"Nah, not going to negotiate with undead." Eben is clearly disdainful of the notion. "But I plan to help Astraden put the fear of a god into them, you bet your asses."
"I have just the god in mind," the cleric agrees, following Tanith.
Farrukh and the others move into the room. The stink is even greater here, and the bodies more numerous. Some even look rather fresh.
As the adventurers enter and move Eben's spell in further, a chorus of hisses sounds from further into the chamber. Leaning around rocks and corners, flinching as the light touches their pallid flesh, are numerous, numerous ghouls. These creatures have not been seen by Spiny's Six since the underwater battle in the Whispering Cairn, but their sharp teeth, red eyes and emaciated, starved features are unmistakable. Their smell is even stronger than one would expect for the dead. Truly, these revolting sins against nature smell less like a pack of corpses and more like a mass grave.
The undead spill out of their hiding places and mass towards the adventurers' location. Despite their frenzy, only two are quick enough to attempt attacks—both on Farrukh.
Both miss thanks to Farrukh's as-ever impeccable defense.
"Careful! These're some kind of primal ghoul, and they stink worse than Rodrigo's dog," Astraden warns.
"That's a lot of ghouls", Tanith says with a grimace.
Had I been aware that our hours long buffs were down I would have asked for it before I even pulled up the plug.
When the ghasts attack, Carina springs into action. She yanks the flask of purple fluid from her belt and chugs it down...
She feels her reflexes sharpen and her vision bleeds into monochrome. She can see, hear and smell everything... the drops of water falling off Astraden's back, the panting of Rodrigo's summoned hound, the twitching of dead muscles in a ghast's face.
Can't risk throwing bomb yet. Too many people in the way.
From beyond the area of the light spells, to the southeast, there comes the sound of bare footsteps, followed by a gagging hiss. "Foe of All Good, send us a token of thy esteem!"
A ghostly scythe of rattling bones appears in front of Farrukh and slashes out.
Farrukh, pissed off, begins slicing at the ghasts arrayed around him.
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Eben's finger clicks a button on his rod, almost imperceptibly casting cat's grace on himself. Much, much more noticeable is his voice ringing out in response to the speaking ghoul, sounding for all the word like a fervent street preacher on a corner somewhere in the city. (Which is in fact exactly where he practiced this routine, it was a great little scam involving him and a buddy asking for 'donations' for fake Cuthbertine relics. Earned him a pretty penny or two back in the day, and Eben is amused at the irony that now he's using it to back up an honest to goodness priestess.)
"Woe unto ye, and abase thyselves before the puissance of Olidamarra's own chosen! Beware her might and potence, and the righteous power of her faith! Submit yourselves to the judgement of a power beyond your own! Flee before her strength, before you are unwoven into unsightly necromantic stains! Gosh, I'm glad I'm not an unliving abomination, because this s@&& will surely hurt like a b$@~&! "
Out of the corner of his mouth, in between foretellings of doom upon all things undead, he says to Astraden, "I think they're ready for you now..."
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Carina winces. "Spiritual Weapon. Make killing the caster top priority."
Bad memories of last time. Won't die to it twice.
Farrukh, pissed off, begins slicing at the ghasts arrayed around him.
[dice=Slash]1d20+12
[dice=Damage]1d6+13
[dice=Bash]1d20+14
[dice=Bash]1d20+9
[dice=Damage]1d6+15
Though put off a bit by the smell, Farrukh is able to decapitate one of the creatures.
The ghasts themselves hesitate in response to Eben's oration, appearing to for the first time realize Astraden carries a holy symbol.
"Priessstessss..."
"The godssss are not welcome here..."
"What hassss Okoral led upon ussss?"
Rodrigo chants a spell, and his companions feel themselves moving much faster. The cerberi charges into the room after the undead.
Each one is +12
LE Medium outsider (evil, extraplanar, lawful)
Init +6; Senses soul scent; Perception +15
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 12, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +6 natural)
hp 92 (8d10+46)
Fort +12, Ref +8, Will +4
OFFENSE
Speed 40 ft.
Melee 3 bites +13 (1d6+7 plus cerberus's jaws)
Special Attacks rend (2 bites, 1d6+7 or 3 bites, 1d6+10)
STATISTICS
Str 20, Dex 14, Con 23, Int 6, Wis 15, Cha 9
Base Atk +8; CMB +11; CMD 23 (27 vs. trip)
Feats Alertness, Combat Reflexes, Improved Initiative, Stand Still
Skills Acrobatics +13 (+17 when jumping), Perception +15, Sense Motive +4, Stealth +13, Survival +10 (+14 when tracking undead); Racial Modifiers +4 Survival when tracking undead
Languages Infernal (cannot speak)
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Cerberus's Jaws (Su)
Curse—bite; save Fort DC 20; effect dimensional anchoring. A creature affected by this curse cannot utilize extradimensional travel such as teleport, as if it were under the effect of a dimensional anchor spell. The save DC is Constitution-based.
Soul Scent (Su)
This ability functions as the scent ability, save that it also grants the cerberi a +4 racial bonus on Survival checks made to track undead. This ability even allows a cerberi to track the passage of an incorporeal creature.
The cerberi is unaffected by the stench, despite having three canine noses.
Tanith hacks at the nearer undead with his mighty poleaxe. "Red, stay far away from that thing."
Astraden splits into two forms, then begins to build up divine energy in her body through her connection with Olidammara. Once Eben completes his spell, white and gray light shines from around the half-orc's breastbone, seeming to emanate from underneath her illusory leather jerkin. The light brings with it a sound of keening, and the undead before the group feel their minds struck by a god-given terror.
She then steps forward, fighting the urge to vomit.
All but three of the ghasts quail as Astraden's holy energy suffuses the chamber.
"Aaah! The light...no!"
"The tiefling is on hissss own thissss time!"
"Forgive ussss, mighty one!"
Those turned make to flee.
Five of the ghasts flee. The remaining three hesitate, but begin to follow—two making parting shots before they go.
Carina moves in closer to the scythe, fighting back painful memories of Theldrick's flails...
Not again. F!%@ you and your magic--won't happen again.
She yanks one of her remaining bombs free and throws it at the weapon...
The scythe flickers, sparks, then winks out with a small flash.
"Mortal!" hisses the voice from beyond the light's edge. "Come to me, and face your future!"
Farrukh feels the spell compelling him to obey.
Eben dashes forward, sending his dancing lights on ahead of him. "So you're a tiefling, huh?" he says to the dark figure. "Well, you know what we do to tieflings in these parts? We... get them turned into undines, which really, doesn't sound that bad, but there's a death involved first, which I imagine is painful. Anyhow." He shoots an arrow at the conclusion of his... perhaps less than intimidating, yet still magically empowered, speech.
Eben gags on ghastly stench, but doesn't quite puke.
The arrow lodges in something. As the light passes over, Eben sees that his target is not a tiefling. Its skin is virtually covered in scar tissue. It carries a sack at its side, and its eyes gleam red with hate for all living. As it begins to back away, the ghast brandishes an unholy symbol of Nerull at Eben and speaks.
"I am no tiefling, mortal. Okoral can handle you on his own—we will not die on his account—but you will wish we had devoured you all when his unholy work is through! Soon that whole city shall be white and dead!"
Eben sees that the arrow stuck in the creature's shoulder, where its impact was largely absorbed by the scar tissue.
Tanith moves in next to Eben and hacks at one of the fleeing undead.
Another ghast falls in two pieces under Tanith's ferocious assault.