliks in the eyes. He senses a malign intelligence behind that impossible creature. Those pale-glowing eyes see much, including Feliks. That diabolic intent lurking within that sallow gaze shakes the halfling's soul. His bolt flies wide and pierces only a pair of shorts.

At the sound of distress, Dvarin follows the others up the chute, trying to ignore the pile of bodies that he is crawling over in the process. He climbs the hill of corpses, unaffected by the rotting flesh beneath him. They are but corpses, and he is brother to death. But then, he grabs for the rope Hearda suspended from the chute and he gasps. He pulls and hauls himself up to stare into the eyes of a child. This is not orderly, no doctor or nurse. No. An innocent child. Her face is unharmed, her eyes open and startlingly blue, almost alive beneath her clean bobbed hair. It's completely detached and set upon the pile with almost loving care. The impossibility of the act, and the innocence and peace of her expression rock the wizard to is core. With a great effort, he gathers himself and pulls on the rope, alighting in the room above, the Infernal words still spilling from his shaking lips.

Upon reaching the top of the tunnel, he stops behind the other two, trying to keep his distance, while he begins to chant in a strange, guttural tongue. It is a prose that the Oldest One recognizes as the voices of the damned. The words crackle and snap like the fires of burning brimstone eating away at the forms of tortured souls. The torment him, shaking his sensibilities

In the room, beside Feliks, Hearda observes an unnatural physiology, an abomination of the animal form. "Ahhh....Uhhhh....Yes, predators...RATS!" The last word rings out in a near panic.

Even as his human side is paralyzed with terror, his orcish half glares back at the monsters and grunts in the eldritch tongue words that pass easily from his lips...A piece of rubble lying to one side of the room quivers briefly before suddenly flies out at the tentacled monstrosity. The stone flies wide, clattering off the side of the bath, leaving the creature unharmed.

At the bottom of the chute, his mind going through his possible options for what appears to be an unavoidable fight in his very near future, Nathaniel finds that he does have some magic in hand that could prove useful. The thinking also helps to keep the sight of the pile of bodies from distracting him too much, though it does nothing when his hands finally touch it in his attempt to climb it and join the others that have already gone ahead. His focus serves him well as he climbs over the bodies. The squishing flesh, and odd bursts of fluids hardly phase him at all as he grabs the rope and makes his ascent.
climbing is going to be a move action, so you get a standard as well

I'll stop here and wait for Nathaniel's standard action

Amber and Kalas are at 3 sanity damage (when they climb the bodies). Their thresholds are 3. 1 more point of sanity damage and they will acquire a lesser madness (which they can get rid of with time, magic, or therapy). Good news is you won't have sanity checks anymore for encountering dead bodies or doppelgangers. Yay.

As cries of alarm ring out from above and the others begin scrambling up the mound of bodies Amber hesitates, not sure that she can bring herself to even touch the corpses.

But not climbing meant staying here...alone...

With a low moan she begins climbing after Kalas and the others, sweat dripping from her nose and teeth clenched to keep from retching. Once at the top she shakily draws her bow.

That should be two move actions; can't access the map from mobile at the moment.

'Infernalism!' the thought ran through the old man's mind as arcane words battled with the tongue of hell. 'Am I still dreaming?' he wondered. Climbing up a mountain of the dead... this scene was reminiscent of some insane nightmare.

Unfortunately I do not have time for a proper post, but I do not want to keep the game from going forward. So, Standard Action to cast shield and Swift Action to draw the sword cane. I will probably describe them more properly in my next post, even if it will be a bit retroactively.

no problem and appreciate it!

'What horrors do they face up there?' wondered the old man. He held his breath - as if somehow the act of breathing would make it more real - hoisted his stick and clambered up the mountain of the dead. His eyes remained fixed on the entryway, desperately trying to deny the reality of his situation.

A translucent lens of force hangs in the air between Nathaniel and the vermin. With swordcane in hand, he turns to face the tentacled monstrosity.

The tentacled creature squeals and darts backwards away from the bared steel.

Kalas and the Oldest ONe, next

old one was climbing up, trying not to look at what he was climbing on.

ahh yes... just kalas then!

Gonna assume Kalas climbs up the chute, too
Kalas and the Oldest One clamber up the pile of bodies. The casual display of death and lack of regard for human life is almost too much for the warrior to bear. His world quakes as he climbs, but he finds solace in his faith and pulls himself up the rope to join the other dreamers above.

The Oldest One finds it hard going. The chute was not made to be explored, and his old frame protests as he contorts himself through the tube. But, with Kalas' help, he pulls free of the door and finds himself in a room with his fellows surrounded by five rat-like creatures.

From behind, Amber spills out of the chute, bow drawn and ready.

Round 2, Feliks, Dvarin, Hearda, Nathaniel UP

Damn it all, last thing I need... Feliks thought. Giant rats of all things... He stepped back and hurriedly reloaded his crossbow before firing again.

Stop playing around here with your fancy magic...this is life and death!!

Hearda feels the savage part of his mind demand more brutal steps be taken here. Grasping the handle of his mace tightly he swings it in a wide arc, intending to splatter the rat's skull upon the floor.

Dvarin finishes his incantation; he opens his eyes, mouthing one final word, and the darkness before him begins to coalesce; the shadows sprout wings and claws and beak, all tearing down at the rat screeching towards him.

One of the beasts occupied, Dvarin turns towards the other; locking eyes with the creature, he chants again, though not nearly as many words as he intoned the last time, and in a different language than the one he spoke before.

With the hem of his previously black cloak now illuminated by faint silvery runes, Nathaniel moves a little ahead and closes with one of the rats, his unsheathed blade darting forward as it seeks the creature's flesh.

Dvarin [/dice]finishes his incantation; he opens his eyes, mouthing one final word, and the darkness before him begins to coalesce; the shadows sprout wings and claws and beak, all tearing down at the rat screeching towards him.

The eagle rips the rat to shreds, quickly devouring the plague-ridden beast.

One of the beasts occupied, Dvarin turns towards the other; locking eyes with the creature, he chants again, though not nearly as many words as he intoned the last time, and in a different language than the one he spoke before.

With the hem of his previously black cloak now illuminated by faint silvery runes, Nathaniel moves a little ahead and closes with one of the rats, his unsheathed blade darting forward as it seeks the creature's flesh. Strike is well-placed, and cleanly severs the creature's spine, ending its threat with its miserable life.

To Dvarin's right, Hearda feels the savage part of his mind demand more brutal steps be taken here. Grasping the handle of his mace tightly he swings it in a wide arc, intending to splatter the rat's skull upon the floor. The blow is true, but, at the last moment, the rat steps to the side, and Hearda's blow smashes a bucket instead.

The tentacle creature sneers at the rat's cowardice, and charges Nathaniel.

Oldest One UP

The old one strides forward, desperate to escape the mountain of the dead. Even the monsters that surely awaited would be less awful than having to ascend that charnel tor again.

The old one strides forward, desperate to escape the mountain of the dead. Even the monsters that surely awaited would be less awful than having to ascend that charnal tor again. The Oldest One threads his way through the melee, dodging his fellows as the malign vermin attacked.

The rat sinks its teeth into Hearda's boot, savaging the leather with is rotted incisors. But, the Mystic is unharmed.

Amber up

Amber edges around the wall of the room, following in much the same path as the old man and trying to keep out of the way of the flurry of weapons and teeth. Once her line of vision is somewhat clear, she takes aim with her bow and sends an arrow at the ugly rat chewing on Hearda's boot.

Amber edges around the wall of the room, following in much the same path as the old man and trying to keep out of the way of the flurry of weapons and teeth. Once her line of vision is somewhat clear, she takes aim with her bow and sends an arrow at the ugly rat chewing on Hearda's boot. The arrow flies wide of its mark, however, and sinks deep into a pile of clothes.

[ooc]Round 2 over. Round 3. Feliks, Dvarin, Nathaniel, Hearda UP]

Feliks decided that it had to be done. That...thing needed dealing with and going against it might not be suicide now. Mindful of how he'd clouded its...whatever it had, he pushed forward and swung out clear of the others.

Double-moving to get in position for a shot next round. Not worried about stealth since he's invisible to it.

Hearda sees the arrow fly by his leg and turns to glare at the source of the shot. Seeing the elven woman sends a shiver of rage down his spine as he feels his savage nature creep ever closer to his conscious self.

AAAAARRRGGGG! I shall claim her as my conquest!

NOOO! She is not yours to claim...or is she anyone's! We WILL work together!

As if to punctuate his decision, the mace flies out towards the rat again, clanging into the wall with a loud *CLANG*...

As Dvarin's summoned creature vanishes, Dvarin draws his crossbow and loads a bolt, ready to fire at one of the rats.

Attempting to return the favor, Nathaniel tries a rather straightforward stab with his sword cane. There are no flourishes, no fancy footwork. But unlike his previous attack this one does not strike true, quite possibly due to his foe's rather... unique physiology.

Round 3

Feliks scurries to the east sneaking behind the tentacled rat, crossbow leveled at the ready. The creature's mind is clouded to his form, somehow, and pays the halfling no mind. Perhaps the creature is distracted by Nathaniel's sword strike. The man, attempting to return the creature's favor, stabs at it with his sword cane. There are no flourishes, no fancy footwork. But unlike his previous attack this one does not strike true, quite possibly due to his foe's rather... unique physiology.

Hearda sees the arrow fly by his leg and turns to glare at the source of the shot. Seeing the elven woman sends a shiver of rage down his spine as he feels his savage nature creep ever closer to his conscious self. He wars within himself primal savagery battling with calm civilized logic. Finally, the battle in his eyes ceases. As if to punctuate his decision, the mace flies out towards the rat again, clanging into the wall with a loud *CLANG*.

The tentacled rat sneers as every blow misses its target. It mutters a few words in a sick, twisting language that feels wet and slithery on the ears. It is an unnatural, aberrant tongue. Then, the creature rears back and savages Nathaniel's boot viciously.

Kalas moves to help Hearda fight the dire rat, Let us see how you like the taste of steel vile beast! He swings his heavy blade with abandon.

Power Attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Damage: 1d10 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

Thanks for catching you're up Kalas, totally forgot to post that. I'll take Oldest One and Amber, too

Amber feels a chill race up her spine as she spots the look on Hearda's face, a look that she can't quite understand though she senses an undercurrent of danger about it.

Tearing her gaze away from the half-orc she edges further into the room, now taking aim at the rat-creature facing Nathaniel and loosing another arrow.

The Oldest one springs forward to intercept Nathaniel's attacker, though he wields his stick with a will, it is more in the manner of a man driving off a rat than a true attack. More a distraction than a true threat, he still tried to make an opening for his sword-wielding companion.

Amber feels a chill race up her spine as she spots the look on Hearda's face, a look that she can't quite understand though she senses an undercurrent of danger about it.

Tearing her gaze away from the half-orc she edges further into the room, now taking aim at the rat-creature facing Nathaniel and loosing another arrow. The arrow swings wide, nearly planting in Nathaneil's boot.

Again, the creature mutters something in a dark and twisted language, almost mockinglyt.

End of Round 3. Start of Round 4. Feliks, Dvarin, Nathaniel, Hearda up!

Hearda stares at the elf woman for a brief second as the look of fear on her face is plain to see. His eyes glow with a fiery passion before he abruptly jerks his head to one side.

I...am...in...CHARGE here!

Gliding swiftly he maneuvers through the throng of combatants, brushing uncomfortably close to the woman who has affected him so, before sending all of his fury and rage down upon the tentacled rat, dealing a crushing blow upon its spine!

Feliks took a few more steps and trained his crossbow on the ...thing. Gods, what was that? He fired.

Once again the hooded man stabs at the strange creature, only this time he does so along with the rest of his newfound companions. And indeed it makes a difference.

Dvarin manuevers towards the tentacled rat to give himself room to fire at it.

Hearda stares at the elf woman for a brief second as the look of fear on her face is plain to see. His eyes glow with a fiery passion before he abruptly jerks his head to one side. Whatever battle he faces goes unnoticed by all save Amber. He overcomes his inner turmoils and, gliding swiftly, he maneuvers through the throng of combatants, brushing uncomfortably close to the woman who has affected him so, before sending all of his fury and rage down upon the tentacled rat, dealing a crushing blow upon its spine!

Immediately after, Nathaniel shoved his sword into the creature's skull, ending it.

Now that Dvarin has time to think, he recalls the creature's words. It spoke of enjoying eating humans and how stupid they all were.

end of round

Hearda feels his savage nature bubbling to the surface, threatening to influence his conscious thoughts once again. Taking the opportunity to distract himself from the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him again, he strides forward and brings his mace down upon the cowering rodent, ending its pitiful existence.

As the adrenaline fades from his blood, he shudders violently as the gruesome scene unfolds before him, clenching his jaws tightly together as a feeling of nausea overwhelms him. Not wishing to risk words here, and be overwhelmed by dry heaves, he concentrates upon his surroundings paying close attention to the door next to the rat's corpse.

Hearda feels his savage nature bubbling to the surface, threatening to influence his conscious thoughts once again. Taking the opportunity to distract himself from the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him again, he strides forward and brings his mace down upon the cowering rodent, ending its pitiful existence.

As the adrenaline fades from his blood, he shudders violently as the gruesome scene unfolds before him, clenching his jaws tightly together as a feeling of nausea overwhelms him. Not wishing to risk words here, and be overwhelmed by dry heaves, he concentrates upon his surroundings paying close attention to the door next to the rat's corpse.

Hearing nothing at the door, he opens it a crack and peeks through. The vision he sees is almost as nightmarish as the one he woke to in the cellars below. Broken lanterns and several battered doors line this cold, rubble-strewn hall. The hall is dark, although his primal nature allows him to pierce the darkness. To the north, the hall is choked with rubble from a collapsed wall. To the south, a pair of swinging doors lies shattered upon a 4-foot-high heap of wrecked furniture clogging a broad door frame. Lantern light flickers beyond through cracks in the barricade, and the tell-tale scrapes of boots and metal echo from just behind. Five men, he wagers.

Yay, new areas to explore!

Deciding to risk the dark, and put more distance between him and those many corpses, Feliks stalked toward the noise.

Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23
If he sees anyone, he'll fix the first or most dangerous looking with his gaze.

Hearda looks back to the others and raises his hand up in the air, all four fingers and thumb extended. Motioning to the south corridor he then makes a slashing gesture over his throat, indicating they were hostile.

Could they be...friendly?

ARE YOU INSANE! This place is filled with death. There is no succor to be found here!

Silent as shadow, Feliks slips down the ruined corridor. Furtive eyes scan the darkness. Every errant breeze is an assault, every inky doorway a portal to the unknown. He walks with exaggerated slowness, every step painstakingly exact. It would be so easy to run, lead his fellows in a charge and dash themselves against the barricade. But, Feliks knows better. He must remain silent! He must investigate this barricade to learn their intent.

His breath comes in short gasps, barely a whisper of air moving through his nose as he picks his way through shattered glass and furniture. A single misstep could send stone thumping, dislodge an overturned chair, or grind grit beneath the soles of his boots. Any noise, even the a a breeze when there shouldn't be one, could spell his doom.

But they do not hear his steps, and he makes his way to the very edge of the barricade.

Captain York, the children been screaming again, I heard. The voice is muffled, but easy to hear. It's a common voice, one unfamiliar with idle pursuits of study and philosophy. It is a strong voice, suited to one accustomed to labor and the skills of arm and shoulder. Several other voices make muffled agreements. They say they saw one of them Melters staring at them through the window last night. The voices grunt and nod in agreement.

Shut it, Gorse. This voice is firm and strong, but more educated and sure. It is the voice of someone who has come to accept his role as a leader. We don't need that talk, you're just scaring the men again. The babes are fine, asleep in the chapel. You'll see, they'll be right as rain once the fog clears. Then, we can leave this cursed place and never come back.

Feliks stood silent, listening to the men speak and trying to learn what their voices could tell.

Hanging out to hear more and get a feel for 'em.

Amber stands stock-still, bow still in her hands as Hearda peeks beyond the door and quickly indicates that there are more foes ahead. She simply nods, trying to still her trembling so her shots can be more accurate.

Come on Amber, you're not a warrior but I *know* you've been able to shoot better than what you just did.

"What now?" she finally breaks the silence. "Ambush?"

"Are we certain they are enemies?" Nathaniel's voice is soft, almost a whisper, as he expresses his doubts. "Or are we allowing our memory loss and perhaps even paranoia to make us see foes everywhere?"

"I'm sorry, I don't know about the rest of you but it's not every day that I wake up in what seems to be a living nightmare with no memory of how I got there and with a bunch of people I don't even know," Amber grumbles, the anxiousness in her eyes now replaced by irritation. "So I hope you'll forgive me for being just a bit on edge! But for the record I really hope you're right and I'm wrong because I'd love to see some friendlier faces right about now!"

The old man gasps for breath, waiting for the halfling to return.

Kalas joins the whispered conversation, "Erring on the side of caution can't hurt us, but rushing in without thinking certainly can. They could be prisoners like us, but that pile of corpses didn't get down their on its own."

"We do appear to outnumber them," adds Dvarin. "They do not appear to be acting erratically as the doppleganger was. Though that could be because they are the source of this madness in the first place. We will likely have to face them at some point regardless."

Hearda keeps one eye upon the halfling as he creeps closer to the men, and the other eye on the rest of his fellow dreamers. As he overhears the quiet conversation of the men, he silently calculates their motives.

They are guards. Useless and disposable. The leader of them...useful. He needs to tell what he knows..

"They are NOT prisoners. Not like us!" He hisses back at half-elf male. "As for their numbers...they have barricaded themselves." He grimaces back at Dvarin. Amber's words bring a chilling smile to his face, but the initial statement brings a nod to his face. "Yes. Ambush at the right time."

Heedless of the dreamers' conversation in their rat-infested room, Feliks crouches at the base of the barricade. Lantern light flickers through the chinks in the wood and the halfling holds his breath, listening as the guards talk.

You see anything out there? Any of the monsters? The same gruff commanding voice orders. Captain York, it seems.

No, sir.The first voice, Gorse, responds. Ain't seen none of them since last night.

Keep your weapons loose and your eyes sharp. Those monsters are out there, I can feel it. We need to stay ready until this fog clears. Then, we're free.

Feliks gasps.. the seem sincere in their efforts.

From the room, Hearda's mind begins combining the evidence, despite his primal need to kill. If the guards were truly monster, why go to these lengths for the ruse? What could it accomplish? Either there are other survivors and these monsters are trying to trick them. Or, more likely, these ARE survivors, and they're holding out against the monsters.