"Perhaps we should take stock and form some sort of plan of attack."
"If only we knew who and where our mastermind enemy was. They could be long gone by now. If it was the undead posing as Ser Richard, Fergus and I destroyed that abomination.
Though that Efreeti is a powerful foe still out there, I have no idea where they might be. To make an offensive plan, one needs information. Lacking that, I will bolster my defenses."
Durgan will cast Barkskin and Resist Fire on himself.
"To the third floor?"
"If we were not missing so many people, I'd say we burn the mansion down." Illthir muttered to herself. The one ray of sunshine was that it seemed Dool actually had some sort of humor, twisted as it was. Or perhaps better; he had none.
Regardless. They needed to deal with whatever that was. As far as cunning plans - she couldn't think of any. Not here and now at least.
So onwards to battle it was.
"I'm afraid I have to concur with Durgan - we know too little for a proper plan. But we will change the tune. We already do, by not being scattered and subdued, but taking initiative and trying to find what is at the core of all of this."
Alia draws her Estoc and points at the stairs:"Onward, we're going up a level - it's been too long already."
The enlarged party moves to the stairwell, where as suggested by Lord Varn the numbers begin to tell as his own men insist they they go up before him even as he insists he should be the one to lead. Longtooth blows out a breath and Kozen suggests that the it might be best if he stay behind since he would only get in the way. Sandralane keeps close to Serena, while Dool's hulking bodyguard stares down from around his great shield at Fergus, and Renault looks on from the far rail.
Finally, with an air of deep disapproval Mother Vorst says "So who is going first?"
"I will."
Durgan advances up the stairs.
"And I," Serena says without hesitation. She moves to follow Durgan.
The pair push their way through the crowd and and up the steps.
As Durgan rounds the tight spiral to the next landing he notes the baleful lich its eyes alight with ghostly flame looking down upon him. Then he notices something else, the second to last step before the landing seems to be ajar canted a little a hair's breadth back in relation to all of the others. Then he sees it, the glint of a metal mechanism definitely not part of the original stair housed beneath it. To Durgan's eye Serena seems unaware her own eyes locked on the corpse wizard above.
"Ah, at last. I wondered when you might summon the courage to confront your death." says the husk of what might once have been a man. "Come, face the consequence of your people's insult against me."
Serena's eyes narrow. "I fear no living, nor dead, abomination. You will fall before my blade."
"Serena, hold up - trap ahead."
Durgan points out the mechanism.
He will cast Fly on himself, ready to skip the trapped stair.
"Longtooth, that's your area of expertise, is it not?", Alia encourages the rogueish adventurer to follow up behind Serena and Durgan when she hears the Cleric announce the presence of traps.
Against arcane power and traps both, bunching up seemed a bad idea - for a moment she considers attempting to ran past the supposed trap using the wall, but with no way to see it from her vantage point, and with Serena potentially also in the traps area, she decides to stay put - for now.
Durgan floats up the stair, while Alia calls in Longtooth.
"Let's see what we have here... Hm. Hmm. Well that's pressure plate alright. You want me to disable it or let it slide. I would not recommend triggering it from a "safe distance," if you know what I mean."
The undead wizard doesn't seem to take much notice of party.
"You mean it'll demolish half the estate?" Illthir attempted a joke, but it felt a bit flat. Because there was probably a good chance that could *actually* happen.
"...If we can disable it, let's try." She didn't fancy having to mind her steps if they needed to leave the area. That never turned out well. Better deal with whatever fallout there was while they were somewhat safe.
"You mean it'll demolish half the estate?" Illthir attempted a joke, but it felt a bit flat. Because there was probably a good chance that could *actually* happen.
"Well, maybe, but look on the bright side. We might be in the other half." Longtooth says with a wink. With that he sets to work.
Mother Vorst sighs and prays to Pharasama for guidance for the old rogue.
And moments later there's a loud click and Longtooth smiles.
*yawn*
"So, specter, you do not wish to attack us while we deal with your little trap?
Is this your idea of being sporting, or do you think us beneath your notice?"
The ominous figure does nothing in response, not even turning to look at Durgan.
Durgan decides to ignore the illusion in return.
"To the north hallway first, then."
If only because it is closer.
"Good job, Longtooth. Glad to have you with us.", Alia acknowledges the trap deactivation as she comes closer to take a look, then nods upwards:"Let's find out what OTHER trouble awaits us up there."
Following Durgan, Alia is still alienated by the figure of Szam Tass. She extends her Estoc and attempts to cut through it, expecting an illusion.
The party as a group proceeds to guest suites reserved for Lord Varn and his entourage. While there Matheus retrieves his spare spear.
Durgan takes a look around the rooms for any sign of bloodshed or anything out of the ordinary. There could be a clue of some sort, but he doesn't know exactly what he is looking for.
If he finds nothing, he will lead the group to the south wing.
"Not the fun sort of coin toss..." Illthir grumbles when the rogue pokes at the trap. Things did seem to fall in their favour though this time. Without any large-scale demolition even! Splendid.
---
Once at the top level, she joins Alia in poking at the image (once it seems safe-ish). With something she could afford to lose, of course. "It spoke when 'revealed' and now when we approached. But it might not have spoken to us; just formed the words on cue. An illusionary understudy?" That felt vaguely better then the creature ignoring them. It also seemed like a neat trick, one she hoped to try one day. Maybe not quite in this creepy way though ...
---
"Nothing terrible so far ..."
Durgan takes a look around the rooms for any sign of bloodshed or anything out of the ordinary. There could be a clue of some sort, but he doesn't know exactly what he is looking for.
If he finds nothing, he will lead the group to the south wing.
Nothing seems amiss. Indeed Varn, Matheus and Varn's other man don't seem to notice anything.
The large group turns their attention to the southern hall and presses on with the bulk of the more combative members leading the way.
Once at the top level, she joins Alia in poking at the image (once it seems safe-ish). With something she could afford to lose, of course. "It spoke when 'revealed' and now when we approached. But it might not have spoken to us; just formed the words on cue. An illusionary understudy?" That felt vaguely better then the creature ignoring them. It also seemed like a neat trick, one she hoped to try one day. Maybe not quite in this creepy way though ...
Alia prods the baleful looking specter to no visible (or even tactile effect) and Illthir does likewise out of what might be a sense of peer pressure. Satisfied they move on.
At the intersection of hallways all appears normal, though Longtooth can't help but wince at the amount of noise the group is making.
Hey now! Illthir was no stranger to heroic actions at the risk of her well-being. Preferably *after* someone else though. Just in case. It would be a great tragedy if there were heroic demises without a skald to chronicle them - doubly so if it was the skald's heroic demise. Let's hope that's not needed though.
---
But let's look at the south wing now. There ought to be people here; or sign of struggle? Probably more traps hidden somewhere though. Better keep her eyes open!
"It's not on fire, filled with thorns or sprouting dark prophecies. So far so good!" Illthir nervously laughs.
It looks fine Illithir from about 25 feet away and around the corner through a thick screen of heavily armored individuals.
After hearing Illitir though, Matheus looks to Longtooth and suggests he go check things out.
To which the indignant old rogue replies "After all the noise you lot made getting here? The dead were already awake. You didn't have to wake them more."
"Sorry," Serena mutters. "Plate armor isn't exactly made for stealth."
"On the plus side, someone went to the trouble of making that illusion talk to us to lure us into a trap. Chances are whoever did so also placed a spell of Alarm, so would have known we're coming anyway. This way, at least, we don't expect to have the element of surprise.", Alia adds, but takes care to soften her own steps henceforth, regardless.
Not that she is putting very much effort into it, between Serena and Durgan and their armors...
"May as well start with what is ahead of us," Serena says, approaching door number 2. "Shall I open it politely, or should we just barge in?"
"I think we are past politeness at this point.", Alia responds.
"If any survivors feel offended by their rescue opening doors without proper etiquette and decorum, they are welcome to file a complaint if we make it out of here."
Serena shrugs and applies her right foot firmly to the door.
Illthir squirms a bit, tries to not feel terrible about the entire thing; feels terrible. And then gently pushes herself a bit closer to the door about to be paladin-ed.
The unlocked door opens into the spare room beyond. It looks well kept, but unused.
"Lets swiftly check for anything we may make use of, then proceed to the next door.", Alia suggests, taking a glance across the room
A quick glance by Alia is enough to tell her that there is nothing here beyond of what one might expect from a nice guest room.
"Well, that wasn't terribly exciting." Illthir lies with her heart beating hard. It was almost worse to find *nothing* instead of some trap. Almost. With a sigh she gestures towards door #1. "Let us me methodical about this. Serena, if you will..?"
Longtooth shakes his head at Illthir's words in resignation.
Varn nods grimly.
Dool merely rolls his eyes.
Serena applies her personal size 10 lockpick to door #1.
Durgan follows along, ready to help Serena if she asks for assistance.
The doors flies open on a not a bedroom anymore, but more of a vault filled with overfilled chests with their coins spilling out, next to a haphazard pile of silver ingots embossed with the Seal of Brevoy, a pile of rolled rugs, another open rug with a shattered sword lain upon it beside the door, and more swords laying about. A stone garden statue of a griffin stares at Serena from of to one side beside a gold harp and a round wood table with a large globe set at its center, and pile of framed paintings. There are barrels of wine with the Iannuchi brand burned in their sides set next to the door and a huge mirror set next to that along the east wall.
All the windows seem to have been bricked up and the only light comes from a pair of torches set beside the entrance doors. You have a sense that there is something not quite right about the room, like you've wandered into a dungeon treasure chamber rather than an opulent upstairs suite.
"What the...?" Serena immediately expects an illusion and attempts to disbelieve what she is seeing.
"Does the man think he is a dragon?", Alia asks, looking from behind Serena, "Or worse, IS he a dragon?"
She is not quite willing to believe the mound of treasures they stumbled upon, turning to the other magically inclined members of the party:"Any indication of foul play here? In terms of the arcane weave?"
From the doorway, Serena doesn't sense any magical trickery.
"Does the man think he is a dragon?", Alia asks, looking from behind Serena, "Or worse, IS he a dragon?"
She is not quite willing to believe the mound of treasures they stumbled upon, turning to the other magically inclined members of the party:"Any indication of foul play here? In terms of the arcane weave?"
Alas, all of the wizads in the company are still outside in the hallway and out of sight of the room's interior.