"Marten, you're still assuming that this is the challenge as intended. This might be a broken version, with no straightforward way out. But regardless, we have to try."
"I'm flabbergasted that you're not assuming this is the challenge as intended!"
Illia recoils as the group starts to discuss her. She shuffles to the corner of the room mumbling near incoherently "...the tentacle woman..." "...tried to get it out of me..."
Illia stairs at Marten as if he were a talking ooze but does not answer his question. She slumps against the walls and closes her eyes.
Looking a little more coherent and focused she speaks again. "Is there a way out?"
Azalia answers
Of course there is. Come with us, and we will get you out.
"Certainly. We haven't gone through all this for nothing!"
Illia nods "You can keep the gold I just want to get out." She starts getting to her feet but still leans against the wall. After gulping down something from a waterskin she seems to have found her second wind and signals with a nod she is ready to proceed.
Azalia checks for traps
Seeing no sign of a trap, she casts Open on the door.
"Illia, you stick with us, we'll do our best to see you out. Can you still fight at all? Just to know what to expect."
The halfling knight does his best to put her at ease, even given the grim surroundings.
"But maybe you can be more cooperative if we ask you for information," Marten snips at her.
"So?" Ferocia asks the woman, clearly having no intention of taking her anywhere if she can't even tell them what happened. "Who's the tentacle woman and what did she want?"
Illia's eyes go wide and she ignores the other questions as Ferocia asks about the tentacle woman "A monster..." Fear is plain on her features.
Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves cover the walls of this dimly lit library, with shorter stacks creating small dividers in the room’s interior. A reading table sits empty and unused in the library’s center. The shelves are a mass of fluttering pages, and books rearrange themselves and fly across the room constantly.
A man stands in the room desperately trying to search for something as the library whirls around him. "You have to help me, I can't leave until I find it."
You recognise this man as Terentius, a Chelish conjurer who was the sole contestant of last year’s Breaching Festival to make it into the Hall of Wards. He looks far older than you expected however.
With see invisibility running you can see six formless shapes are moving about the room rearranging the books.
Very little is known about these enigmatic and mysterious creatures, as their very nature makes details of their true form difficult to discern. Brought to this world from the Plane of Air, these creatures fulfill tasks for those who conjure them. Invisible stalkers act as guardians, assassins, and trackers, occupations in which they excel. Their natural invisibility and skill at stealth allow them to follow their quarry without detection and give them the upper hand when it comes to exterminating a mark.
Many invisible stalkers resent this and see these petty tasks as nothing more than chores dictated by mortals. When given a particularly complex or bothersome task, an invisible stalker seeks to find a loophole in a poorly worded instruction. For instance, wizards calling an invisible stalker into service with the instructions “protect me from danger” might find themselves escorted to a faraway hidden location, or even brought to the Plane of Air.
Due to their constant summoning, many invisible stalkers harbor hostility for those dwelling on the Material Plane. Those invisible stalkers new to the mortal world only know the stories of their kind and tend to keep an open mind about the intentions of those who call them. Over time, or in the service of a particularly vile master, invisible stalkers form negative opinions of these creatures of flesh and bone, leading to their tendency to pervert their instructions and cause harm to their masters. For older and more experienced invisible stalkers, the only thing protecting those who summon them is the magic that binds them. These creatures automatically try to use inconsistencies in the wording of their tasks and literal twists on the intention to find a way to inconvenience, injure, or even kill the priest or arcanist that brought them to the plane.
Walking into the room, Marten comes up short. His attention is drawn not to the flying books, but to the man standing in the middle of the room.
"His name is Terentius," he numbly explains to the others. "He is another Breaching Festival contestant.
"From last year."
Wild eyed as his nostrils flair before responding. "My spellbook, I can't leave without it. But everything keeps moving..." He growls in frustration before looking through more of the stacks, books still constantly being moved about the room.
Creydon focuses his attention on the books, trying to work out what magic is occurring.
You guys, I see invisible beings in the room. They are moving the books around.
After considering a little bit more, she says
There are six of them, and they are definitely invisible stalkers.
She speaks to Terentius softly.
Hey, Terentius. We'll get you a better spellbook, no problem. Just come with us and let's get out of here. I bet you could use a good meal and some rest, couldn't you?
The wizard picks up another book and checks it before turning angrily towards Azalia. "You don't understand I CAN'T leave until I find it." He hurls the book in her general direction but it's about a foot wide of hitting her. "Make yourself useful and find it."
The books continue to whirl about the room shifting and rearranging constantly.
Creydon can detect no magic in the area responsible for the movement though there are some magical auras about Terentius, likely magical equipment.
Zamanda whispers to the group
I think he is under some kind of compulsion. Perhaps we should bind him?
Even so, she asks him
Which one is your spellbook?
Being able to see the invisible stalkers, she thinks she might be able to get the correct book (if there is one and he isn't just insane) by watching where it goes.
He raises up a finger. "Deep crimson leather with gold emboss of a griffon rampant but... he's a clever one you see. I think the devil changed the cover to try and trick me."
Scanning the books flying around, Marten asks Terentius, "What magics have you already attempted? How long have you been looking?"
"Does anybody here speak Auran?" he asks the others.
"I've-" His eyes narrow and he looks towards Marten "You just want to know what magic I have left. Expend your own resources!"
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"No, you fool. I'm trying to not duplicate the expense of resources! How ungrateful. I don't see how you have the unmitigated gall to make demands of me! You should be thankful I'm even taking time on my way through to talk to you! You need me! Instead you think now's the time to finagle for a strategic advantage? Critical Thinking 101? Did you sleep through that class? Are you even eligible to win The Breaching, any more? You are last year's contestant, did you know that? An entire year has passed, and you haven't managed to find your spell book in that time. It's simple planar mechanics; do you understand? You're stuck here until somebody helps you or those," here Marten indicates something in the air that only he and Azalia can see, "return to their plane."
Marten continues to rant at the trapped student.
"You look like you got dressed from a garbage pile!"
Anneka produces a small sack of bread flour. Not for the first time...
"Can they hide covered in flour?" she asks.
"Excellent question!", Creydon quips, not knowing the answer for certain himself.
Azalia looks around to see if she can see the book described.
(While she's at it, she notes any books that radiate magic.)
He snorts derisively "A year? Maybe for you. Here its been twenty five years, two months and thirteen days." He turns towards Anneka.
"Did you say flour... I'll admit its not something I had access to... thats the most competent thung any of you have said."
Azalia spots a similar looming book but its a hippogriff on the cover and inside is filled with licentious poetry.
Azalia says quietly to the group
I think we should leave him here for now. We can come back and get him if we find a way to undo his curse, or whatever it is. If we stay here he's mad enough to attack us, and we can't do anything else to help him that he couldn't have done himself in twenty five years. I don't think his spellbook is even in here.
She retreats to the door, but waits to continue until she knows the party is with her.
Ferocia follows Azalia, content to leave the mad mage to his nonsense.
"Aye. A big con would be for the invisible stalkers to pretend it's still here. Let's go."
Marten continues to rant at Terentius until he notices the others in the party leaving.
"Oh. It looks like we're leaving, intending to come back for you when we can respond better to your threats. Until we come back, think about how you could have handled this situation better."
After they're all together again, Marten asks Illia how long she thinks she's been in this "Hall."
Azalia checks for traps on the next door.
If there aren't any she casts Open on the door (providing everyone is ready). If there are traps, then she'll do something different.
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Anneka's taken aback, unsure how to respond to a compliment from someone so clearly deranged.
She packs up her bread flour with dignity and follows the others.
"Fine, leave. Your minds are too feeble for this matter."
The overpowering stench of potent alchemical and arcane reagents fills this room, the cluttered surfaces of which are piled with half-full beakers, alembics, and retorts, each holding what appears to be a different bodily fluid.
A figure stands in the room. Twin tentacles stretch from the crown of this feminine fiend’s head, while her lower body blooms in a gown of writhing tendrils. "Tell me can you consider a reason why I shouldn't kill you all little mortals?" She watches you and is coiled ready for action.
Ilia looks upon the figure with dread and horror.
Known as handmaiden devils, Mothers of Pain, and Maids of Miscarriage, gylous attend to the whims and schemes of Hell’s few female overlords. Like manipulative matrons amid decadent mortal courts, these deceivers hide their fathomless evil beneath illusions of beauty, graciousness, and tradition. Gylous particularly loathe children. It’s said that the persistent cry of a babe can sometimes cause these fiends to abandon their illusions and viciously attack.
As greater devils, gylous can command many lesser devils, yet harbor an exclusive favoritism for erinyes. A gylou weighs 160 pounds and stands stiffly at 5-1/2 feet— though many wear their head-sprouting tentacles in tall, elaborate coiffures.
They're quite skilled with their tentacles and can easily surround and contain others with them.
Monster
Marten
Ferocia
Azalia
Drazh
Anneka
Sure, because you have no chance against us as a group. Better to just run away now. However, if there is something we can do for you to avoid this fight, let us know and we'll consider it.
"How terribly droll... and predictable." With a quick gesture oily black tentacles begin to envelope your group as the devil grins.
Marten
Ferocia
Creydon
Azalia
Drazh
Anneka
Ilia
Monster
Sensing that he's about to be grappled by a tentacle from below, Marten summons a mirror image of himself from his Mirror of Guarding Reflections.
Being dragged down from where he hovers into the mass of tentacles below, Marten quickly casts dimension door.
Unhindered by the tentacles, Azalia casts invisibility and then moves out of the affected area.
(fail)
(also fail)
Azalia is stuck in the Black Tentacles for the round.
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Azalia is surprised, but thankful at being teleported away from the black tentacles. Finding herself towards the west of the library again, she moves back east and casts Magic Missile at the rude devil-girl through the doorway.