"Well done..." Amber murmurs as the old man's bottled fire puts an end to the rest of the strange, haunted corpse. "But if there is one of these, there's likely to be more scattered around this place."
"There must be in a place like this," Feliks said.
"At least now we know what they look like," Nathaniel offers. "Perhaps it would be best if we can avoid it next time. If we can."
Approaching Hearda he adds his own senses to the half-orc's. "So, do you hear anything?"
The wood of the door is old and weathered, splinters prick at the dreamers' cheeks and ears. Beyond they hear a man weeping and.. loud munching.
Hearda steps back from the door and whispers to the others, "I hear...something...on the other side. Weeping...and munching." He grips his mace tightly and reaches for the door handle, awaiting their signal.
"It may be another one of those creatures. They seem to have a flare for madness and a taste for human flesh." Kalas draws his blade and stands in line of sight of the door. He motions the others to try and stay out of sight and then he nods at Hearda to open it.
The old man is all to happy to let the young warrior take the lead.
"It may be another one of those creatures. They seem to have a flare for madness and a taste for human flesh." Kalas draws his blade and stands in line of sight of the door. He motions the others to try and stay out of sight and then he nods at Hearda to open it.
Feliks nodded his agreement and readied his crossbow.
"If we are all ready shall we open it then?" Reaching for his lockpicks Nathaniel proceeds -quietly- to examine the door to see if it is locked or not. If it is... well, a bit of practice in picking locks is always useful.
Nathaniel easily opens the lock and Kalas pushes the door open with is blade. The paladin bravely stands between his fellow dreamers and whatever horrors lay within. Sturdy racks and toppled tables with nets suggest this space once served as a sizable gaming room. Beyond the threshold, the flickering magicked lights of the dreamers reveal three prisoners bound by shackles to stout pipes. One, a man dressed in yellow-stained bed sheets draped about his body as a set of robes with the outline of a flame has been chalked onto his forehead weeps openly, curled upon himself. Another is a corpse, bound the same shackles to a separate pipe. Its body has been horribly gnawed and ruined, large strips of flesh torn from its body, bones shattered and chipped by sharp teeth. Between it and the crying man is a naked, ruin of a man. It's body gaunt, almost emaciated, its skin cracked and gray, eyes milky white but filled with malign rage and intelligence.. and a hunger. Its nose is gone, not torn, but sunken like a skull's, and its moth and tongue are stretched impossibly wide. It stretches over towards the corpse, sinking claw and tooth into the remains of the corpse's shoulder, ripping flesh and devouring greedily.
The creature looks up at the dreamers, a strip of flesh dangling from its maw. It watches the dreamers with sharp, calculating eyes. The man in yellow weeps crying out "Praise! Praise" over and over as a mantra.
Sanity Check for seeing the scary ghoul CR 11
Threshold 4 no damage
Threshold 5 no damage
Hearda is struck motionless here, transfixed by the scene before his eyes. The sights, sounds, and especially the smells assaulting his senses. Taking a few rapid breaths through his mouth seemed to help...a little.
Hearda steps just inside the doorway, gripping his mace tightly and allowing Kalas to take the lead. "Ware a trap here! He...IT may be able to free itself!"
It is fairly obvious to Dvarin that this creature is undead, though in this place he supposes he cannot be certain about anything--he was unable to effect the last walking corpse they encountered, after all. Regardless, it is worth a shot, so Dvarin closes his eyes and reaches out with his dark power, trying to take control of the monster.
Kalas steps very slowly and cautiously into the room, attempting to stay out of immediate reach of the creature as he studies it. His face is twisted in disgust.
"No, not a doppelganger," Nathaniel agrees as he looks at the hungry creature, waiting to see whether Dvarin's magic will take effect. Still he does not rely on that alone as he moves alongside Kalas, bestowing a minor protective spell on him before brandishing his slender sword.
Dvarin recognizes the undead as a ghoul, a creature afflicted with an all-consuming hunger that compels it to feast upon the flesh of the living. He knows this even as he completes his spell. Necrotic energy swirls around the ghoul's head, and its eyes glow a sickly green. The creature turns its head to face Dvarin. Yes? Blood and flesh drip from its razor teeth.
Hearda instinctively recoils at the sight of the ghoul staring at him and squeezes the haft of his weapon tightly, his knuckles growing white from the pressure. Glancing back at the fellow dreamer with a look of shock in his eyes, "You...you can...control...IT?"
"Creature," says Dvarin, still not crossing over the threshold of the door, his arms crossed across his chest. "Tell me the name that you had in life, and how you came to be in this state."
The old man takes a swallow of water, his gaze full of suspicion where it falls on Dvarin.
I've seen clerics with such power before, but... they are often on the side of evil or one push away from being so. He bears watching. Despite his misgivings Kalas waits for the ghoul's reply with bated breath.
The creature pauses, munching on some flesh. It swallows, every muscle in its neck visible beneath its taut skin. Name's Argade. It speaks with the rough tones of a common laborer, its words and accent as ill-formed and corrupt as its flesh. Used to be a patient here, I did. Woke up one day like this.[b] It shrugs, unconcerned about its condition. [b]Then them shapeshifters took me and my mates. Through us in shackles for treatment. It looks over at the closed door on the southern wall and pulls away, back towards the man in yellow sheets.
Zandalus SEES!! The man screams into the air, covering his face with his shackled hands and pulling away as far as he can form the ghoul. Zandalus sees!!!
"Zandalus?" Nathaniel's question is directed towards no one in particular. "Would that be the yellow-garbed man?" He pauses, his momentary silences enhancing the meaning of his words. "Or someone -or something- else?"
"Argade. You are not to consume this man yet. Do you know his name and how he came to be here?" continues Dvarin. He glances back at the rest of the party, ignoring any looks of shock or horror on their faces. "This man has become a ghoul. They are a cannibalistic form of undead--usually they result from power necromantic magic or the spread of ghoul fever."
This is the second person we have encountered who has been transformed via unknown means. They are doubtlessly connected. This is far beyond ordinary magic."
"Can he be cured?" asks the old man, distaste wrought bold upon his face.
Hearda shakes his head in disgust, a look of sick horror in his eyes. "I...I fear death is the only cure for such evil!"
"I believe the dopplegangers to be victims of this as well. The one imprisoning us claimed to have been a human previously; I believe she was telling the truth. Dopplegangers are not normally so--erratic, and they lack the ability to transform others into their kind. There is something else behind this."
"Undeath is not a disease. But it would take powerful magic to change him back. Magic that I doubt any of us have."
Argade considers and turns Dvarin's request then shrugs. Wasn't going to eat him yet, anyways. Not when I have a fresh meal right here. He rips a piece of meat from the corpse's leg. Don't know his name. He doesn't say much of anything but what you heard. Zandalus sees! Praise! Stuff like that. Day in, day out! Make a man go crazy, it would.
"Do you know who Zandalus is?"
Feliks couldn't take it any longer, his hands twitched and he just barely managed to step clear of the others before emptying his stomach.
Dear gods...
"Do you know who Zandalus is?"
Zandalus SEES! Zandalus SEES! the man in yellow clutches his head and rocks back and forth, crying like a lost babe as he moans into his yellowed sheets. His words are lost, but it's clear he repeats the phrase over and over again.
Despite her knowledge of the unknown, gleaned from sources she knows snot where, Amber cannot recall any being who bears the name Zandalus, nor can she divine its purpose or why this man would utter it so.
The ghoul shrugs He don't say much else than that. Never heard of him myself.
Kalas sighs deeply and his disgust at allowing this creature to continue to devour a corpse in their sight is obvious, "We can't just leave the man in here, whether he will talk to us in proper common or not." Kalas waltzes into the cell with a purpose and attempts to cleave through the chains holding the gibbering man captive.
Kalas sighs deeply and his disgust at allowing this creature to continue to devour a corpse in their sight is obvious, "We can't just leave the man in here, whether he will talk to us in proper common or not." Kalas waltzes into the cell with a purpose and attempts to cleave through the chains holding the gibbering man captive.
[dice=Damage]1d10+9
The ghoul remains fixed on Dvarin who currently holds power over its mind, and Kalas' blade bursts the prisoner's shackles easily. The patient falls to his knees kissing and hugging Kalas' greaves. Priase! Praise! Zandalus sees! Zandalus sees!
Hearda glances back at the halfling dreamer Feliks and places a hand upon his shoulders. "Stay strong my friend. We will get through this!"
As Kalas frees the prisoner, he bends down to face the insane man Zandalus in his eyes. "Tell me what you see Zandalus...what do you see NOW?"
Zandalus sees! Praise praise! THe man crawls over to Hearda's boots. He reeks of urine and fear. Praise! Praise!
The patient is clearly afflicted with some mental malady that prevents him from speaking further.
Kalas pulls the gibbering man to his feet and hopes he can stand on his own, "Come on then friend, we're getting you out of here."
"Minds? No, not exactly," Nathaniel replies. "Yet, perhaps there is a way to maybe find out more. Hardly a flawless way, I admit."
"Ask it of any others it knows. It doesn't seem to have been chained here - must've come from somewhere." The old man suggests, his face screwed up in disgust.
Hearda pauses upon hear the suggestion about using the unusual skill upon the patient. "An interesting theory...however it would presumably work on only human skulls...Fortunately, this one does qualify as such... Well let me see if I can learn any more here..." He then gently rubs his hands over the madman Zandalus' skull.
"I could attempt to recover his memories, but that would take time I fear we do not have," says Dvarin, smirking at Amber.
"It has already introduced himself, by the way. His name is Argade," says Dvarin at the Oldest One's request. "Argade. Are there any other ghouls in the asylum? How did you come to this particular room?"
Hearda bends down and nearly gags. The man reeks of urine! Running his fingers over the poor man's skull, tracing the bumps and ridges of his head, the mystic closes his eyes and reads the primitive nature of the man's character. Age and ailment, all are made clear to Hearda's nimble fingers.
The man is in his early twenties and suffers from aphasia--he can only repeat a few words of what he wishes to say.
From the other side of the alcove, Argade shrugs at the necromancer's question. There are many of us. Have't met 'em all. Damned doctor took me, chained me here with my mates for his experiments. Last one stopped screaming awhile ago. Don't know what that means for her, but every time the screaming stops, Doctor Oathsday comes and gets another of us.
Hearda steps away from the brain-damaged man, wiping his hands on a discarded cloth. Turning to his fellow dreamers he shakes his head, almost sadly. "His brain has been damaged, by what I cannot say. I think he is, err was one of the original patients of this place. We should move on from here." He finishes, closely eyeing the ghoul distrustfully.
The creature ignores her, and licks its lips at the center corpse beside it.
"Let's move on then. We'll take our friend here with us for now. Perhaps the other men will protect him once we 'prove' ourselves." He motions to the door to the south, "Through there then?"