Ven will detect magic on the backpack contents and then will pick up the eyeball to examine it more closely before handing it to Aenian with distaste. "Could this be a real eye somehow unnaturally preserved?"
He will open the Pharasma box.
The box is a phylactery, sealed and not meant to be opened without breaking it.
Ven detects magic from the backpack, potion, phylactery, and pearl. and dagger.
The eye does not radiate magic, and Ven cannot think of any practical explanation for it. Whoever holds it, it turns to look at.
Ven turns to Aenian. "Well, I suppose we can't very well leave those undead. We had best go back and destroy each one before we return to the camp."
He loads his crossbow and returns to the buried undead and prepares to destroy it from a distance. "Beware that thing in its belly."
"Concur."
Aenian will ready a shot for when Venn fires to shoot anything that emerges from the chest.
Vaustin loads his own crossbow, aiming at the writhing corpse over Aenian's shoulder. "Who fires first?"
"Venn fires at the corpse and you and I hit anything that emerges."
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Ven will fires at the corpse until it drops.
Ven's bolt impacts the corpse with a moist thump. A moment later, the body explodes in a sickly mess of parts and innards. The hands and head crawl and slither towards you, while the entrails thrash and writhe like grasping tentacles.
Aenian pins the head to the ground with a well-aimed shot -- it stops moving. He quickly reloads and fires again, this time at the writhing mass of entrails. This shot careens off the wall, disappearing into the rubble.
;
The entrails stretch closer towards Ven. The hands crawl towards Ven and Vaustin on spider-like fingers, leaping to attack. The first claws at Ven's leg, digging its bony fingers in deep and latching on. The second does the same with Vaustin.
;
; ;
Shouting in horror, Vaustin throws down his crossbow and unlatches his mace, swinging at the detached hand. With a solid swing, he smashes the hand into writhing bits.
;
Aenian's bolt slams into the mass of writhing viscera. They continue to writhe, but retreat back a few feet.
After Ven collapses, the crawling hand wriggles up his torso and latches around the unconscious man's neck, choking. "No!" Vaustin roars and swings his mace, knocking it away. Fingers and bits of dead flesh splatter the wall.
;
With the crawling bits destroyed, Aenian and Vaustin plug the mass of guts with a couple crossbow bolts each until it finally ceases writhing.
Aenian rushes over in a small panic to staunch Venn's wounds.
Flailing about, he calls upon Vaustin, "Oi, man. Give me some help here!"
Ven struggles back to consciousness. "Thank you Aenian ... I thought I was done for. What nightmare have we found ourselves in?"
He takes a moment to gather his composure before having a tepid look at the remains of the corpse.
"Well, I suppose we had better deal with the ghoul in the vat."
He reloads his crossbow and walks back to the lab.
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"Nothing a good bandage can't handle," Vaustin steps in and uses some bits of loose cloth to bind Ven's wounds and make him stable. He appears pleased and somewhat surprised by the result.
Ven comes to a few minutes later, aching more places than not. You approach the gory mess carefully, but it is no longer animate. Among the remains, you spot a necklace made from freshwater pearls, though mostly covered in blood.
Killing the ghoul in the vat is like shooting a fish in a barrel. You find nothing else of interest in the laundry rooms.
"Let's drag Oathsday back to the barrier to prove we're not doppelgangers and spend some time figuring out these items and what to do next. Maybe healing as well."
Aenian glances over his shoulder suddenly as they depart the room, and then frowns, shrugging to himself.
Vaustin nods, grim-faced, and hefts Oathday's body onto his shoulder. "Now that the area is clear, I'll send a work detail up to take care of the bodies." He shakes his head.
You return to the survivor's camp, battered and bruised but alive. The sense of calm returns almost palpably once you enter the chapel. You settle down to rest and recover. Winter comes by to check you both and Vaustin. It is still relatively early in the day, so she is able to use her magic to heal the worst of your wounds.
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Aenian shrinks away from Winter's touch, "Don't touch me. Don't know what you've been exposed to. I'll heal myself, thank you very much!"
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Ven will put a reassuring hand on Aenian's shoulder. "At ease, brother. Winter only wants to help." He then turns to the changeling. "We cleared the area north of here. I noticed two doors heading south. Do you know where they lead to and what we'll find there?"
Ven will also detect magic on the pearls.
"Oh, yes... one is an office for the chaplain, and the other a small shrine and records room. I keep the young children sequestered in the office where it's calm and safe, where they don't have to see any outbursts and cries of the wounded."
"And then there's the Weeping Wall..." she adds, shaking her head. "Some kind of haunt or aberration. It blocks a doorway to the east. I believe it connects to the admission hall."
"Rest for now. You've earned it! I'll speak to you both over dinner and, when you're ready, show you the wall."
"Yeah, let's rest and identify some items ... see what we found. Maybe one of these fools found my rapier somewhere ... I now recall owning one at one time. Anyone seen it or something like it? I'll buy it off you!"
Vaustin frowns. "No, this mace is the 'best' weapon we've got here, besides the crossbows, and even they're pretty rickety."
Something about the potion seems familiar, but Aenian can't quite place it...
Ven nods wearily to Winter, "Let me rest several hours so that I may refocus my mind. We can investigate the weeping wall then. "
He will meditate until dinner.
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After the meager dinner is served among the survivors, Winter finds you and gestures for you to follow. She takes you out of the chapel and through the door to the south. As she had explained, the first room is an office. A nest of cushions and linens squeezes between this room's rear wall and a battered desk covered in folded paper animals. A sculpted emblem of a spiraling comet overlooks the otherwise ransacked room.
"Tolman watches our two youngest in here during the day, but at night I have them join everyone to sleep in the chapel. I have come to believe the chapel is protected with a hallow effect, or some kind of divine blessing. Those of us who have had to sleep outside the chapel tell of horrible, hunted nightmares. But, within the chapel, people dream normally. For now." She sighs and shakes her head, letting the mask of strength slip for a moment.
"As you may have guessed, I am not one of the Briarstone staff or patients. I am a sister of Maiden's Choir Cathedral in Caliphas. My associates and I were helping a Royal Accuser investigate strangeness in Thrushmoor. We arrived here shortly before the uprising began, and then the tremors and collapse... It's been a game of survival ever since."
"You said you have questions. I will try to answer what I can."
"Thrushmoor, huh ... that's the town. Weird, my last memories are of Absalom. What brought you to the Asyluk specifically, and how did this whole thing go down? And tell us more of the uprising. Do you recognize us?"
Aenian says this last bit with suspicion.
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"I don't recognize you," Winter shakes her head. "But then, I knew almost nobody in this place before things went crazy. Forgive the pun."
"I came to Versex county with Royal Accuser Omari. She had been sent by the Ustalav government to investigate Haserton Lowls IV, the Count of Versex, who appears to have abandoned his duties in recent months. We were told Lowls had regular business here at Briarstone, so Accuser Omari sent me here to investigate while she proceeded on to Thrushmoor. Specifically, Lowls had some of his associates recently committed to the asylum."
"I was not able to learn much more, for the uprising broke out shortly after I arrived. It wasn't like any riot I've ever heard of though... more like a religious movement. Most of the northern halls were taken over by patients in yellow-stained robes, who call themselves the Apostles in Orpiment. Those we've encountered are fanatically devoted to a patient named Ulver Zandalus."
"That man you rescued from the ghoul, Juglan... he is one of these so-called apostles, though I doubt he is fully aware of what is going on. He certainly can't communicate anything meaningful."
Ven rises from his meditation feeling refreshed and somehow stronger. He then examines the items discovered earlier with fresh eyes.
Ven listens intently as Winter describes the events that led her to the asylum. "Ah yes, now that you mention it, I have heard of Briarstone Asylum and Thrushmoor. And these accusers are only sent by the royals to deal with the most serous of crimes, no? This Lowls situation must have been pretty serious for an accuser to get involved. Can you tell us anymore about Zandalus? Do you know anything about his history? Where in the asylum can we find him? What is the significance of the yellow robes? Are the Apostles in Orpiment some delusional fantasy that they made up or is that a real cult?"
Winter shrugs, holding up her hands, "I've never laid eyes on him, but some of the survivors worked here before the uprising and earthquake. They say Zandalus was a mute man who suffered from horrible nightmares -- a poet and artist whose art was disturbing, but always seemed peaceful enough himself. All of that apparently changed, though."
"I can only guess at the goals of Zandalus and his Apostles in Orpiment -- amid all the chaos and destruction, we've been focused solely on survival."
"We have enough supplies to last maybe a week, or a few days more if we stretch rations. That's assuming the Apostles, or something worse, don't find us first. We've been blessed with the security of the chapel and our relative isolation, but that can't last. And then there's the weather... thunder like laughter, rain like blood, and things scampering in the mists."
She sighs, frowning, but looks at you both earnestly. "We need a way out. That's where you two come in. All things considered, you seem very capable. If you can find some route for us to escape, some path that doesn't lead straight into that terrible fog, I'll find that the Royal Accusers reward you very well. Please, you have to help us."
Ven takes the potion and then offers the remaining items to Aenian for storage in the haversack after describing each one. "The potion is the only thing I can use."
He raises an eyebrow when Winter describes the fog and the things within. "Yes, we saw the yellowish mists in the courtyard. We'll do what we can to help you and the others escape."
He dons his backback and loads his crossbow. "Well I suppose we better head back out."
Winter nods, "By clearing the western halls, we have a little breathing room. Take Vaustin, if he'll go with you again. I would join you, but I think it best I stay with the other survivors, at least until we know better what lies in the rest of the asylum."
"I will provide whatever healing and assistance I can. You are our best at surviving this catastrophe. As long as the others are safe and secure, your mission is the priority." She turns to Aenian, asking, "Will you now allow me to heal some of your wounds?"
"Um, maybe you just stay on your side of the room, crazy eyes," Aenian shies back away from her and then tries to distract.
"So what's that strange red wall" Aenian also glances at the door behind Winter, "Can't say I'm interested in going through the mist, there has got to be another way around this Asylum"
Ven sighs and shrugs at Winter. "Yes, well, we had better see about this wall then. What can you tell us about it?"
Winter nods and leads you back into the hallway. After ensuring the hall is clear of others, she pulls back the dingy, red curtain. The wall beyond suffers from some sort of otherworldly parasitism. A mass of stringy, yellow fungus stretches across the stone blocks, completely warping and blocking the doorway it covers. At its heart bulges and blinks a watery eye the size of a wagon wheel. It moans and sobs, weeping softly. Yellowish tears splatter the floor, filling the air with a strong ammonia scent.
The floor rocks with a slight tremor.
Winter flinches slightly at the sight of the weeping wall. "I... I don't know what it is. It appeared after the destruction, but it hasn't bothered us and we've left it alone. Don't tell the others about it, though. I don't want to upset the children or any of our more delicate souls. Things are bad enough without that."
Ven will cautiously approach the wall. He will cast detect psychic significance and detect magic on the area.
Ven senses no magic or psychic significance from the mass. The eye continues to ooze as it weeps and whimpers.
Aenian jumps at the sight
"What in the gods' name is that! How ... ugh, gross!"
He will step forward behind Ven, reaching out tentatively with his dagger to poke at the wall. Trying to reign in his emotions, he attempts to analyze a couple things
"It has no mouth, how is it making that sound?"
As Aenian pokes it, the fungus-mass spasms and twitches, and it wails in pain. The eye's pupil sprouts fangs and it snaps at Aeninan, chomping hard onto his hand.
; ;
The tiny wound Aenian caused immediately heals. The eye-mouth screams, "Who am I become!?" in three overlapping, drowned-sounding voices. Ammonia tears fall freely.
"Damn it!" Aenian jumps back ripping his mauled hand out of the creature's maw.
He holds it in his hand and spits back, "You've become a creepy eye mouth thing that bites people!"
Staying safely away from the wall, Ven will try to talk to the wall. "What are your names? What happened to you? How can we help you?"
The wall makes no reaction to Ven's words. The eye-mouth thrashes for a few moments, snapping at air now that you are both out of reach. It then retracts and resumes its whimpering drone.
Aenian pulls the other two back to assess.
"So it asks us, "Who am I become?" Is that a clue? Does it really want to know the answer. I told it verbally, and I ignored it. Any other ideas?"
Winter shakes her head, bewildered. "I don't know what that thing even is. I'd never heard it speak before, either. It just sobs and moans, constantly."