S shakes her head. "My investigation was largely a success, and I was able to press through and reconnoitre much important tactical data. I discovered the relocation of the key, that the address of its whereabouts is kept in a vault, and the location of the vault."
"I tried many times to witness the opening of the vault, but it was as if from that point on the sorcerers anticipated my interest and were very secretive. They guarded the information about how exactly the mechanism works."
"I am skilled in bardic magic. But honestly, at this point, I'm out of my league."
During this window, you see an image of Reeva Windermere enter the room. On her back is a heavy black cloak with a hood thrown back. She walks directly to the fireplace, reaches out and tilts one of the urns on the mantle towards her. At that point, she wraps the cloak tightly around her, throws up the hood, and continues on passing into the fireplace.
You understand that the cloak is symbolic.
The mental link ends.
Everyone else sees concentric circles of pale violet energy radiate from Caromarc to Blackacre, forming a field between them. It lasts for a moment, then is gone.
"The initials may well be those of Reeva Windermere, which does seem odd."
Ianez stands ready to assist Sandru.
"Blackacre - did you see the cloak?"
Did we see which urn?
She died three times? I think she died three times.
S watches intently as your party inspects the fireplace. She looks back over her shoulder at Quinn and Hareton guarding the door.
"Hurry!" she urges. "The sorcerers will be back soon."
Damn "jumper". Now or never Caromarc... I can't tell what's real or imagined anymore. I need to get out of here.
"I see no traps. If this ward stops the living, then perhaps your mechanical manservant may enter freely, Caromarc."
"Tilt that one towards us" Caromarc instructs the manservant, pointing.
The berobed manservant does as he is bid
Several breathless moments pass by...
Nothing happens.
With a sigh Caromarc - assuming thaumic signatures might be involved - also tilts the urn.
The fireplace flares in conflagration, then recedes back to a central point, as if all the air was sucked from the room. The hearth is no longer there. Where it once stood is now the door to the vault.
Caromarc tilts the urn. Black necrotic energy slides forth and absorbs into his hand. His skin drains of color like parchment...becomes ghastly white. Veins bulge and throb and stand out purple-black against his skin. The necrosis travels up his arm, into his torso, and shoots up and down his body. He stiffens...spasms...arches his back. His jaw firmly sets in a grimace of pain.
The wizard's eyes roll back into his head. He drops to the plush red carpet before the hearth.
The fireplace continues to crackle before him, warm and inviting.
The urn falls from the mantle and rolls beside his body...
What? No, think about it later. Nethys knows how long I have! Get it done!
Caromarc's spirit advances through the fire.
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You open the door to the vault and pass through it. It closes behind you. You find yourself in the same lounge as before, but now your surroundings are a dark afterlife of billowing shadows. Everything is still black and white.
Reeva Windermere is just beyond the room in the hallway. She stands motionless looking at you. She is colorless, shades of gray, except for a shock of bright orange hair. Her eyes, no longer green, are completely black...like ink has drained into the whites, making her appearance look alien, insect. In her hands, she clutches an orb that emanates with a pink glow. The light casts up against Reeva's features. The effect adds to her ghoulishness.
It is suddenly clear to you what's been going on. The sorcerers' vault exists in the afterlife. Reeva may have created the vault...she accesses it by killing and resurrecting herself. It is this journey back and forth across the threshold of death that requires her to fortify her physical constitution at the expense of her sanity.
Between you and Reeva stands a small army of halflings with bruises around their eyes, all bathed in blood. They have ashen skin...angry eyes...little, limp hands...torn clothes. They look at you. Their childlike mouths twitch with hate.
They gather in a circle and shamble towards you.
They reach out their little arms to you.
Horrified by what he sees, Caromarc is jolted out of immobility as the halflings approach.
try to get back? Or push forwards?
Forwards. The others will call me back, or come themselves.
Caromarc runs for the edge of the crowd
I move to Caromarc, laying hands upon his face.
"Sir?"
Quinn, the ever disciplined soldier, continues to stay on guard duty saying in a low whisper that Dr. Hareton and agent 'S' can hear "Patience is the companion of wisdom."
On occassion, the monk turns his head to get a quick glimpse of what the others are doing.
Perception Check:
A pale glow appears at Sandru's palm, floats the length of Caromarc's body like a little ghost taking diagnostics, then absorbs back into Sandru's hand. The necrotic effect ebbs a little. It redoubles and wracks him once more. He grimaces, and through clenched teeth cries out Wrrrrthhhh! Again his veins bulge with death energy.
This begins a tug-of-war, where Sandru's ability forces the necrosis to retreat, and it fights back, only to be forced back again, only to return in more virulent form.
Hareton looks on with a pained expression as the warrior helps Caromarc. "It pains me to see this suffering," he whispers to Quinn and S. "But like you, agent S, I don't know what to make of the magic at work here."
Is it curse?
The monk then reverts his attention back to the enterance feeling grateful that a simple conversation can take his mind off of the monotony.
Gaston... I reach inside my pack, the curse removing infusion. I don't know what else to do. I pop the cover off, raising the serum preparing to stab Caromarc.
I hate this place!
"Gods, what happened to him?" Ianez reaches into his pack and produces a vial of holy water to splash over the stricken wizard.
I am becoming upset. Black smoke reached out and went... into him. I tried to fight it myself... But it is too strong. This infusion removes curses. Do it?
The innocent brute kneeling at his side, and Caromarc's manservant and familiar, do not pick up the sounds that start to needle at the sanity of the others.
Round 1 (surprise):
The whispers trigger a memory in the archaeologist's mind. "Haunts...the hungry dead return!" He pours the contents of the holy water vial in his hand onto the urn.
Water splashes the urn and runs down its sides. Osseous powder mastered by the scholar of bones.
There is a reaction like the hissing of steam.
Reeva blinks her bug eyes and twitches, looking at you.
All of a sudden, Caromarc's throes subside. The veins continue to stand out black against his skin, but the necrosis has stabilized. His brow is wet with perspiration, and his breathing is shallow in an uneasy rest.
Quinn begins to wave his arms towards agent S and his companions. He points to his ears and then thumbs towards the hallway indicating that someone approaches. He motions towards agent S to come closer.
The monk then moves next to Dr. Hareton and whispers, "Good doctor,....get ready to make your move." Quinn then tries to discern the general direction of the footsteps.