I do not know much about vampires... but just to be safe.
Seiharu will attempt to behead the corpse of VonTeado, if possible, but his vows will prevent him from picking up the head or otherwise touching the creature.
Kyson rolls his eyes at Kuri's reluctance to touch Hull's head.
These are the same vows that prevented him from taking his just, earned, and offered reward from the Flower Princess, Daisy Buttercup, after her rescue from the Bee People.
Kyson just shakes his head.
"I'll be there soon enough, friend Kuri."
I wish I had some time with Princess Buttercup...but I was being saved by Marcelio...
The gnome turns away from his piloting and sneers at you. "You can kill me, human, but then your friends shall plummet to their death!"
Kyson flies out to follow the gaseous form. Casting Daylight on himself to help follow the mist.
"Marcelio, come with me. Kazmuk, Kuri: get this ship landed."
Kyson files outside the ship, trying to follow the gas.
Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down...keep your eyes on the mist...keep your eyes on the mist...
As Seiharu's sword comes descending upon the apparently dead VonTeado's neck, it meets nothing but air and the ship's floor, as wispy clouds seep out the holes left by the acid.
"What is this!? Where has he gone?"
Growling like molten iron in the Hall of Forges, Kaz watches as the vampire flees again. Oh to be able to fly like his friends. Alas, it is not to bee, err, be...
"если вы чувствуете, как танцы, танцы!"
Brightly lit celestial symbols no longer cloud his head, it is the black iron tongue of the Terrans that keeps his secrets now. Still, the idea is clear, though, as he turns, hammer in hand, to face the gnome behind him.
intimidate on the closest:
Kuri walks to the front of the ship by the pilot and opens the trap door. He grabs one of the nearby parachutes and tosses it out, watching it fall for a while before turning to the pilot.
"It will not be us who perish, gnome, we simply dislike having to travel all that distance by ourselves unnecessarily... How fast can you flap your arms?"
Bluff:
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Following Kyson's lead, Marcelio pursues the cloud of mist, but doesn't leave the ship until he is sure the mist cloud has left it as well.
Not again, a year from now Kyson will tell the tale of the time I 'rescued' him from the beautiful gnome maiden society and their flying brothel.
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Kyson: Just not sure what the point of the gnomes is
Kyson: and why they just don't seem to care about anything or do anything
Kyson: Why did the acid start to spill?
Kyson: and why is there acid on the ship?
Kazmuk: I don't know. I wondered if we were supposed to care about them, if they were dominated or some such. Oh, the acid spilled because of the movement of the ship.
Kyson: Why didn't Gnome OSHA regulate the containers?
Kazmuk: I don't know why it's on the ship though. It did create a nice little trap. Well, I bet technically GOSHA has regulations, but did the vamp look like the type to toe the line?
Kyson: Why is the ship lurching?
Kyson: Why is it unstable?
Kyson: Too much weight?
Kyson: If it's a known instability, then why aren't the acid containers sealed?
Kazmuk: It's unstable because it's in such poor condition? Or are the gnomes even licensed for this sort of shipping?
Kyson: I guess I need more ranks in profession (Ustalav transportation law) to know the answer to that
Kyson: not sure what sort of country regulations aren't being followed....
Kyson: but maybe that's the *real* reason why we're here
Kazmuk: That could be it! There's a coup going on in the transportation department!
Kyson: Exactly!
Kyson: It wasn't about women being murdered: it was anti-union and transportation safety regulation
Kyson: I'm glad we were able to figure this out
Kazmuk: *whew* We've been going about this all wrong! We need to free the gnomes from their oppressive overseer! *Where's the mist now?* Oooh, maybe we already have.. did we win Pathfinder?
The gnome seems cowed by Seiharu and Kazmuk's threat, as the disintegrating ship begins to bank and turn back to the chalet...
The vampire appears to have left the ship.
THE NEXT ENCOUNTER
Five hundred miles due west of the Sodden Lands, midway between Mediogalti Island and the northwestern edge of the Shackles, and only 100 miles from the western edge of the Eye of Abendego stands a labyrinthine forest of two dozen or so colossal stone columns known as the Gloomspires. Named for the strange wind-resistant mists that frequently enshroud them, the perfectly square columns each stand 2,000 feet tall, 500 feet around, and are spaced exactly 100 feet apart. The columns are fashioned from titanic stone blocks stacked atop one another, yet who created them remains a mystery for they were already old when the empire of Ghol-Gan was young and look nothing like the ruins of the ancient cyclopes found throughout the region. The Gloomspires radiate an unmistakable aura of unease and wrongness, and visitors report a disturbing inability to accurately count the columns since many of them inexplicably vanish, re-appear, or shift in position when they are not being directly observed.
Surrounded by coral reefs and water constantly roiled by the Eye of Abendego, no vessel larger than a jolly-boat can safely approach within two miles of the Gloomspires. The columns are riddled with ancient chambers and passageways, cleverly hidden behind secret doors and illusion-veiled cave openings. Those few who have dared to enter the columns and returned have come away with tales of encountering fearsome monsters, horrific undead and devious traps. These chambers were created by the columns’ inscrutable builders for unknown purposes. However, since the time of Ghol-Gan, many of them have been claimed and re-purposed by more recent visitors. One such site is the column in which the notorious pirate Sempet Eightfingers built his tomb.
Sempet Eightfingers was a pirate captain and powerful wizard who terrorized the sea lanes from Varisia to Sargava nearly 300 years ago. Unwilling to allow his ill-gotten wealth to fall into another’s hands, Sempet constructed a tomb inside one of the ancient Gloomspire columns and filled it with traps and monstrous guardians. When his tomb was finished he sealed himself inside and was never seen again. Centuries later, Old Eightfingers is regarded as a sort of boogeyman among the pirates of the Shackles. Pirate legends claim that vast riches undoubtedly lay unclaimed in Eightfinger’s Tomb, though these same pirates are usually quick to add that Old Eightfingers probably still watches over his treasure as a vengeful lich, blood-drinking ghost, or worse horror.
Having fought your way through the Hall of the Flesh-Eaters and the Labyrinth of Hungry Ghosts, you've descended through the Oblivion Shaft. A trap door sits in the stone floor you're standing on.
Seiharu scrutinizes his sword disdainfully for any leftover traces of ectoplasmic goo.
"Undead again. I should have brought wooden stakes, or holy water... or something."
He looks up as Kyson painstakingly descends the unknotted rope he had so thoughtfully laid along the wall of the 700 ft. shaft.
What is taking him so long? I've been telling him to get in better shape ever since he got stuck jumping out the window of that powerful Osirion merchant's palace.
Seiharu shakes his head and turns his attention to the trap door to check to see if it's... well, trapped.
Perception:
Trusty Seiharu, glad we have his skills for this tomb crawl, the whole place just feels wrong. And why do they call this Eightfingers tomb, clearly it's opposable digit discrimination, but it does sound more sinister than Twothumbs temple.
Keeping one hand on the end of rope, Marcelio surveys the bottom of the Oblivion Shaft and the trapdoor drawing upon his knowledge of dungeoneering.
Knowledge (Dungeoneering):
It appears to be an iron trapdoor in a stone floor.
"What do you detect Seiharu? Is the trapdoor safe, should I open it?
Kyson huffs and puffs his way down the stupid %^#*€~! rope, his hands raw and scraped, his few muscles afire.
*thud*
Kyson drops the last few feet down the rope with a clatter his feet failing to catch his weight as he hits the floor painfully.
Looking at his brave companions, Kyson frowns in his embarrassment...his annoyance overcoming his usual mood. "I hate this place. I hate undead."
"At least the undead here are preferable to those we faced in the Hive on Pollen Island..." Kyson looks at Marcelio's and Kuri, "...remember them zomBEES?"
Kyson shudders at the thought and remembers that Kazmuk is still climbing the rope and crawls to get out of the way.
Kyson picks himself up, dusts himself off, and re-casts Light.
"Trapdoor, eh?" Kyson says, seeing the portal for the first time.
Perception for traps
Seiharu shudders imperceptibly at the memory of the zombees. One thing that Kyson and he have in common is their mutual dislike of giant, rotting insects. A little niche for a mutual disinterest, but there you go.
"I see nothing unusual about the door, Marcelio. Perhaps Kyson will find otherwise."
You find no traps on the apparently poorly named trapdoor.
Kyson finishes examining the trapdoor (still not sure what he sees) and rubs his backside where he fell.
He looks up as he waits for Kazmuk to descend the rope.
"Ugh. I hate ropes and I hate climbing...life was never about ropes back in the monastery. Thankfully, we have our flying dragon brothel that was able to give us a lift to the top of this 'Gloomspire', eh?"
I really hope our gnomes don't fly away with it.
Eventually poor Kyson scrambles out from beneath him and Kaz is able to join his companions, sticking the landing easily, though the clank of it echoes in the small space.
Oh gods, not zombies too?
Not surprising in a place like this. Magic weapon already cast on his weapon, Kaz readies another in his mind, should the shambling corpses come for them. ((prepares to cast sun metal on his warhammer, should battle begin. ))
It did save us some time, Kyson, but perhaps we should find another crew when this is over? talented or not, their little hands are just...unnatural.
With the party gathered, Marcelio moves to the trapdoor and readies to open it.
Stand back good friends and be ready. We know not what lurks below, but zomBees may buzz forth the moment this door opens.
With his trident in one hand, Marcelio attempts to pull the trap door open.
Kyson looks at Kuri and shrugs, nodding his head towards the trapdoor.
"Seems safe to me, Kuri. I'll be over here while you open it." Kyson backs up, assuming his usual position away from threats and exploding doors.
Kyson smiles with happy remembrance of the changes he and his friends had made to make working on the Dragon Noir Brothel more safe: potions of feather fall by every exit, acid now stored in unbreakable glasssteeled glass, and the now-unionized workers given full incorporation under Ustalavian labor law.
We made a change for the better in that, we did! I bet my Sarenraen superiors will be thrilled at my work with the DNB.
The heavy iron trap door groans loudly as it’s opened, revealing a large dark chamber many feet below. The smell of old sea water is strong here, mingled with an earthy odor reminiscent of a marsh. A sturdy-looking ladder made of chain links is bolted to the wall just below the trap door. The chain ladder descends into the chamber below, and jangles softly as a draft of wind from the shaft above whispers past you and through the open trap door. Aside from this brief gust of air, the chamber below is silent and still.
As the loud groan of the trapdoor and the jangling of the chain ladder announce our presence, Marcelio forgoes any element of surprise and drops a sunrod into the chamber to illuminate the room below.
The chamber floor, about 50 feet below, is covered in a thick layer of briny mud. A 20-foot square landing in the center of the chamber stands about five feet above the muddy floor. The entire landing is covered with a thick carpet of glistening green mold. To the west are two more raised landings, one on the north wall and another on the south wall. Stairs lead to the top of both of these landings, which are 10 feet above the muddy floor. At the top of each landing is a pair of heavy, brass-bound oak double doors. To the east is another 10-foot high landing. Set in the center of the east wall, this landing has a pair of stone stairs leading up to it, one set to the north and one to the south. The landing itself is 10-foot square and dominated by a large throne carved from a single block of white marble. Sitting on the throne is a hunched humanoid figure covered from head to foot with grimy strips of damp linen that weep tiny rivulets of mud and watery filth. In front of the throne lies a heap of gold and silver coins, gleaming gemstones, and sparkling jewels.
Uugg, what is that, linen wrapped dead that weeps mud and brine? Marcelio looks to his companions for any explanation to clear his confusion. Let's not give up our tactical advantage and high ground until we know better what that thing may be.
ZomBees don't seem so bad at this point, at least on Pollen Island we were out in the fresh air. That whole Flower People Power movement was a waste of energy though.
Uggh is right. Whatever it is, maybe a little distance is in order.
Much as Kaz appreciates his one true melee weapon, it occurs to him that reach wouldn't be out of place. Harnessing his hammer, he can't help but regret the loss of two spells to change weapons.
- move action: putting away the warhammer.
- standard action: calling forth a masterwork cold iron glaive made all of metal per the iron weapon revelation.
Kyson looks at the weapons appearing of in and out of the hands of Kazmuk.
Showoff.
"Mold, eh? What is that wrapped guy? Another vampire?" Kyson takes a gander down the hole.
Knowledge (Religion)
Kyson looks for a way down.
"Anyone got another rope?" Kyson wonders if he'll need to survive a long drop.
Kyson pulls put an alchemist fire and offers it around. "Someone want to burn that mold or that man?"
Why are we here again? Why did we leave the small handed creature comforts of the DNB?
Burn both suggests Marcelio, neither mold nor undead are something I wish to touch.
Producing a rope and grappling hook from his pack, Marcelio secures the hook to the trapdoor, but leaves the rope coiled above for the moment.
The mold we can address before the climb down, some flasks of oil and a tindertwig should help, but the wrapped weeping muddy thing still has me concerned.
Taking the offered flask of Alchemist Fire, Marcelio ties the rope to himself for a 5 ft. drop only and climbs 5 feet down on the chain ladder, then heaves the Alchemist Fire at the linen wrapped corpse.
Thrown Splash Attack (+10, -8 for range):
Seiharu gives a heavy sigh.
I cannot willingly touch such filth, lest I break my vows. Let us tread lightly.
Seiharu takes out his bow and climbs down the ladder about 10 ft. He nocks a slow burn arrow and releases it at the same time that Marcelio throws the alchemists' fire.
Attack:
Damage:
(The arrow will do 1d6 fire damage next round.)
Catching that admonishing look from Kyson, Kaz drops his eyes, abashed. Tis only the gods' will that graces him such, not a single bit of his own doing, save a distaste to have to touch any of the weeping muck that awaits in the near future.
No rope, I'm ничего страшного, но сам страх. но мальчик, что один большой
His voice goes guttural, closing up on him. The gifts of the gods will be paid for one way or another.
Holding the Glaive in one hand, he reaches into his bag and pulls out the vial to offer to Kyson, should he want it.
The alchemist's fire splashes directly onto what Kyson believes is a bog mummy, a type of undead that is actually resistant to fire and much more vulnerable to cold.
"Wait! It's a bog mummy!" Kyson says as he moves to catch Marcelio's hand before it releases the flask.
"I didn't see it at first, but now it's obvious: that creature resists fire and most of my magicks."
Kyson begins to regret his decision to worship Sarenrae and not the YetiGod of the Ice Planet Hoth.
I bet a nice hoary iceball spell would hurt that thing good.
"What should we do?" Kyson asks looking from face to face, unwilling to go down first.
Marcelio reaches for the flask, but Kyson pulls it back, "Wait a minute, that's a bog mummy and resistant to fire.", he tells Marcelio.
Thinking on the situation for a moment, Marcelio quickly forms a new plan. Look friends, if the trials of Pollen Island taught us anything it's that we're better off attacking from 50 feet in the air and making our foes find a way to get to us. Help me pull up this chain ladder, then we'll plunk away at that mummy until it's really weeping.
A bog Mummy? Maybe a *lot* of distance is in order.
Thankful for the wisdom of his companions, Kazmuk drops the glaive at his feet, pulling out the curved stick.
- free action: drop the glaive
- move/]standard action: cast magic weapon on his ammunition using the wand.
edit:
The ladder appears to be bolted to the floor below.
Kyson nods and prepares to help his companions.
"This is a good plan. Nothing can possibly go wrong," Kyson says as he reaches for his spellpouch and holy symbol.
Kyson casts Bless.
I like this plan. I'm way up here, the bad guy is way down there.
With that done Kyson steps back and waits as his companions enjoy target practice.
Seiharu will scurry back up the ladder.
"We may have no choice but to combat it from the same level. Allow me to prepare..."
He begins cutting up his blanket and tying makeshift moccasins around his shoes to keep them from getting muddied.
Marcelio sheepishly looks at his companions, "I seem to have left my bow back in the DNB, does anyone have a ranged weapon I can use? Also, lets pour a flask of oil on the ladder now to make it difficult for anything climbing it, we can always use a rope to get down later.
Kyson looks at Marcelio with shock.
"What happened to your bow? It's back on the DNB?..." Kyson's eyes widen as he begins to put pieces together. "OOOOHHHH..." Kyson blushes.
"Yeah, the ladies were talking about the new 'swing' that someone makeshift built...now I get it." Kyson face scrunches up wondering how the longbow was used to do...oh yeah...and the gnome feet go there...leading to a upward thrust...not unlike a flurry of blows...getting a bonus for the strength rating of the bow, times the applied lubri-...
Kyson nearly faints with the effort to figure out how Marcelio's bow might be in use now and whether he'd really want it back.
Did I mention that it is a darkwood bow?
Why in the good gods' names would Marcelio let them get their tiny little hands on his weapon? They'll likely overuse the thing and break it.
Careful, friend Kaz reaches to steady Kyson You don't want to fall into all that filth.
One hand to steady Kyson, the other shrugs off the crossbow to give to Marcelio. Here, you're likely better with it than I'll ever be. And the ammunition's good too .
Using the same grappling hook and rope and tied for a 5' drop only, Marcelio makes his way onto the chain ladder and starts shooting at the mummy with the crossbow.
Kyson nods at Kuri.
"If you want to go down, I will follow you. After Kazmuk. And Marcelio...."
...and after making sure the chains don't snap from rust, disrepair...or otherwise.