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The shadow cringes as it feels the slicing edge of Cutter's shortsword again, accompanied by Caradeum's disrupting ray. Both attacks land, making the shadow fainter with each magical strike.
Knorrin raises his holy symbol again, empowered by Sarenrae, bane of the undead and sun incarnate. The shadow proves resilient, however, and is unafraid of the priest.
Floggentop hits the creature with his wand, but the undead hardly feels the burning touch of the small ivory shaft.
The shadow figure counterattacks, trying to hit Rellen again.
It finds its way past the fierce warrior's heavy armor and defensive moves, slowing his movements as it drains his life force once again.
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Cutter puts away the magic sword. "Well done Pathfinders! You magics continue to amaze me." he scratches Nightrunner behind the ears, "And you, you big goof, I suppose you think you killed it all by yourself?"
"That creature, it sapped your strength didn't it Rellen? Will it return quickly?" he asks. Turning to Choamski, "It would seem that the door and the stones are somehow connected. Frankly, I was expecting more goblins though."
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"I suppose I'm left to my own devices as I have no intstrumental value as a swordsman?" Choamski wryly smiles.
"I feel like I could brave the horrors of the purple mist again now that I have faced them once. Before we head back to town I could quickly search the lab and run at the first sign of trouble."
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"I am afraid that I, too, am unable to heal what ails you, Choamski and Rellen. Rest and much time, I fear."
"We should, probably, allow Choamski to explore the misted lab. I fear, too, that we may not have as easy a time getting in the front door if we leave and come back, but I am no replacement for Rellen's sword, either, though goblins seem to be the least of our troubles."
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Rellen staggers back,
"Damned if I know how long it'll last, I feel like I've been drinking for a week," he tries a few experimental swings, "feel as nimble as ever, I should still be able to use my scabbards and hold up the front line, I just won't hit as hard or move as fast. Let's press on."
He begins to move forward toward the unexplored tunnel ahead...
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By the following evening Rellen is back to his usual sour self and enlists the help of some hay bales in a vigorous work out with his sword and scabbards, before honing them all back to deadly perfection,
"So, do we wish to speak with anyone else in town, or should we plunge in again? I don't see as we need to talk with anyone I know of, but then talking is not my thing."
After another good nights sleep Rellen is awake bright and early, and after a light breakfast and a quick soak in well water he dons his armour and declares himself ready to proceed.
Once they reach the Halls again he leads the way back to the room with the shadow, scowling as he enters, but pressing forward.
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Rellen penetrates in a larger, better-lit room. A large stone dais in this chamber supports a great sarcophagus. The lid, once carved in the image of a sleeping ancient warrior, is cracked into two pieces and lies askew. The dead bodies of several adventurers lie crumpled on the floor: a man with a shaven head wearing battered scraps of leather, a dark-haired woman in scholarly robes, and a yellow-haired elf in hide trappings. They rise to their feet and get ready to attack.
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Rellen flings his scabbard at the unaware warrior, surprising him completely. The slash of his blade also pierces its defenses, but only due to the incapacity from the undead to react in time.
Choamski aims and hits one of his rays of the purest energy, severely burning the walking dead.
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The arrow pierces the walking dead's flesh, but it meets some resistance in the process.
The first zombie charges Choamski, but misses completely.
In the meantime, Rellen's quarry turns his empty eyes and his hunger of life towards the Andoran, but also misses!
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Nightrunner almost flies past the zombie, which is far too slow to react and try to intercept the swift wolf. Then the mount proceeds with tearing the undead apart, while the halfling rider throws successfully a chakram at the other zombie. The latter charges at Cutter, but completely misses him.
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Perturbed that his foe managed to withstand both of his hits Rellen snarls and swings again, striking the creature perfectly under its rotting chin and tearing its head off! His opponent down Rellen sheathes his sword, wincing a little at the thought of having to clean out the rotting slimy gore.
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Rellen and Knorrin quickly put an end to this skirmish, laying waste on their foes. As the toughest one falls under Rellen's repeated well-aimed blows, the Andoran catches a glimpse of a finely-wrought ring the creature was wearing. Although the ring isn't magical, it bears the emblem of a noble house, and inside is engraved a name - Garhal Silvercrown. Nothing else of interest can be found in this room.
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Rellen bends down and plucks the ring from the corpses finger, sighing as he nudges the head b ack into place with his boot,
"I guess we came too late for our lost Lordling, rest in peace Garhal Silvercrown. May you fare better in the next life than in this one. Well, no point rushing him back, let's press on, we can carry them out on our way back."
Retrieving his scabbard he cleans it up with a rag, before withdrawing his sword and doing the same and giving the inside of his scabbard a despairing look,
"Don't suppose anyone's got some kind of magical way to get this clean? I hate letting gunk fester in there."
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Knorrin stands a moment surprised and horrified at his own success in ending the life - or rather, unlife - of the zombie, his first kill, but he regains his composure and says a prayer, adding, "May you now find rest." He follows Rellen's example and asks Whizzy to clean his scimitar.
Knorrin then casts Detect Magic and scans the room and the bodies.
"It seems that Rellen has found another way to explore?" Knorrin hurries up to him and then casts prayerful spells for Guidance and Virtue on Cutter and then on Rellen, "It shall only last a minute or less, but as there appears to be danger around every corner in this place, it may be useful."
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There is indeed another room close to this one. Rellen enters it fearlessly, ready to face yet another dreadful foe this place seem to be so full of. A terrible stone idol stands on a small dais in the center of this crossshaped chamber. The idol depicts a demonic being with a birdlike head and writhing serpents for legs; the eyes are fiery orange gems. Ornamental pillars surround the chamber, and open archways lead from this chamber to the south and the west. An eerie soundlessness enwraps the entire chamber.
While this room seem to be the heart of all evil, your attention is drawn to the statue's eyes, which could well be part of the riddle you've been facing in this forsaken place. You also notice that anyone who enters the room cannot utter or make a single sound.
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Knorrin is startled by the suddenly silent movements of those entering the room. Pausing, he casts detect magic, concentrating until the auras resolve and anything magical is identified.
While he does so, he speculates, "If you'll permit me the obvious, those eyes may be part of the key. We also may be forming what my people, the people of the desert, call a 'spectrum', Sarenrae's Celebration and Promise. I believe you 'rainlanders' call it a 'rain bow' - maybe Erastil's Promise?"
"Anyway, I would also expect that they must be trapped, perhaps cursing those who pry them out. Who is our most perceptive dungeoneer to search the idols and walls?"