Wait, Rallos. There's something amiss. What if the straps are already undone? Pertreko, do you sense something INSIDE the coffin, or is it just NEAR the coffin? I know our strange senses are difficult to master. Yasmin, use some of your light to show us the ceiling, too. I don't want an unliving abomination to drop on me while my attention is focused on opening the coffin.
– as you get closer to the sepulcher, you all become aware of the scratching coming from within – as you draw closer, it becomes more agitated. As Yasmin’s lights flit around the ceiling, and other areas around the stone cask, you see nothing out of the ‘ordinary’.
– as much as you can be sure, the presence is within the sepulcher.
Well, that answers my question, I guess. Ready, Grayface?
Pertreeko nods grimly to what Ea already surmised. "It's in there." his voice is clearer now, he seems to have come back fully to himself. He exhales a long slow breath and spreads his arms and stance slightly, bracing himself for whatever horror lay within.
Grayface looked at Ea sternly with his one good eye and nodded.
Ea nods to Rallos, and traces a spiral over her heart as he opens the coffin.
No undead shall be safe. But how much should my companion risk to put the unliving curse at rest? It's not even their holy and sacred duty. They do it because it feels the right thing to do. And of course, because they could reap some monetary reward, but there's nothing wrong with that. They put themselves at so much risk... I shall do my best to protect and save them, because they hope I'll do it. If Pharasma allows me, of course. PLease, Lady of the Graves, don't let my friends die, or worse, fall prey to undeath.
She pauses, and smiles,genuinely. An odd sight in this grim place, at this strange moment between life, death and undeath...
Friends. You are my friends.
Rallos checks the sepulcher for traps before handling it.
Yasmin takes up a position near a corner, preparing to blast whatever was inside with elemental energies.
She thought for a moment about Ea's statement. Why was she risking her neck just to fight a perfectly sealed-up undead? She wasn't really sure, though she wasn't going to admit that. Maybe Ea had a point.
"Of course we're your friends. Believe me, I don't normally go around disturbing undead creatures just for the sake of destroying them."
As the iron bands are released from the stone coffin, the heavy casket lid slides off and the decaying body of a glowing eyed humanoid quickly starts to clamber from it's tomb, "Who disturbs my sleep?"
Grayface held back his horror to be indulged at another time. This abomination was more horrible than any he'd yet seen. The fact that it was apparently sentient unsettled him even further.
When the monster arose he took a heavy swing.
It's a wight. Let's destroy it.
- You do recall that wights are highly susceptible to resurrection magic...
Rallos' first stab at the wight glances off of the stone sepulcher, his over-enthusiasm letting him down at the vital moment...
...and when the undead creature starts to rise from it's resting place; Grayface's blade cuts into the monster's shoulder - thick, black blood oozes down his blade - whilst neither Ea nor Rallos can get their attacks in.
"You will pay for laying your hands on my noble body...mortal!!!"
The creature lurches at Grayface, it's surprisingly powerful bulk slamming against the warrior and, clasping his hands on Grayface's shoulders...a stream of violet energy passes from the beleaguered warrior, up the wight's arms and into it's chest...
"I will feast upon your souls...and the husks of your bodies will serve me through eternity"
For each negative level a creature has, it takes a cumulative –1 penalty on all ability checks, attack rolls, combat maneuver checks, Combat Maneuver Defense, saving throws, and skill checks. In addition, the creature reduces its current and total hit points by 5 for each negative level it possesses. The creature is also treated as one level lower for the purpose of level-dependent variables (such as spellcasting) for each negative level possessed. Spellcasters do not lose any prepared spells or slots as a result of negative levels. If a creature's negative levels equal or exceed its total Hit Dice, it dies.
"No you don't, monster! This man's soul is his own! We are prepared for you!" So saying, the druid darts forward, leaning forward in his urgency. Slapping a hand on Gray's shoulder even as they struggle against each other, casting Restoration and removing the energy drain.
"Let's see if you burn like all the others!" Yasmin unleashes fire upon the wight!
Rallos strikes at the abomination, seeking a weakness in his defenses.
Before her friends move to flank, Yasmin let's out a gout of flame...cobwebs and dust ignite immediately and, with a stink of putrid flesh burning, the wight is also caught in the burst...
...and then Rallos, silently, slips behind the wight and plunges his blade between its cadaverous ribs.
Watching his life force energy -- his very essence, being yanked out of him to sustain and feed the undead was extremely painful. There was nothing yet in his experience to compare it to. He'd taken lashes, beatings, cuts, stabs and more-- but nothing compared.
He pressed on, having no alternative.
Ea calls on Pharasma power to weaken further the wight.
As Ea's divine powers wash over the creature Grayface, perhaps shaken by his experience, misses with his pressing attack.
"It burns!!! I will take your life...foolish priestess"
No. You won't.Be happy, foul creature, soon your damnation will come to an end, and Pharasma will welcome you to your eternal rest.I'll pray for you.
Having the attention of the undead, Ea was ready to strike, if her friends don't already spell doom for the unholy corpse
The flames and holy energy bursts of his friends were doing serious damage to the undead. Grayface was glad for it but wanted to contribute in the best way he knew how.
He made another attack routine.
Ea and Grayface both attempt to end the Wight's un-hallowed existence, and both fail with clumsy lunges and swings with their weapons.
Yasmin attempts to hit the creature with acid. ;
Zzzzap...a bolt of lightning strikes the wight as Pertreeko takes a few wary steps back.
Rallos steels himself and aims his rapier towards a perceived chink in the wight's defenses.
Time to send you back to the depths, monster!
Rallos' prediction of the wight's weak spot is proven to be wrong as his blade pierces cloth but meets no flesh...
Meanwhile, standing back from the Melee, neither Pertreeko nor Yasmin make their attacks count - Yasmin's acid splash is accurate but her command of her arcane energy goes awry and she creates water - whilst Pertreeko's bolt of lightning fizzles and grounds itself before striking the undead.
"Pathetic mortals - accept the inevitable and lay down your weapons!!!"
"We must end this monster! Focus damn it!"
Unsure if he was berating himself or his friends' accuracy, he continued slicing away.
He will fall...rest assured, he will fall.
Rallos stabs at the monstrosity, trying to find what is left of the creature's blackened heart.
"Well, that was a bit embarassing," says Yasmin as she splashes the creature with water. She tries to go with the flow, and hit the creature with ice! ; .
Ea changes strategy, unleashing another wave of holy energy.
A spiral forms around the undead, and tries to constrict and crush him into oblivion
The Lady of the Graves is eager to meet you. Don't be afraid. You will soon rest in peace.
Ea’s pharasmin spiral grows ever tighter around the struggling wight until, with a final promise to return, the curse of undeath is purged from the creature. Even as the cadaverous body becomes still and falls to the floor, it starts to crumble to – within seconds all that remains is a small pile of bone dust on the floor of the crypt. In the middle of the pile of dust lies, an elaborately decorated pectoral (an armoured collar usually designed to protect the throat and upped chest) made of aged and tarnished gold.
– your Spirit Sense confirms that there are no further undead within this room.
Ea lowers her head, looking at the crumbling body slowly becoming a pile of bone dust through her hair
Welcome into the Eternal realms.You've had a long and tortuous road, The Lady has waited for you, patiently, as years passed into decades, maybe even centuries, but the goal is finally reached. Pharasma will judge you, as she will judge each of us,living...or unliving.
She rises her head again and says
Thank you for your help. We did something good today.
"Well done, Priestess. That was an impressive display of magic. I feel much more at ease now that that abominable wight is put to rest," the druid comments, before turning his attention to Grayface. "The monsters sure love to drain you of your strength, don't they big guy? How are you feeling?"
Fate has favored us, this time. I'm Pharasma intrument, that's all. Her power- a very small part of her power, in fact- destroyed the wight, not me. We still have to find and destroy the Crowned Skulls undeads.
"Nice job everyone." Looking to Pertreeko he stares hard, but his gaze softens a moment later, followed by a thin smile.
"Yes they do. I feel... like hell. It is far and away worse than the spider's poison."
Remember the Gibbering thing must be somewhere too,at this level...
Aye, that thing is still loose around here somewhere. Before we head out...shouldn't we check out that collar that thing had on? It might provide some information about something or be useful to someone.
"Phew, nice job blasting the undead, Ea.". Yasmin indeed can't help but check out the strange armor left behind.
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Grayface examines his fairly serious wounds, looking for any festering or residuals from the wight's unholy attack. Seeing nothing but deep wounds, he solicits help from his friends.
"My wounds are fairly serious. I would request magical healing from someone before we press on."
Of course Grayface. Let's use that curing wand, shall we?
Thank you Ea...I appreciate that.
Rallos checks the door for any traps.
Pertreeko stays quiet so as not to disturb the rogue's concentration, looking nervously all about him for any sign of the gibbering mouther. That abominable creature scared the feathers off him.
- you don't detect any magical properties on the golden pectoral. It is marked with an almost regal crest - a rampant lion atop n oak tree.
Ever mindful of the babbling creature that may still roam this floor of the dungeon, Rallos listens carefully at the door and, finding it quiet, pushes the door gently open. The room is well decorated and maintained - a finely woven rug with a subtle tan and moorit pattern covers the floor of this bedroom. A garderobe enclosed by a wall is in the northeast corner, and to the west of it stands a large wardrobe.
Yasmin takes the armor, though she does glance at Ea, wondering if the priestess would disapprove.
She scans for more magic as Rallos opens the door.
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