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If I missed something from the redo of actions, please let me know.
__________[dice=Mummy Will Save vs Aura]1d20+7, fail
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Uthred lands and tears a gaping gash into his foe with aplomb.
Harrow, angry that he cannot express his anger through his usual outlet (yelling), obliterates his foe. With that mummy gone, the half-orc is no longer subjected to its aura. He can breathe again.
The green mummy moves to the square beneath Berosius.
, success
, success
, success
It tries to slam Uthred, but misses.
, miss
END OF ROUND 1
START OF ROUND 2
The pink mummy attacks Harrow:
, , ,
, miss!
The brawny half-orc takes another 3 HP of damage.
The whole party is up!
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@Harrow: OK on the re-roll. :( You have bog rot. 9 rounds after this combat is over it will hit you. You will lose one point of CON and 3 points of DEX. To resolve bog rot you will need to:
1) Remove Curse
2) Cure Disease
3) Restoration (lesser x2 or greater x1); the caster of the restoration(s) will need to make a DC 20 caster level check to restore your lost attribute(s).
____________________________________________________________
Simultaneously, the party unleashes their attacks upon the animated dead.
Uthred's blades zip into his opponent.
Harrow's nodachi slices into another.
Berosius weakens the undead with positive energy.
The archons strafe them with "nukes" from above.
Mareq applies the finishing touch with arcane cold.
Combat over!
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"Come here, Harrow," says Berosius, more seriously than usual. "Kneel down, servant of Ragathiel, and remove your helm."
Berosius lays his hands on Harrow's brow and chants prayers to both their patrons, Milani and Ragathiel.
Then he removes a scroll (the vestments only work once a day) and intones more prayers in a clear, high voice.
Berosius takes a deep breath, and continues on in beseeching the gods for the health of his friend.
Sweating and a little little light-headed, Berosius summons his strength for a lengthy prayer of thanks to both Ragathiel and Milani. When he is finished, he kisses Harrow's forehead. "Go, son of Righteous Wrath, and drive the wicked before you."
He goes and leans against a cool stone pillar, breathing softly with the exertion.
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Any other healing / post combat prep?
Presuming that the party searches the room, let me describe the areas down the narrow hallways.
These two long chambers are nearly identical. Each contains a long, 10-foot-deep trough carved into the stone floor that runs the length of one wall. Each trough is filled with a vile bubbling black sludge that reeks of salt water and rotten meat and radiates strong necromancy to spells such as detect magic.
And the throne, again:
A brass plaque is affixed to the base of the throne inscribed with the following words in the Common tongue: “Behold, Hrethnar’s throne. Cold and empty, befitting a traitor.” Above this plaque is an empty compartment with a shallow key-shaped storage cavity
Hand-wave:
A sufficient survival check informs you that someone recently took something from this cavity. Looks like Captain Faroon is still a step ahead of you.
There's nothing else to find in this immediate area.
The hallway to the south:
This long featureless hall is imbued with the extradimensional magic that permeates the Gloomspires. The unlit hall extends for 1,001 feet and is obviously much too large to fit within the Gloomspire’s exterior dimensions. The hall ends at a set of unlocked stone double doors.
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"The obvious next step is to go through these stone doors," suggests Mareq.
"Return to Mount Celestia and your posts on the slopes of Heaven, good allies," says Mareq, waving his hand at the three faithful lantern archons.
And now, for a less faithful creature, he thinks to himself, drawing forth the battered brass lamp containing his thrall, Husarq al-Shamiri.
"COME FORTH, THRALL!" he intones strongly, striking the lamp with a small hammer. Oddly, he does not smash the lamp, destroy it, immerse it in water, or otherwise punish the abode of his thrall. The lingering air of goodness, flickering through the room like the holy light of the heavenly archons, permeates Mareq's lungs still.
Smoke begins to billow forth from the lamp...
Husarq sets one of his wet carpets atop the three, poorly repaired wooden chairs that surround his reading table.
Drying out his carpets is always a difficult task, especially in the small confines of his extradimensional abode.
Mold may be the death of me, if my Master does not kill me first, he thinks to himself.
The small room's book shelves, resting atop two stone blocks to keep them from the frequent inundation his master inflicts upon him, shudder slightly at the soft ringing, nay gentle ringing of a hammer, as if upon brass.
What is wrong? Who summons me forth? Husarq wonders, unfamiliar with the unhateful calling. Certainly not my Master.
Husarq grabs Al-Saif from its resting spot upon the wall just as he begins to disapparate into smoke and swirl up and out of his room and into...
... the Gloomspires. Mareq and his allies stand about, looking at a large throne. Evil permeates the area, though Husarq can whiff a brief scent goodness as he solidifies. He looks about, confused, bowing before Mareq.
"I arrive. Speak your will and it shall be done, oh Most Glorious of Glories, Creator of Happiness and Joy, Meter of Justice, Mareq ibn Bolthuni, My Master."
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"Thanks, best half-ling friend!" Harrow smiles to Berosius. "Harrow feel much better!"
Harrow shoulders his pole arm and walks past Husarq. "Hello, big guy that Mareq not like. Hopefully Harrow can keep peace between you guys. Maybe everyone start to like each other? Anyways, Harrow agree stone doors good choice."
Harrow shoulders his pole arm and walks past Husarq. "Hello, big guy that Mareq not like. Hopefully Harrow can keep peace between you guys. Maybe everyone start to like each other? Anyways, Harrow agree stone doors good choice."
"My Master is my Master. Peace doesn't not enter into it, Harrow Tatterhood," says Husarq with a bow of acknowledgement to the half-orc.
"I assume between the two of us, we can open these stone doors," he suggests.
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The strong party members force open the door. A side passage widens into a dead end flanked by two alcoves. Carved into the wall of the western alcove is a bas-relief of a humanoid face with bulging eyes, two small holes for a nose, and a wide mouth filled with roiling black and violet mist. Hovering a few feet from the floor in the eastern alcove is a two-foot diameter black sphere, its glass-like surface reflecting a vast cityscape of ruined buildings beneath a dark, alien sky.
(A picture is posted in the maps file.)
A human woman stands near the carved image. She is drooling slightly.
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Yur mission is still to explore Hrethnar's tomb. How do you guys want to deal with this site?
How would you like to investigate the face and the sphere?
What do you want to do with the human woman? She has no gear that would be of interest to you.
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Harrow looks at the woman and says "Harrow think not anything can do with her. Maybe her own group come back for her. We can check again before we leave. But for now, see what going on with this face thingie."
Harrow casts detect magic and concentrates to see what it does. It seems to take all of his mental capacity.
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"I don't know," Berosisus says in response to both Harrow and Lilli. "But I think it did something to that poor woman's mind. Don't let it happen to you. This is a magic beyond the power of my spirits to understand and I think beyond my power to affect."
"Can we just get her back to the ship? I'd feel better if we didn't leave her here to starve to death."
Uthred's ears prick up as Berosius mentions going back to the ship...
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The party, uncertain about the magical device or the woman, leaves the area--marking it for their return trip. Continuing on, you come to a long, spiral staircase down. It opens into a room.
This large, oddly shaped chamber has a high ceiling and a floor completely covered with a thin layer of oily green goo. An enormous machine squats in the northeastern corner, leaking the strange green goo. The machine resembles a massive rotting tangle of fleshy, metal-banded tentacles of green and mauve flesh studded with strange blinking gauges, crystal levers, and crackling metal wires. The undulating mass constantly emits a bizarre chorus of high-pitched wails, hooting whistles, and low throaty growls.