| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
“That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.”
Tenebrynn shivered in the dark, eyes wide but unseeing.
Kyffin wakes thickly but does not quite open his eyes at first. They feel spongy and moist with cruft. He peels his eyes open and tries to steady himself mentally. He tries to shake his head to clear his vision, and the resulting spin is too much.
He passes out…
Belzoni slowly drifts awake, wondering at the strange thick air and the lack of dry heat.
Coming to your senses -- such as they are -- you realize you're in a strange alley, but you don't know where ... Your pulse pounds, your heart feeling like it's fit to beat out of your chest. Your only immediate consolation is you're not alone -- five of you are together in this strange place, a gnome, a half-orc and three humans -- except you don't know who they are. Then, sickeningly, you realize you don't even know who you are.
All around is a wall of sickly yellow fog, tumbling through the alley’s canyon of crumbling, gray brick walls like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley splits, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of mist, emanates the sound of footsteps — slow, but somehow keeping pace with the careening, hungry wave.
Tristain blinks, looking around. He backs up looking at the faces near him until he bumps against a wall, his hands feeling the brick behind him.
Tristain speaks, unable to put more words out until his mind wraps around where he finds himself...uttering only one word:
"What?"
AC: 15 (f11/t14) HP: 11/11
Weapon Equipped = None
Silver Blanch, Cold Iron Bolts = 10/10
Conditions = None
Melee: Attack: BAB +0, Str +3 Damage: Str +3
Ranged: Attack: BAB +0, Dex +1 Damage: +0 (Str +3 thrown)
Blessings (3/3)
Spells (Caster Level 1, Concentration +3)
Zero (12): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light
First (13): Cure Light Wounds, Divine Favor
What the hell?
The half-orc looks around the fog, and at the others, and stumbles as he tries to shift his position to be against a wall his back away from any of the others.
Quick thinking may save you here.
He tries to concentrate, but the pounding of the footsteps somehow make his head ring.
This is not right.
He looks again at the others, and at himself.
He tries to piece together the recent past at least, but falters. Thinking quickly, or perhaps slowly by now, he checks himself for injury.
He feels as though some steel in his hands would be good and wonders what weapons, if any, he favors. Looking at his hands, he sees no heavy calluses on the knuckles so assumes he’s not a boxer.
He does see the small dawn flower tattoo between his thumb and forefinger... Sarenrae! ...and takes some solace in it.
He says aloud to the others, ”Who are you, and why have you brought me here?”
"Huh?! Brought you here? Who brought me here? Better question: who's following us? No, not following. Chasing. Chasing? Chasing! We better run! Run! Figure out the whos and whys and wheres later!"
Action: If possible, run (x4 speed, for a total of 80). If not possible, double move for 40. Tenebrynn will favor the right fork.
Heinrich staggers to his feet, looking about and checking his many pouches to see if his chymicals are with him and intact. He immediately begins to mix a bomb, holding off on the final ingredient until he spots a hostile.
"Patience, my strange friends. Rushing about is no fit state for a man. Calm yourself and I'm sure we might reason together why we are here."
Belzoni stretches to his full height, towering above the others, and slaps a hand to his belly. "Strangers, I say we run away, and live to eat another day. This fog is more unnatural than a bearded lady and less appealing than a shaved cat."
The alley walls sag, battered brick slumping over the path as you run for your life, nearly blotting out the bruised twilight sky. Again the grimy cobblestone path splits. This time one route curves uphill, while the other recklessly descends. Behind, the yellow fog and the relentless sound of pursuit grow closer.
Unfortunately, you realize suddenly that the strange footsteps are ahead of you. As you try to end your headlong rush into the bruised mist, you get a quick glimpse through the fog of a humanoid figure, dressed in tattered yellow rags, a strip of cloth covering its eyes, but leaving its fangs and claws all too visible.
You don't get any more time for a good look as those claws suddenly slash across your throat! You have just a moment for a flash of pain, and struggle to find breath to call out or do anything else. As you hear the footsteps receding, your chest grows tight ... though at least you realize your heart isn't pounding anymore. In fact, it feels as if it's barely beating. Everything goes dark and a bitter, unending cold spreads through your body as you realize you're falling, falling into death's embrace.
Your take one last, weak, liquid breath and hit the ground ...
Only to wake in a place that seems just as strange!
The gnome girl takes off running into the mist as you each try to get your bearings, the footsteps seeming to fade for just a moment before returning, getting closer once again.
You hear what sounds like a splash, and realizing droplets of whatever it was -- a warm, sticky red liquid -- hit you as well.
Through a swirl in the sickly murk you realize the liquid that splashed you has mainly spattered on the wall. It drips down in dark red streaks, but much of it seems to have stuck in a pattern that looks like the word “me.”
Kyffin, you're dressed, but you realize you have little else on you -- just your light crossbow (but no bolts), five candles and five pieces of chalk.
You realize you only have your walking stick, a single dagger, one of your extracts and a single prepared bomb. You feel certain you should have more, but you're not sure what you could have done with it.
Round 2: Chaos in the Streets
Perception
"What? What?" Tristain replies, still with wild eyes and both distrust and uncertainty in his voice. "Who are you people?"
Tristain eyes go from person to person, traveling way way up to look in Belzoni's face, then look away.
Tristain skitters away from the 'red fluid' spray, moving along the wall away from the streaks. He ignores the splatter upon himself.
He tries to keep his back to the wall even as his eyes are wide with concern.
Weapon Equipped = Light Crossbow
Silver Blanch, Cold Iron Bolts = 0/10
Conditions = None
Melee: Attack: BAB +0, Str +3 Damage: Str +3
Ranged: Attack: BAB +0, Dex +1 Damage: +0 (Str +3 thrown)
Blessings (3/3)
Spells (Caster Level 1, Concentration +3)
Zero (12): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light
First (13): Cure Light Wounds, Divine Favor
vs DC 10
Examining the wall, briefly, and checking his gear, he shrugs, and ponders what to do next. He draws his crossbow so he at least has an improvised weapon, and slowly peers into the mist after the gnome.
He readies an attack with the crossbow should anyone attack him - including the others.
(improvised)
- - -
”I don’t think that little lady is with us anymore.” he gestures to a bloodstained wall.
He ignores the panicking pudgy man as he has no answers for him, and instead asks a few of his own.
”Anyone have any crossbow bolts?” he holds up a crossbow, ”I think I can use this thing to some effectiveness, but I have no quarrels.” he looks to the others for something… anything… a clue.
”I think I agree with the mustache here - let’s proceed carefully. I think someone or something is hunting us, so we should stick together and move as a group. But I also agree with the beard - let’s move, but I don’t know what direction is safest.”
Heinrich's eyes go wide. "What is this madness you have caused?!? WHY AM I HERE? ANSWER ME DAMN YOU!" He cries out, his calm clearly slipping.
Heinrich will keep a hold of the bomb with one hand and brandish his cane with the other. He'll back up as close to the wall as he can get without touching it and look around wildly, readying an action to throw a bomb should the unseen enemy show up!
for fire damage and 4 splash, Ref DC 13 for half on the splash!
"No time for indecisive action, unless you want to end up a splatter like that." Belzoni points to the bloody wall, then starts moving.
As Kyffin and Heinrich ready themselves to face whatever's in the mist, Belzoni and Tristain depart in different directions, both moving quickly and with purpose.
They've only gone a short way before all four of you hear a voice no one recognizes echoing in the mist, as if from down a long hall. The word “me” resonates in your ears.
As you move, the mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of mustard rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that’s almost humanlike — but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy yellow ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim.
Before you can do anything, you realize the figure has a wicked razor in its hand and it slashes across your throat, spraying blood with a wet sound.
You fall in darkness, realizing with horror as you do so that you've been killed. A cold envelops you and you realize you're can't brace yourself from this fall, down, down, down ... Until you hit with a thud and open your eyes to wake in a place almost just as strange!
The mist swirls again as you hear a sickening, choked-off scream, this time blood spattering the word "up" on the wall.
A few moments later, you hear the same strange voice as before, this time calling out, "Up!"
As you hear this second word, the mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of mustard rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that’s almost humanlike — but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy yellow ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim.
Before you can do anything, you realize the figure has a wicked razor in its hand and it slashes across your throat. You're soon falling into darkness, the end seemingly an eternity away but rushing closer with ineffable speed. You are falling into a sleep from which you are certain you won't awaken ... only to in fact do so, in a scene that is almost as strange as the one from which you've just left!
The mist swirls again as you hear a sickening, choked-off scream, this time blood spattering the word "save" on the wall.
A moment later, the strange voice speaks for a third time, this time calling out, "Save."
Death, it's clear, lurks in the mist, but before you cab do anything more to prepare yourselves, the mist parts. A mask of mustard rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that’s almost humanlike — but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy yellow ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim.
You fight, but it's for naught as its war razor slashes across Heinrich's throat, splattering his blood across the wall, red, sticky droplets splashing across the half-orc's face and clothing.
A glance reveals the blood spatters on the wall now read "wake."
After a few seconds, your erstwhile companion's mouth lolls open and the voice calls out for a fourth time, this time clearly from his throat, though it doesn't sound like him at all: Wake!"
Another voice, different this time, suddenly calls out in your head, WAKE! and you realize with a start that only slightly lessens the pounding of your heart that none of this is real, but rather some horrid nightmare. When the tattered figure reaches for you, it's enough to finally break you from this nightmare and you follow the voice's instructions ... waking into a situation only slightly less nightmarish!
“Wake up, damn it!” the man on the table screams, his panic cutting through the claustrophobic near-darkness.
Bars separate you from the stranger, a struggling human with split lips and skin covered in a mapwork of fresh red lines. Heavy ropes lash the man to a splintery worktable. Another figure, unsettlingly thin and wearing a blood-smeared doctor’s coat, circles the table, casually stopping every so often to scrutinize one of the man’s wounds or select a different object from a sideboard of shiny blades. Currently, she spins one blade of a broken pair of pruning shears, which glints in the dull light of the lamp suspended overhead. With careless cruelty, the doctor draws the blade across the bound man’s bare thigh, releasing a tortured wail.
The smaller table next to the one upon which the man is bound displays an array of sharp instruments: a gardening trowel, forks, several long pieces of broken glass or metal, and the other blade of the tormentor’s shears.
None of you recognize the man screaming on the table ... nor you realize do you recognize the woman cutting him or anyone in the cells you're locked in. Worse, you realize you're not even sure who you are, even your names a mystery. Other than the horrid nightmare from which you've seemingly awoken -- into one that may be just as bad -- you in fact remember almost nothing .
While the half-orc finds himself alone in a cell -- its bars secured with a heavy lock -- the giant of a man and nervous, pudgy man share a cell, as do the gnome girl and whip-thin man. Each of you is wearing only plain linen pants and tunic, a dull, indeterminate gray that may once have been another color before it underwent too many careless washings.
You notice a ring of keys dangling from a hook at the doctor’s waist.
vs DC 10
vs DC 10
vs DC 10
vs DC 12
Kyffin fully awakens and walks to the cell door looking out on the macabre scene. He sees the other prisoners, peopled in his own fevered dreams, and shakes his head to clear it - immediately wishing he hadn’t. He waits another moment for his head to clear.
He wonders how long he’s been here. What his name is. Anything useful. If this is a prison, or hospital, there might be a file somewhere. Bureaucrats are everywhere.
He knows the chances are low that he’ll ever see such a file, even if it exists. He examines the door, and the cage itself, for weakness.
Perception
* * *
Tristain jumps as the man on the table screams at him, his hands going to protect his head as if the man's screams were coming to get him. When no blows fall, nor anyone touches him, he looks up again at the grisly scene, finally taking it in.
His chest heaves as his mind tries to figure out how he got into this situation. His eyes go to each of those he saw in the dream...and now in real life?
"What? Who are you people?" Tristain asks when he finally finds his voice, repeating the questions from his dream. At the same time, he struggles to answer that same question of himself.
Perception
Belzoni gestures at the table of cutting implements and a fork lifts into the air and zips to his outstretched hand. He quickly moves to the cage door and starts probing at the lock with his improvised pick.
"You, lad" he quizzes at the pudgy man sharing his cell, "What is this place, did you see who brought me here?"
Heinrich comes to with a gasp, his hand touching the spot where the razor cut so cleanly. He stares at the gnome and the others in the other cage, and shakes his head. "I am... I'm not. I don't KNOW!" he howls.
He shakes violently, trying to calm himself. "What is this place? Why am I here? Who are you? Who am I?" He notices the tall man making odd, arcane gestures.
"You do magic. You make magic. I know of magic. Why do I know of magic?"
"You, lad" he quizzes at the pudgy man sharing his cell, "What is this place, did you see who brought me here?"
Tristain stares up in horror at the half-ogre speaking to him, pulling back against the wall with his eyes full of fright.
"I don't know anything! Nothing! I can't remember! Don't eat me!" Tristain squeezes his eyes shut as if trying make Belzoni disappear...and then Tristain disappears! He blinks out of sight...
...and is seen 6 seconds later crawling into the corner of the room to get away from Belzoni.
"Fascinating..." Heinrich suddenly seems calm as he watches the lunatic disappear and appear again!
Tenebrynn's already wide eyes go even wider as she comes to within a cell as a tall, skinny man bellows through the bars of the door. "What? What happened? Why are you yelling? Am I dead?" She touches a hand to her forehead, feeling for a fever. "No, not dead. Awake. Who else is shouting?" Her attention then is drawn to the center of the room and the torture currently underway. "Oh! Hey! Why is that lady cutting that man? Looks bad. Not a doctor. 'Do no harm.' Are we stuck?" Hoping up and looking through the bars beside the skinny man, she gets a clear look at the woman with the grisly shears. The slight gnome whistles at the magic-man and gestures to the not-a-doctor's hip.
The apparent not-doctor doesn't seem to notice the fork float toward the big man, nor does he pay attention to the brief exchange the two have.
As whip-thin man howls, though, she suddenly seems to realize you're there. She spins toward him for a moment, and demands, “Pipe down. You’ll have your turn soon enough.”
Just as abruptly, she spins back toward her patient, circling the table and looking closely, aborting several starts toward him with the sharp blade.
That's not right. Time to get out of here and help that poor soul if I can, and avoid being next!
Finding nothing in the cell to help him, Kyffin tries brute force on the cell door to see how tough it is.
Sadly, he can find no purchase, and manages nothing of any substance. He rattles the door one more time and hopes he can overpower the guards should they come to strap him down.
He wonders at the lack of memory in the whole group and assumes they've been drugged. Perhaps he knows these folks. Can he trust them?
While she waits for the fork-floater to get the hint and snag the keys, Tenebrynn tugs on the pant leg of the man next to her. "Hi. Don't know you, but saw you before, didn't I? Before that thing with the bandages killed me. Or didn't. It's all fuzzy. I'm... well, I'm me and I think we should help that man on the table." Her words are a rapid-fire tumble, each statement or question riding immediately on the heels of the one prior. Her big, carnelian eyes stare up at Heirich and she jerks her thumb to the side, indicating the woman and the man tied down before her, as if the figure in need of help that she'd referred to wasn't clear. "Want me to get her attention? Will probably hurt. Her, not us. Make her angry though, then she'll probably try to hurt us. Might need to open door to do that though. Worth a shot?"
The thin man listens to the gnome-girl and nods. "Yes. Yes, I believe helping him is helping ourselves. This woman, she is not friendly to us, I think?" Heinrich moves over to the door and seeing the half-orc try to break open the door, he tries himself.
Failing that, he looks for a weapon, something to throw. He remembers throwing and that he's good at it.
The gnome nods, stepping back. "Ok." She waits a few moments to see if the man in the other cell will try to lift the keys from the not-a-doctor's belt, then she nods again. She spins around, her raised foot snapping around at the end of the twirl, and a swirling mass of buffeting wind and dust kicks up in front of her, darts through the bars, skips once off the ground, then slams into the side of the woman's head. Tenebrynn waves, "Don't want to wait. Want my turn now. What does direction of pipes have to do with anything?"
HP: 12/12
Nonlethal:
AC: 13 (13 T / 10 FF)
Fort: +5 // Ref: +5 // Will: +1 (+2 vs illusion)
Burn Accrued: 0/6
SLAs: dancing lights [ ], ghost sound [ ], prestidigitation [ ], speak with animals [ ]
Ongoing Effects:
Warden of Nature: +1 to hit/+2 dodge bonus vs aberrations, oozes, vermin
Foe of the Strange: +1 to saves vs aberrations, -10 to confusion results
Point Blank Shot: +1/+1
Belzoni barely glances away from his task, but it's enough to catch the piercing stare of the little woman and her gesture. He swings a quick look at the sadistic doctor to see what's caught her attention.
Spying the keychain, he gestures again as he tries to snatch them from the jailor's belt.
Tristain stops crawling way, spinning with his back to the wall now that the mad, fork-waving, half-giant has turned his attentions elsewhere.
What is going on here? Where am I?!
Tristrain breathes deep and tries to adjust to his current surroundings, wondering who these other people are and how long they have been there.
The not-doctor lets out a howl of rage as the gnome girl's blast of air hits her.
"You don't want to wait?" she snarls as she turns back toward her. "FINE!"
As she screams the last word, her face transforms momentarily, looking just like the girl's, and she raises her improvised scalpel high.
"Nonononono---" the man on the table yells as he realizes what she plans, his cries cutting off as the blade descends deep into the socket of his eye. You can all hear the thud as it hits the table below.
The man immediately ceases almost all movement, his left foot still twitching, toward the gnome girl as if in some silent accusation.
Tenebrynn's eyes bounce back and forth between the now very dead man and the woman a few times before settling on the woman. "Definitely not a doctor." She snaps around again, sending another buffeting sphere zipping toward the horrible lady with the keys.
Tristain, still coming to grips with his situation, keeps quiet as the gnome unleashes gnomic hell on the non-doctor. He decides he doesn't want to share that fate and keeps quiet, hoping that somehow his situation will improve.
He tries to think through what he's seen and what he knows. In going through this process, he realizes he doesn't know much. He doesn't remember *himself* which is a problem.
That's actually a huge problem. Who am I? How can I know them if I don't know myself?
Tristain continues his 'logical' thoughts and avoid notice by the rest.
If they don't know who they are either, are they really who they say they are? Can I say who I am if I'm not sure who I am?
Does it matter that I don't know where I am when I don't remember *any* place? Much less any reference point?
Let's assume that this corner here, this corner of safety is the start. This is the start. And I am the man in the corner. Now I know two things. I am in the corner that is the beginning...and all else is in reference to that.
Who am I? I am the man in the starting corner.
Where am I? I am in the starting corner because it exists.
Who are they? They are in the room with the starting corner, with me.
Tristain begins to relax as he begins to establish points of reference.
The second blast of air hits the not-doctor full on, and she staggers back, crumpling to the ground in front of the cage holding the near-giant and pudgy man. As she does so, her features again seem to melt, leaving in her place a grayish humanoid creature that seems almost unfinished, with a narrow head, gaunt limbs, and a sinister, noseless face.
From the dim recesses of your memory, you somehow drag up the realization that she was actually a doppelganger, a strange being that can take on the shapes of those they encounter...
Heinrich stares at the melty-woman, suddenly sure he should know what that means, but sadly lacking.
"Nice shot there little one. Nice shot."
Seeing there's no one to stop him now, he tries again to get through the cage. Yet unaided, he expects failure.
Alas, he continues to have little success. He wonders what the others will do as he measures himself and prepares for a long assault.
Tenebrynn shrugs at the half-orc's praise. "Didn't hit her hard enough for her face to melt. Did I?" She shrugs again. "Melty-face had keys. On her belt. Its belt? The belt." She turns her attention to the pair nearest the collapsed torturer. "Can you reach the melty-not-a-doctor? More specifically, the belt?"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Tristain, his mind forming yet more stabilizing points of knowledge, stand and looks about.
I am the man in the starting corner.
That is the bigger man in the starting corner. Tristain says, thinking about Belzoni.
He finally begins to wrap his head around the bars, the cells,...and that he's in a prison of sorts.
Ah! I am the main in a cell that has the starting corner.
Or, alternately, the starting corner is in a cell.
I am in a cell for a reason that I do not know. The big man is also in my cell.
Tristain gathers a bit more confidence, enough confidence to look across at the others.
Those people out there are also in cells near the cell with the starting corner that I stand in.
That gnome did something to the not-doctor ourside the cell with the starting corner.
Spellcraft/Arcana to know what it was
Tristain looks down at the not-doctor who lies outside the cell with the starting corner.
Know (nature]
"That is a doppleganger, I think, who lies outside the cell with the starting corner," Tristain says aloud, with tones of surprise in his voice...but he knows what he knows and he knows that.
Tristain's eyes go to the unattended keys on the ground next to the doppleganger outside the cell with the starting corner.
Tristain wills Mage Hand, drawing the keys to himself. Tristain will offer the keys to Belzoni in hopes that the big man with the fork will not eat him.
The keys fly to the pudgy man's hands.
The pudgy man is correct; the keys are not unattended.
Belzoni twists the fork in the lock, bends the tines slightly, then twists again.
Clearly the giant man is better at feeding himself with the utensil than using it for delicate work. "Cursed thing, spring damn you!" As he bemoans his lack of luck a thought strikes him. Wait a minute, I'm always lucky, even when I'm unlucky, how did I do that? The pudgy man hands him the keys and Belzoni remembers, ah, that's how my luck works! Quickly he sets to opening the lock on the cage. "Good work, Pudge, here take the keys and free the others."
Once free from the cage, he turns his attention to the mad doctor.
"Yep, it's a doppleganger all right, nasty creatures." Am I a doppleganger? Belzoni worries, is that why I can't remember anything? Are the others dopplegangers as well?
"No, I am the man from the starting corner," Tristain explains, pointing to the corner. "That is who I am and that is the starting corner."
"You want me to free those who are in cells like the cell that has the starting corner? I shall, HeWhoStartedInTheCellWithTheStartingCornerToo," Tristain replies.
Tristain goes to unlock the rest of the cells.
"I am the man who comes from the starting corner, from the cell with the starting corner," Tristain introduces himself with things his knows.
After he unlocks the cells, he looks around at the area outside the cell with the starting corner.
To the left as you face your cell with the starting corner, a door stands closed.
To the right, a cold, iron furnace hunkers in the corner of the area, its four-foot-square door gaping half open. Nearby sprawls a heap of gory clothes and other dubiously flammable trash.
The gnome steps out of the cell, offering the descriptive man a thankful nod. She stands in the middle of the room, blinking absently for a moment before her gaze bounces up to the table with the tortured man. "Who was he? Who was that? Who are you? Who are any of us?" Her finger bounces with her rapidly streaming words from the dead man to the doppleganger, to the man who'd been in the cell with her, then she exchanges pointing for a helpless shrug. "If answers aren't here," she points to her head, "maybe they are elsewhere." At which point she starts to pat down the doppleganger.
Halfway through she stops suddenly and looks up at the group. "Hi. I'm... well, me. Pretty sure that's true. Hi either way." She shrugs and returns to finishing her search of the dead, melty not-a-doctor.
Other than the uniform and the improvised blade, the not-doctor has nothing on her.
You do notice several sacks by the door, though, as you look around.
"Who was he?"
"That is the man who died outside the cell with the starting corner," Tristain answers calmly because he knows things. He's getting the hang of things now that he has a frame of reference.
"Who was that?"
"That is the doppleganger that killed the man who died outside the cell with the starting corner who was then killed by the gnome in the cell near the cell with the starting corner," Tristain answers calmly again..
"Who are you?"
"I just introduced myself. I am the man who from the starting corner," Tristain answers again.
"Who are any of us?"
"We are people in the line of cells of which one is the cell with the starting corner. It's all very simple if you think about it." Tristain answers calmly, getting more of his bearings and waiting for more information upon which to build his reality.
Tristain ponders then tries to help more.
"You are the gnome that was in the cell near the cell with the starting corner," Tristain explains the gnome's new name and identity to the gnome. "See? You are now relative to that point there. Everything is fine. Just fine."