Philgor grabs the end of the table and attempts to flip it over.
The heavy table resists Philgor's attempts to flip it as he feels the intense heat that threatens to move from uncomfortable to painful in short order.
Grease fire...grease fire. Lighter than water, and likely even the unignited fuel is hotter than the boiling point of water. Shackleton is right - pouring water is just going to force steam up from underneath, spattering scalding and/or flaming grease all over the room.
Cloaks and blankets could smother it, but that will take time if it works at all. All while breathing smoke and fumes. If they can't beat it back faster than it spreads, the whole building will go up...including the volatiles stored in his room. Sure, he left the worst of it in the stables, but lots of things will burn violently if you actually put a torch to them.
Back to basics. Fire requires fuel, oxidizer, heat. It supplies its own heat, once lit. There is nothing he can do about the spreading grease puddle. Third leg, oxidizer. Air, in this case. No. Going in circles. Cloaks and blankets aren't going to do it. He needs a way to deprive it of air, all at once...he's got it!
"Get her out of here! I'll handle the fire." Argus shouts. "Get outside, and try to find a bucket of earth, in case this doesn't work!"
Shackleton's pack lands with a thud as he stares in slack-jawed silence. "By Cayden, you're either a genius or completely off your chump..." he says, grinning as he shoulders his pack once more and ushering the innkeep out of the common room.
At Argus' urging, you all leave the kitchen, Isald giving nervous looks back. The alchemist follows you moments later and an explosion -- making the dwarven proprietor jump -- booms through the small room. Despite the unconventional attempt, it seems to work, the fire being doused by the blast.
"Thank you," Isald exclaims. "I think two more of them -- disgusting blobby things -- went into the basement! Please, stop them before they destroy everything. I have relics down there. You can have them if you destroy the devils. Here, take these!"
She thrusts three bottles -- marked "curative" -- at you.
While the smoke clears in the kitchen and everyone catches their breath and prepares to descend into the basement Philgor says, "Argus help me finish putting on this armor. It's flopping all over the place."
Argus hurls the burst jar into the flames. Though the components are hypergolic with each other, neither burns in air, and they produce more pressure than heat.
He's already headed out the door by the time the compounds react, blasting the air away from the flames. With luck, the grease and oil will have cooled just enough to not reignite when the air (also now cooler) rushes back in half a second later.
When he looks back, he's pleased to see that it worked. The kitchen is charred, spattered with hot grease and broken glass, but the fire is out.
He takes a moment to focus and release the magic that has shrunk him to Shackleton's size. Restored to normal height, he does his best to help Philgor with his armor. While he has no particular special training with military armors, his general expertise with contraptions helps him figure out how things are supposed to work. At the same time, he'll finish tightening and adjusting his own armor.
"Relics in the basement and holy water under the bar. Is there anything we need to know? And is there anything else her that might help kill these things?"
'
"Blobby is better than flying. If someone wants to open & close the doors I can get a few shots in. We might also be able to bottleneck them in stairs if that is the case." Lyra offers to help Philgor also.
Philgor asks Isald, "How big is the basement and how is it layed out?"
Once his armor is in place Philgor heads for the stairs.
He stops at the top and waits for the others. He also listens for anything he can hear from below.
"It's a long room that stretches out from the stairway, filled with supplies," Isald explains.
However, it's a spiral staircase, so you won't be able to fire down from above. You can't hear anything from below.
The newly called Olive stretches her neck and dark tongue with a big yawn. She raises her rump in the air and her claws dig harmlessly into the carpet as she lets out a satisfied mewl. She listens to the half-elf's update, frowning deeper at every mention of devils and then follows Philgor to the stairs.
Lyra did her best to assure Isald the delay was necessary. "I've seen enough of Mr. Longhammer in action to trust his judgements on proper preparation."
Once everyone is ready Philgor heads down the stairs. Moving slowly until he reaches the bottom. He cautiously looks around the corner and sees.....
While Philgor descends followed by Lyra, Argus, Olive and Shackleton, Vegazi and Ingrid agree they'll stay upstairs to make sure no more devils enter as you clear out the lower levels.
As Isald described, barrels of wine flank the walls of the long stone cellar. On the eastern end of the basement, various meats hang from chains and hooks attached to the ceiling.
Down the hallway, you see two misshapen blobs of flesh, like you fought when your first descended to the first floor. They see the big human's arrival and turn to fight.
They're lemures, the least of devilkind.
Shackleton clambers atop the nearest wine barrel and braces himself. When the devil enters Philgor's threatened area, he will lodge a boot in it's gummy face and send it sprawling.
As Argus descends the stairs, his shrinking potion fails him, nearly causing him to miss a step. He sighs, reaching for a fresh vial: a stimulant that will shake off the last of the effects of sleep and quicken his reactions. At the cost of a slight disorientation.
Lyra shoots over the first combatants to hit the second. Olive moves to back up philgor.
,
Philgor: 6*
Lyra: 20
Argus: 13
Shackleton: 12
Antagonist: 8
Lyra's arrow hits the nearest devil, but doesn't seem to mar its flesh at all as Shackleton flips past her onto the far wine cask.
He's ready when the devil rushes toward Philgor, flipping the first one onto its back as he easily dodges its swipe at him. It clambers back to its feet as the other approaches .
Philgor swings at the second one to take advantage of the full power of his weapon. .
He remembers that piercing one did no good so he uses the blunt force of his weapon to smash the creature
Shackleton succeeds in flooring the creature once more but is unable to bring his mace to bear.
Argus moves forward, now visibly twitchy. He'll slip out beside Philgor and use his baton to keep the frontmost devil disoriented. He trusts his heightened reactions to protect himself.
Olive tries to move through her allies in the stairs, to get into the basement. As she passes Lyra casts a spell to add arcane energy to enhance the creature's bite.
Philgor: 6*
Lyra: 20
Argus: 13
Shackleton: 12
Antagonist: 8
Philgor slams the farther devil, though as before it seems to have less effect than he thinks, the creature's flesh immediately flowing back into place.
Moments later, Lyra's strange turtle creature slides down the stairway, moving under your legs . The devils claws scrape off Olive's hard shell before its beak closes on her, tearing and ripping, though the taste is bitter and foul.
Argus, with nowhere to go, can only watch as Shackleton flips the nearest devil back onto the ground and then can't quite reach it with his mace from his elevated perch.
As it tries to stand, he flips it again but its companion takes advantage of the opening and claws the gnome, blood spilling from his side. With Shackleton distracted, it finally gets to its feet , only to suffer another bite from Olive.
D1: 4
D2: 9
Philgor takes a swing at the creature as it stands up.
Missing he readjusts his grip and attacks the further on again
Shackleton, fresh bloodied, will adopt a defensive posture, harrying the closer of the two fiends and attempting to floor it a third time.
Olive makes another step and bites at the demon trying to pull it between. Her and Philgor.
,
,
Philgor: 6*
Lyra: 20
Argus: 13
Shackleton: 12
Antagonist: 8
Philgor's swing misses the nearest creature, but connects with the latter, which is hammered to the ground and begins to immediately disintegrate, its fleshy form even more revolting as it melts into the ground.
As Shackleton trips the devil, barely avoiding its claws again, Olive tears into it, pulling it between her and Philgor. It tries to rise, but Olive's jaws and Philgor's hammer make short work of it, and its splattered remains join its companions.
Combat over, you take stock as Isald joins you. She lifts a loose stone revealing what Argus immediately recognizes as two water purification sponges, a very nice heavy crossbow with 20 bolts, a buckler that she tells you is enchanted , a scroll and two weapon oils that the dwarf says could help you protect the village .
"Please, take these," she says. "You helped save my inn, and they'd have all been lost if it weren't for you!"
"thank you mistress. The inn won't last much longer if the rest of town is overrun," Lyra considered this for a bit. "If we have the inn secure we should get the rest of the villagers here? Shackleton looks like he could use a break though."
"Yes, if they want to come here, Ingrid and I will try to protect them!"
The other dwarf, who entered town with you, looks irritated as she sees Shackleton's wounds.
"You should be more careful," she instructs. "Come here."
She lays hands on the gnome, intoning a prayer to heal him.
Shackleton will down the potion of cure light wounds still in his posession, and thank Ingrid for the healing spell with his most courteous smile. "Much obliged, dear lady." he says, turning to the others. "I've still got wind in my bellows lass, never you worry. Let's be off. This inn is as safe a spot as any."
Shackleton will reach for the scroll, waving off the oversized weapons.
Philgor grabs one of the oils and starts reading the instructions on the label as he heads back up the stairs.
Lyra and Olive follow the fighter. "Olive can't use the oil. I can add it to my bow, but I would rather Philgor uses one, then the other."
The relics doled out, you return to the first floor before setting yourselves to go outside, Vegazi following you.
Exiting the Blissful Badger, the extent of the chaos in Arwyll Stead becomes much clearer: townsfolk run through the streets, flocks of gaavs assail buildings and innocents, and lemures pour down the cobblestone avenues in a scene of almost total anarchy.
You haven't gone more than a dozen steps when you're hailed by a familiar figure: Mayor Proum, who's followed by a blonde woman in a battered breastplate, with a shield and longspear in hand.
"You're all right. Thank the gods. I was coming this way to try to find you! The leader of the raid was seen running down the streets toward the catacombs but I have no one else to try to find her. Lisbet here has agreed to go --" he gestures to the blonde woman -- "but I can't send her by herself. Who knows what else is down there?! Please, will you go?"
The woman raises her chin in greeting, the braids of her hair moving against the motion of her head, "Call me Lisbet, and glad to have shield-mates for these troubles." She looks the haggard group up and down, "I can do some healing if anyone is seriously hurt..." As she speaks, the sash she wears seems to start sliding around her torso until she drops her elbow down to pinch it in place.
"Save your strength, Lisbet. Ovir can heal them if they need it," the mayor interjects, suddenly peering over the group to see if it has any wounds that need to be dealt with.
"As you say. So long as their arms don't fail when we need them."
Lyra smiles, "Glad for your company."
"We should take the leader out, there seems to be no end to these here. You can lead the way?" Lyra tells the mayor the inn is currently secure and he can send refuges there.
Philgor salutes Mayor Proum and Lisbet.
"Welcome Lisbet. I would be glad to join you. What did the leader look like?"
Shackleton's sleeve is doing little to staunch the flow of blood, his shoulders sagging with relief at the prospect of magical healing, when his wounds are seen to he turns to the newcomer. "Well met, lass! Your accent... Kalsgard? I've family there myself." he booms, brusquely shaking the Ulfen woman's spearhand. "No sense dilly-dallying any longer. Let's have at them!"
Argus nods at Shackleton's words and you all rush through the center of town to the opening of the catacombs.
The sacred site is well-maintained, broad and impressive, with 15-foot-tall ceilings throughout. Empty sconces line the walls every 20 feet. As you go to enter, though, Argus pauses.
"Perhaps I'd better stay here, make sure nothing comes up on us from behind."
Making your way down the wide central corridor, you discover a pile of boulders, broken rock, and rubble blocking the main passageway where the ceiling collapsed. From the looks of it, the blockage has been there for some time. On either side of the hallway, 5-foot-wide passages lead into other areas.
Lyra says Defensive Hive Left," and moves to right wall until she is within a single step of the door. Her bow out she covers the turtle-creature.
Olive nods and moves in front of the left door to peer down the hall.
Olive sees an oval chamber with skull-sized cavities dot its finely carved walls in an orderly fashion. The cubbies contain funerary urns of varying quality and size.
Passages lead in either direction from the chamber.
Down the other direction, she can see a pair of rooms, with passages branching off. Sarcophagi line the walls and occupy the corners of those chambers. The sarcophagi each bear inscriptions and minute cosmetic differences indicative of the individual enshrined.
Shackleton will dust off his Wayfinder, sending bright light cascading off the walls. He keeps his oil and scroll at the ready, tucking them into his broad belt.
To Shackleton Lisbet says, "Nae not Kaalsgard, but the islands westerly. Now to business." She sets a steel helm on her head and straps her spear to her back, drawing a long and heavy blade. She hefts it, giving it a twist - "These things fend off steel easy?" She moves amongst the party to ensure she is at the front of the group, ready for action. "Thanks for the light, mate."
Philgor opens the Oil of Align Weapon and applies it to his Bec de Cobin.
"Not only do they fend it off but when you hit one it shrugs off the damage and smiles back at you"
He then pulls out his Everburning Torch before moving up next to Lisbet.
"Now which way do we go?"
"North" rumbles the turtle-creature. Olive will lead unless anyone has objections.
You move into the room to your left, only to realize three more lemures are in the area, and they quickly begin to move toward you.
Shackleton will begin a summoning spell from the scroll at his belt, summoning a celestial wolverine from the forests of Elysium, fumbling with the heavy vellum in the gloom as he intones the spell in a halting pidgin of Gnomish and Celestial. Reality begins to ripple in the centre of the chamber.