Winter shakes her head sadly. She checks the note board at the bed's foot. "His name was Jeprin Mears. He was here seeking treatment for narcolepsy," she sighs, reciting another prayer to Pharasma before joining you.
Just as you're turning away, Jeprin's corpse twitches. You look back to see his body contort and twist, nails lengthening into veritable claws and teeth expanding long and sharp. Already emaciated, his skin seems to stretch tightly over the frame of his bones. "Sooo... hungry!" he groans, voice raspy. The new ghoul's eyes open and he sees you. Immediately, Jeprin starts to thrash against his restraints, drooling and ravenous.
Ven jams the but of his quarter staff into the ghoul's face. "The mist is the source of this necromancy!"
Aenian also follows up with a stab to the heart.
You quickly dispatch the restrained ghoul. Winter examines the corpse closely, looking even paler than normal. "Horrifying," she mutters, swallowing bile. She quickly adds another benediction to Pharasma, more earnestly this time.
Ven sighs as he checks the remaining beds for any other patients. "We must put an end to this vile mist. I'm beginning to suspect that it is directly related to the cataclysm."
If there is nothing else of interest in the room, he exits and heads north down the hall.
"And the mist is spewing from Dr Losandro. Should we return and ... uh, end the source before we pursue further. Might be less of these things to encounter, at the very least."
Aenian wrinkles his brow, "We would have to back across the courtyard, though. "
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Ven stops to consider Aenian's point. "Yes, you're right. She may be the source for all of this. We need to stop her - one way or the other."
He follows Aenian back to Dr. Losandro's room.
You start out but Winter holds up a hand after you exit to the corridor. "I'm not so sure. Based on what you've told me, Losandro is exhaling multi-colored vapors, not this yellow fog. She might have been responsible for it in some way, but there's no way she's the source of all this mist."
"Well, I guess we shouldn't be hasty. The yellow mist is the same as the outside mist, though right?"
Aenian nods to Venn, "I don't want to go through that courtyard again unless we have to. Let's finish exploring here."
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Ven shrugs, "Onward then. Let's see if we can find a way out of here."
He heads north down the passage.
You leave the communal ward and continue north down the corridor. It opens up into a large dayroom. Worn old chairs and small tables set with the scattered pieces of simple games lay scattered throughout. A serving hatch in the north wall opens into a darkened space beyond. Vast glass windows dominate the eastern walls, beyond which a jaundiced kaleidoscope swirls hypnotically. A coppery smell permeates the room, and to the west stands a wall of red.
A stream of blood flows continuously across the floor of the room, from its source: a rotund elderly lady in a faded housecoat, sitting in a wheelchair facing out the eastern windows. A gaping wound covers her chest, gore pooling and streaming away from her. The blood from the stream pools into the western corridor, filling the area from floor to ceiling!
Ven will study the woman for any movement or signs that she is undead. He will detect magic and will detect psychic significance in the room. He will also study the standing blood and will attempt to determine how it is pooling up.
Aenian runs his hand through his hair, "Can this place be any more bizarre? Looks like that trapped blood is what's causing that door over there to seep. No way that woman had that much blood in her. Doesn't seem right."
Aenian looks around for any clues.
Ven detects no magic, but picks up some psychic significance from the woman's body. You cannot suss out what is causing the inordinate amount of blood to pool vertically in the corridor. It appears to be some kind of persistent haunt.
Aenian searches for clues, finding only a name stitched onto the wheelchair identifying her as 'Mrs Freeling'.
Ven turns to Aenian and Winter. "The blood is a haunt of some sort. It may also be a trap. I suggest we go around it and not cross the stream. The woman may very well be undead also, so be mindful of that."
He then readies his crossbow and edges around the woman to the other side of the room. If nothing happens he will listen at the double doors and he will peer into the hatch.
Ven makes his way carefully around the eastern edge of the room, avoiding contact with Mrs Freeling and the stream of blood. Just as he rounds the corner and starts towards the window-like hatch, you are all startled by a loud thump and animal-like cry as a distorted face smacks against the glass, sending a spider web of cracks through it. "'Ere! 'Ere!" the madman caws. "Fresh 'uns in 'ere!" He throws a fist into the glass, shattering the hatch. You now see the man is wearing a yellow-stained sheet as he starts to climb through, snarling and drooling.
The apostle stumbles through the broken window, standing and closing on Venn, all the while cawing and cackling madly. He brandishes a broken saw blade.
Another apostle follows through the hatch, this one bald and bulky, with eyes so bloodshot as to be nearly red. He charges towards Aenian... as soon as he starts to cross the blood stream, it lurches up in a sudden, gory surge.
The blood wave knocks the man sideways, pulling him along with its current to the west.
A third and fourth apostle crawl through the hatch. A young woman and grizzled man with an eyepatch, they appear to be as drug-crazed as their companions.
Aenian moves over to stab the man on the ground.
Aenian easily stabs the man as he struggles against the blood flow.
Winter moves up behind Ven, brandishing her dagger. "Fall back!" she calls to him. "I'll cover you."
Ven withdraws back to the other side of the blood line.
Ven retreats behind Winter and around the blood stream.
"Zandalusss!" Eyepatch roars, running over to team up on Winter with the cawing apostle. They shove Mrs Freeling aside casually, the old woman's corpse sprawling onto the floor. They both hit Winter hard, with broken sawblade and makeshift club, respectively. Winter winces and lets out a curse in a hoarse whisper that sounds like someone else.
;
;
The young apostle picks up a piece of broken brick and hurls it at Ven's head.
;
The apostle caught in the blood stream tries to roll out of the surging gore. He nearly gets up before another heavy wave of blood knocks him off his feet again and further towards the pooling blood in the west corridor.
Ven summons the darkness within and takes on the visage of a sadistic killer. "Time to die you yellow bastards."
He points a quivering finger at eye patch and blasts the apostle with two force bolts.
; +1 bleed
Aenian jumps over the blood stream safely, running to Winter's aid and stabbing at Eyepatch unsuccessfully.
Winter clenches her fists, face twisted in a grimace of anger and disgust. Her form outlines with an orange-tinged plasma. She drops her dagger and attacks with talon-like claws extending through her leather gloves. She rakes bloody lines into the flesh of the cawing apostle.
;
;
Ven blasts the eyepatch apostle with two force missiles that leave bleeding wounds. The apostles fight on in their drug-addled craze. The one apostle screeches like a wounded bird after Winter claws him, but he cuts her again in return. Eyepatch spins on Aenian, slamming him in the shoulder with his heavy club. The young woman beans Ven with another hunk of stone.
;
;
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The last apostle finally breaks free from the bloody stream, crawling out of the flow covered in blood and gore. He roars like a beast as he stands, brandishing a spiked club.
Ven turns with a snarl and hits the apostle whom cross the stream with two force bolts.
; +1 bleed
Aenian parries and returns a quick stab at his attacker, following up with a step north near the chair and a flanking attack with Winter.
Aenian deflects the apostle's club, but cannot connect on his quick riposte. With a shift to outflank the man, he follows through with another strike, piercing the man in the side. He sputters blood as he collapses to the floor.
Winter keeps raking her claws at the other apostle, but the cawing man ducks and dodges out of the way.
;
;
Ven turns and hits the gore-covered apostle with force bolts.
The apostles attack, with the cawing man cutting at Winter. Her plasma shield deflects his blade aside. The young woman draws a scalpel and slices at Aenian, barely missing. The bloody apostle charges Ven, but slips on the gore and nearly trips up.
;
;
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Ven takes a 5' step back and hits the man again.
; +1 bleed
Aenian 5 foots toward the woman to avoid a flank situation, trusting Winter to handle herself and stabs out.
Aenian side-steps and stabs, catching the woman off balance. His rapier pierces her through the ribs, striking a vital organ. She collapses, bleeding profusely.
Winter cuts down the next apostle with a couple of rending claw attacks.
;
;
Lastly, Ven hits the bloody apostle with another pair of force missiles. He stumbles forward, landing face-first on the tiles.
Breathing heavily, more from emotional than physicial exertion, Winter retracts her long claws and tries to repair her ripped gloves. The orange plasma shield fades.
As she regains control of her emotions, she casts a healing spell over her wounds.
Ven binds his wounds and then searches the bodies of the slain acolytes. "More fanatics in yellow. What could have converted them all to this murderous cult of Zandalus?"
He eyes the mist outside uneasily.
"Winter, can I trouble you for some healing?"
He then steps tentatively out through the broken window and looks around.
Aenian ignores Ven as he stares at Winter, "What was that? The claws, the weird orange shield? You're no average cleric of Pharasma ... or have I really been out of it for so long that that's now normal?"
"Of course," Winter replies to Ven, shaking off her distraction and walking over to heal him.
She leans down to examine one of the bodies. "Its like they were drugged out of their minds. Were the other apostles you encountered like that?"
To Aenian's question, she nods, "You're right, I'm not a cleric, but I am still one of Pharasma's devoted. The claws are a part of my heritage -- one I like to keep hidden as it often raises uncomfortable questions." She sighs, ill at ease. "The ectoplasmic shield is a manifestation of my sister's spirit. It's... a long story."
"One I'd like to hear more about when we return and have less pressing things to take care of."
Aenian takes a moment to study the body and the pooling river of blood to see if he can figure out what supernatural thing is causing it.
"I'd rather figure out how to open that door so we don't have to go back outside," he states pointing to the map where the door meets the pool of blood.
"Agreed", Winter nods, joining in the search of the area.
The four apostles, much like the others you've encountered, carry nothing of real value.
Examining Mrs Freeling carefully, it is clear that her corpse is the source of the bloody river. Other than the gaping wound in her chest, from which the gore continuously flows, there is no other sign of injury. A small clipboard attached to her chair indicates a daily regimen of some drugs, and her treatment schedule abruptly stops on the day of the tremors and uprising.
You crawl through the shattered service hatch, finding a low desk next to the window. Behind it an empty doorframe opens into a ransacked storage room, its floor covered in broken glass and opalescent stains. Based on the mixture of smells and shattered bottles, it was once the asylum's pharmacy. The medicine cabinet has been thoroughly -- and recently -- ransacked.
Ven will detect magic and will search the room.
Ven has a hard time picking out anything from the mess, but his divination highlight two intact vials that radiate magic.
Ven attempts to identify the vials.
Aenian looks at Mrs Freeling with curiosity. "You think finding her drugs or sewing up that wound would help this scenario? Wonder why she is gushing blood to begin with."
He ponders it for a moment, "Let me experiment a bit." The investigator gets behind the dead woman and grabs her under the arms, attempting to slide her and the chair 5 feet to the south, keeping her chest pointed away.
Ven shrugs, "It's worth a try."
He picks up the clipboard and notes the drugs. He then rummages through the storage room and attempts to find the drugs.
Aenian tries to move the body but finds her extremely difficult to move, as if the weight of all the expended blood were holding her in place.
Otherwise, Aenian's basic idea works. Using the notes on Mrs Freeling's clipboard, Ven is able to locate a few intact doses of the drug she was taking. Ven administers the medicine to her corpse and the strange effect immediately ends. The vast pool of blood dissipates quickly, flowing away through unseen cracks in the floor, walls and ceiling, until a minute later, none remains. Even Mrs Freeling's corpse returns to its original state, intact and unwounded, and she rests at ease.
Ven smiles as the blood flow stops. "That was a brilliant idea, Aenian! That's one bit of crazy ended ... and infinite to go."
He sighs and hands over one of the potions to the empiricist. "We better keep moving."
Ven listens at the double doors and opens them if he doesn't hear anything.
Before heading to the doors, Aenian checks to see if he can open the stuck door to the west where the blood was pooling first.
After that, he joins Ven as the vanguard into the room to the north.
Aenian checks the previously-blocked door, which leads to a storage closet. Racks of cleaning supplies and bins of stained laundry stew here, filling the close space with a unique, acrid reek. Most of the cleaning supplies, stained sheets, and soiled bedclothes are in decent condition.
The corpse of an orderly lies in a pool of her own dried blood. She apparently died from numerous stab wounds. It appears that she retreated into the closet not long before she expired from her injuries. She wears a ring that radiates magic. You also find two potion vials among the supplies that radiate magic. The rest is mundane.
*
A door adjacent to the service hatch opens into a cramped nurses' office. It holds a pair of small wooden writing desks and a worn couch that looks like it has been slept on many times. Papers and writing utensils are scattered across the room, remnants of the apostles' ransacking.
*
You open the double doors and face a wall of pure darkness, filling the entire room beyond. Even Aenian's drow eyes cannot penetrate the gloom.
You hear the faint sobs of a young boy from somewhere within.
"Brenton, wake up! The lamp went out!"
Ven will attempt to identify the ring and potions.
; ring
Ven will search the writing desks and will study the papers.
Ven casts a light spell on the tip of his quarter staff and then extends the staff into the darkness. He then cautiously calls out to the boy "Son, we're here to help. What's your name? What are you doing here? Can you walk to my voice?"
Aenian gathers up the items as needed and places them in the haversack. He aids in the searching of the rooms.
He listens keenly in the blackened room, whispering to the others. "I can't see a damn thing. This darkness is unnatural. Another haunt? Anyone know this Brenton?"