Tristain looks at the rat-speaker.
"Well...I suppose if you can answer some questions and not hurt any more people, we might let you live. Can you answer some questions?" Tristain pauses from his killing spree.
"Where are we? Does this place exist and do you have proof of that? If not, can you point the creator and/or creating entities?" Tristain pauses there having gotten the initial and important questions asked.
Kyffin/Walter also stays his blade, and while he isn't sure if Tristain's questions are likely to be answered with any veracity it'll get the creature talking and that's good enough for him.
He wipes the blood off his blade carefully and sees to the wounded in the party.
When he's done, he stands at the back and watches for others who may have become interested in the sound of combat.
Tenebrynn rubs her shoulder angrily, her large eyes glowering at the ratling atop the shelf. Ignoring Tristain, she fires her own pair of questions at their attacker as soon as the crazy head-bonker falls silent. "What is with you and your kind attacking us at every turn? Nevermind. More important matter: have you seen a little boy or not?"
"Talk fast or die messy, rat." BK growls, his hands clenching as if to wrench a rat in twain.
Weapon Equipped = Scimitar
Silver Blanch, Cold Iron Bolts = 6/10
Conditions = None
Melee: Attack: BAB +1, Str +3 Damage: Str +3
Ranged: Attack: BAB +1, Dex +1 Damage: +0 (Str +3 thrown)
Blessings (2/4) (DC 13) (Holy Strike or Powerful Healer)
Fervor (2/3) (1d6)
Spells (Caster Level 2, Concentration +4)
Once Per Day (12): Prestidigitation
Zero (12): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light, Stabilize
First (13): Divine Favor,
Kyffin tends to Tenebrynn's injuries, starting with a Blessed Cure Light Wounds made up of a converted Divine Favor.
For his own injures, he simply uses some of his Fervor.
"Yes, I can answer questions," the ratling says, "tell you all about the Tatterman! Yes, he exists, just like this place, no matter what you hear!
"We are in the Place Above, which stands on top of the ground that houses our Warrens. The earth broke and opened ways between the Place Above and the Warrens."
"Little boy? No, we have no little boys in the Warrens. We would never do that!"
"Tatterman?" Tenebrynn thinks for a moment, before shrugging, sure she didn't recall the name. "Who's that?"
HP: 19/21
Nonlethal: 1
AC: 15 (13 T / 12 FF)
Fort: +6 // Ref: +6 // Will: +1 (+2 vs illusion)
Burn Accrued: 1/6
SLAs: dancing lights [ ], ghost sound [ ], prestidigitation [ ], speak with animals [X]
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
Tristain takes a moment to consider the opinion and the new information.
"Can you describe your lair in relation to the Cell with Starting Corner? I'm pretty sure that's the only fixed point that exists," Tristain asks. "I can understand how this is the Place Above the Cell with the Starting Corner. But where are your Warrens in relation to the Cell with the Starting Corner?"
Tristain pauses, reflecting.
"So...the Tatterman created this alternate reality?"
"Oh, we are quite far from the Cell with the Starting Corner. That is a place that exists only in dreams, like the Shredman. He stalks the dreams of the Place Above; he has been here for a long, long time, and once hunted with the Briarstone Witch. He is the Final Dream, a servant" -- his voice drops to a whisper as he glances over his shoulders -- "of Hastur, the Great Old One. Once The Every-All has turned his malevolent eye upon a victim, he hounds her to her death. Oh, if you die here in your sleep, you probably didn't just die. You're really a victim of the Tatterman."
You get the sense he's talking out his ass when he mentions the Cell with the Starting Corner, but the timber of his voice changes and you think he's being sincere in the rest of his discussion.
"Briarstone Witch? Final Dream? Hastur the Old One? Sounds like bunk to me."
"Hastur?" Tenebrynn scratches her head in confusion. "Hastur." She shrugs, unfamiliar with the name or the sound of it upon her tongue. "Hast-" her words are cut off as she coughs on some dust. "This Tatterman hunts people in dreams here? What does he look like?" She asks the question, thinking of a man with a ragged cloak but little else.
Kyffin chuckles as the rat-man begins to speak, but nods when he speaks of a dream servant.
"So do you communicate with this Tatterman? How do you know he exists?" He's not sure where this line of reasoning is going, but so much is unknown to him he rides along hoping the threads will connect someday.
Sense Motive
Know (Local) - Briarstone Witch
Know (Religion) - Hastur
Know (Religion) - Great Old Ones
The words seem tantalizingly familiar, but you can't quite place them. Oddly, the mention of Hastur triggers more vivid memories. He -- or maybe It -- is some sort of ... god? ... of decadence, disorder, and nihilism. He's known for a yellow mark of some sort, through which he can subtly manipulate minds into doing his bidding. Maybe to free him from ... something?
"He looks like you, but more horrible, and dresses in yellow shreds," the ratling replies. "At least, that's how I've seen him described. I read books and hear things."
The last is said in a tone of defiance, as if he resents being questioned by Walter.
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Tristain goes to bonk his head against the wall as he thinks about things.
"Hastur...Hastur...Hastur might be a god. Of, uh...*bonk*...decadence, and uh *bonk* disorder, and nilihism. *bonk* Yeah. He might not be good. But I wonder if Hastur has created this Demi-plane or something else."
*bonk*
*bonk*
*bonk*
"Why did you attack us? We're not the ones keeping you here. Why don't you leave?"
"You got too close to the way to our Warrens," he replies.
Then he looks at you critically.
"Though I guess you wouldn't fit, now that I think about it..."
"Stupid rodent! You attack us for something even you agree we cannot do! Then you spew nonsense about tattered men and Old People. Nonsense! We should devour the thing and at least it will fill our bellies for a moment and provide some usefulness!"
Albert doesn't trust the evil little rat mage, not one bit. "How do we know you ain't a servant of the tatterman?"
"Yeah," Kyffin says dryly, "We'd appreciate it if you wouldn't attack us in the future."
"We're looking for a lost boy, and time is getting short. If you don't have him and haven't seen him, we'll bid you good day and try another direction."
He leans in, "And if we find you've lied to us, or your people attack our people, we'll find a way into your warrens. We'll dig you out and slaughter you. Mark my words."
Tenebrynn misses most of the conversation after the ratling describes the Tatterman as her thoughts swirl. Suddenly, she blurts, "He's the Cutter! The Tatterman! Tatterman is Cutter, Cutter is Tatterman! Has a name, has a purpose. Neither reassuring. Why hunt us though?"
*bonk*
*bonk*
*bonk*
Tristain bonks more trying to come up with more questions, but fails...then doesn't.
"What else can you tell us about this area above the Cell with the Starting Corner? Who else have you seen around here?"
"Oh, it's very dangerous. Crazy people walk the halls, where the rocks don't crush them," he replies. [b]"But ... that's probably just this area! If you go to other places, it's much safer. This area is too dangerous, though, for big folk to stay.
You think he's probably making this part up, trying to get you to leave the area where he's staying now, rather than having any actual knowledge of the rest of Briarstone.
"We need to find missing boy anyway. You may like to know that someone from your den is lost and nearby, though. Met her yesterday. She thinks she's cut off. If you want to look for her, we found her in the library." The gnome then provides directions from their current location to the library before turning to wander further into the ruined maze of the asylum.
Glancing back over her shoulder, she gestures for the others to follow. "Come on. Missing boy will not find himself."
"Still think we oughta crush that damned rat.." BK mumbles.
Tristain puts up his spear, ending his desire for more bloodshed...and nearly shears off Tenebrynn's topknot.
"Yeah, let's search elsewhere."
Kyffin shrugs, wondering if some of the falling rocks aren't pushed by rat-hands. Still, a truce exists, and that's a good thing.
"OK, where to next?" he says, and then he moves to the next logical door and opens it, scimitar out as usual, hoping it leads to a tired little boy, and not to new horrors...
Albert heals his wounds while glaring at the rat mage. "Dang thing should be roasted, maybe it's the one that pickled them toddlers, it looks like something that would do that."
Ratch nods at Tenebrynn's comment, squeaking out a quick thanks though he keeps a wary eye on you as you head off to explore more of the asylum.
You open the door at the end of the hall beyond the administrator's room , only to find your way again blocked: A wall of red liquid fills the hall in front of you, a strong coppery smell filling the air.
Kyffin eyes the wall, "That there looks like blood." he murmurs.
He grabs a small piece of masonry from some nearby rubble and tosses it through the wall to see what happens to it.
If nothing untoward happens, he'll try to find a board or chair or something wide like that which he can hold to divert a part of the stream so he can see through to the other side.
The stone flies into the red liquid, as if it had been dropped into a pool. Unfortunately, the experiment with the board reveals that the wall is deeper than the half-orc expected, at least as deep as he can reach.
Tristain watches Kyffin's efforts from a far, gently bonking his head into the wall.
"Maybe...maybe...it's magic."
Tristain moves only barely within 30' to cast Detect Magic and examine the wall of blood.
"In more normal realities, they don't make walls out of blood. They might use wood or stone. Here? As you can see, normal reality doesn't exist here...I think. But then again this new reality may be the only reality we'll ever know...and the Cell with the Starting Corner might be the only stable constant in his dimension."
It does not radiate magic.
"If it ain't magic, then surely it's evil." Albert moves forward next to Chalker and sniffs in the direction of the coppery red wall of liquid.
The liquid does indeed radiate faint evil.
"Well, I'm not going in there. So for the time being, this way is blocked. To hell with that!" he chortles trying to make light of something deeply disturbing.
He suggests they take a look at the door to the courtyard, though likely they won't enter it. "Just to see if the boy is playing there."
Tristain follows Kyffin to the courtyard but also doesn't enter.
"It's possible that the boy escaped this plane of existence...or never even existed here. Without speaking to the creator, we'll won't know until we know, you know?" Tristain ponders their existential existence.
"We will be quite unsure of anything until we learn the rules defining this place, I should think. Walls of Blood and that Eye? We cannot be sure what new obstacle or obstruction will be next and if they are normal or not-normal. Maybe it is my perceptions that are wrong...and I am the one who is not normal. Maybe."
Tristain looks around for a suitable wall for head bonking.
Leaving the wall of blood behind, you backtrack to the area just beyond where the eye was, and then exit through one of the remaining doors. High asylum walls hedge in the spacious courtyard garden. Only thin breaths of sickly fog seep in from overheard, though beyond it’s just as thick as ever. Misty wisps slip between leafless trees and simple benches, giving the impression of silent beasts prowling through the garden.
You hear strange noises: the flapping of wings, low growls, and rustling steps from somewhere in the fog.
[spoiler=If you got a 22 or higher on that Perception check]
The sounds seem to have no immediate source, but rather drift from a distance.
Kyffin/Walter peers into the fog. He calls out to the boy a few times, bellowing as loudly as he can.
He listens to the following silence...
As the others turn away from the garish wall of blood, Tenebrynn gathers a swirling current of air around her before throwing it forward in a sustained gust to try and part the wall or at least bore a tunnel through it.
----
Tenebrynn leans forward into the fog, straining to hear what she can't see, but she's unable to hear much over Kyffin's shouting.
Perception
Tristain recoils from the fog, hiding behind a wall.
"Don't go out there! That's the subconscious uber-ego out there! Whomever created this place has thoughts and ideas that literally growling and flapping about! Don't go out there! Can you not hear them?"
Tristain bonks his head, hoping the others heed his warning that the edges of this plane are even less defined than the center.
There is no response to Walter's cries.
Turning his back on the fearful fog, Kyffin heads next to the visitors room door to see if the other garden is any friendlier, assuming the group agrees.
"I'm not going out there, not until I have to." he mumbles glad he cannot hear what surely must be nightmare inducing noises.
He has his doubts as he marches through the complex, scimitar at the ready.
He opens the door when the others are prepared, wondering what toll all this adrenaline is taking on his system. He can't even count on sleeping well this night.
Tenebrynn recalls with frightful clarity all she saw lurking in the fog last time she ventured into it. As the others turn away, she steps forward, to the edge of the swirling yellow wisps.
With a grunt, she calls the wind around herself again before throwing it forward across the courtyard, hoping to clear a corridor of unspoilt air.
"What is that growling?" Bloody Knuckles grouses.
"What is that growling?"
"I already told you," Tristain whispers back, trying not to be seen. "I think it's the unfinished thoughts of angst and anger from the mind of the creator of this demiplane."
"Or it could be the sounds of creation...as more parts of this reality are being built, those growls are the workmen...or...or...the sound of the this reality straining to exist."
"Can anyone with sense tell me what the growling is?" BK clarifies.
Tristain continues to try to help.
"Oh! OH! OH! It could also be the sounds of the beasts that unmake creation," Tristain opines, his mind trying to sort out all the possibilities. "The sounds you hear might be the monsters that gobble existence after time has passed!"
From Tenebrynn's quick glance, it appears the courtyard is longer than 60 feet, though she does glimpse some trees through the swirling fog.
As the fog swirls apart and the shapes of trees are revealed, Tenebrynn looks back over her shoulder and shrugs. "Looks like other side is further off, but I haven't heard any growling. Will be careful though." She then turns and starts walking toward the distant edge of the courtyard, trying to stay along the course her gust had uncovered.
Tenebrynn moves into the swirling fog toward the far side of the courtyard when suddenly a lanky ebon humanoid with batlike wings, horns, and a long prehensile tail, but no face comes swooping out of the mist and sinks its chill claws into her. She feels them latch on painfully, digging into her shoulder.
From near the door, you hear her cry of pain and surprise.