The holy symbol is a birthmark on her forehead.
You follow the man in the doctor's coat through the growing throng, nothing many of the men eyeing the group with wariness, particularly the larger than usual Campus. Perhaps due to this doctor holding sway, or maybe due to their obviously downtrodden nature, the group does not bar your way.
The doctor leads you to a large tented area in the northeast corner of the room. There are nearly a dozen men and women in here in various states of disrepair. Some show slings over broken limbs, more than one lies in a deep slumber, and nearly all show bloody bandages.
As soon as you enter the tent and the flaps close, the man ushers you aside to speak in a harsh whisper. What are you thinking? I don't know who you are, but you've got to be insane to just come walking in here as if you're at the local bakeshop for a pastry. Who are you?
Campus stands tall and ignores his question and asks one instead Who are these that appear so pitiful and in such need of a God's healing? Let them come close, and if there is no great evil in them, I will bless them with Cayden's Gift, healing them of their wounds.
Ramul stares at Campus for a moment before saying to the man, "We're survivors of the asylum, just like you. We just happened to have survived in a more hospitable part of the asylum, it seems. We came to investigate the situation and hopefully provide some sort of resolution. My name is Ramul. And who might you be?"
"Where else's we 'sposed t'go??? In case ya ain't noticed, it ain't exactly sailin' weather, brother!"
The doctor eyes Campus somewhat suspiciously, then nods. These here within this tent are my patients. Most were injured in the collapse of the second floor, though some were...afterwards. I treat them as best as I may, but of course any assistance would be appreciated.
He turns to Ramul. I'm Doctor Wren Elbourne. I study and treat diseases of the mind. I only started working at Briarstone a week ago, and was excited for the job...hard to believe now.
He sighs at Cerio. You're not wrong there, I'll give you that. The area is a bit dangerous.
Listening to the conversation, Ulfric decides to get right to it. "I am Ulfric. We came here to investigate one Zandalus and what he is doing with his Apostles in Orpiment. From what we have gathered, this is... a settlement of his."
Doctor? Eh, it'd be more helpful to have one that specializes in the body now! Klassalka injects rudely.
But better than nothing!
Elbourne quickly looks around, and leans in closer to be heard in a harsh whisper. I hope for your sake that I'm the only one you've told of this. Zandalus is this lot's leader and the one responsible for all of this. I hear he used to be just a quiet artist who had bad dreams. I don't know how else to explain it, but something let his dreams loose. He convinced a bunch of patients that he's some sort of prophet and that he can led them to the land of dreams. That was enough to start a riot. Soon after, those strange mists rose outside and an earthquake caused much of the asylum to fall apart. We've been trapped here ever since.
How can I help your investigation?
He looks nervously about, as if he had forgotten where he was before uttering such a thing.
Just point us where this Zandalus may be found.
Ramul glances at Campus again before addressing the doctor once more. "I'm glad the patients have someone to care for them. What can you tell us about Zandalus? Or rather, Zandalus as he is now? How many guards does he have? Any other defenses?"
You...you can't go up there...you'll be slaughtered. Elbourne seems to choke on the thought for a moment, then sighs. He and his closest followers keep to what remains of the halls upstairs. No one is allowed up there, though. Zandalas's thugs stand guard, but worse, that weird mist collects up there like a snake in a hole. Who knows what they do in that fog? But, we all hear the chanting and screaming...even though we try not to.
Zandalas now is very different, though I've only really seen him once or twice after whatever happened here. He seems a man possessed by a vision, though of what or by whom, I have no idea. The bag lady is up there too...and you don't want to run foul of her!
Does this mist choke, or spell one? What does it do?
"Woah! Woah! Wooooah!" Cerio waves his hands in the air. "Ya cain't just dump that much information on a man all at aince! Now back up..."
He makes a fist and sticks out one finger. "First off, what's that dream land yer talkin' 'bout?"
He lift a second finger. "Two: what thugs? How many? Wieldin' what?"
A third. "Number three: who's screamin'? Are folks drug up there 'gaint their will?"
Another finger. "Fourth: who's that bag lady? Why don't we wanna run 'foul of her?"
Elbourne nods, and closes his eyes as if pained. He squeezes the bridge of his nose. I'm sorry, you're right. Sometimes I feel as if this place is getting to me.
He turns to Campus. From what I gather, Zandalus has found some way to breach the border between dreaming and wakefulness. The fog is a result; it's like a spillover from whatever dream realm he's tapped into. But the fog isn't the problem, it's the things that come along with it. Weird things, like from nightmares. The worst seem content to keep to the fob, but I've seen strange forms slip into the asylum - figures I can't rightly describe.
With a faint smile, he looks to Cerio. I wish I knew more about it, but the images in it are frightening. Have you slept yet in this place? Visions of a gaunt thing in yellow rags hunting you...everyone reports it the same. There's some connection, but I don't know how Zandalus has done it. People here call the horrid creature "The Tatterman."
The thugs are those most loyal to Zandalus. If I had to guess at a count, there've been a dozen or more that have gone up there. But...well, the screaming...if that's them, they could be less by now I guess.
The bag lady is Aggra Loomis. She's one of the asylum's only truly dangerous patients. She killed nine men in Rozenport over forty years ago. They called them the bag lady murders, since she always wrapped up her victim's faces. Apparently, she passed between prisons and hospitals, but finally ended up here. She's got to be nearly 70 now, but she's still strong as a devil! Those bodies with the bagged heads out there are those that refused to don the Apostle's yellow robes when we found out that we couldn't get through the fog or the western halls, which are flooded by ghouls.
Ulfric mulls everything over then asks, "What can we do to move about here freely? And are there any places that you would recommend we continue searching for a way out? If nothing else can come of exploring around here then we will likely need to confront Zandalus."
Elbourne licks his lips as he looks about the tent, as if searching for anyone who could overhear. Somewhat confident, he turns back to Ulfric.
Look, you seem like you might be strong enough to take out some of Zandalus's guards, but there's bound to be an army of them. Even if you beat them all, Zandalus himself is still locked away in that maze of fog upstairs with his other trusted guards. So, it seems to me, the only way to get out of here is to get rid of that mist - and I have a hint of how.
Zandalas calls his most devoted acolytes his oneirogens. Most stay locked with hum upstairs, but at least one watches over the northwestern tower. I don't know what he does up there, but I think he's alone. If you got to him, you could probably wring some of Zandalas's secrets out of him, maybe even learn how to get rid of this awful mist. Once it's gone, what you do about Zandalas is up to you.
Sure. But you are coming with us.
The Doctor's eyes widen in fear, then he clears his throat. I'm afraid I cannot, miss. Were I to leave my post here in this tent, word would travel up to Zandalas within minutes. His people are not about to lose their one and only "Doctor."
Ramul finds himself agreeing with the doctor. He interjects, "I have to agree with him, Campus. It might be nice to have him with us, but these patients need him. That's maybe the one and only thing we can agree with Zandalus on.
"I think we should be able to handle this acolyte on our own. We've been through more than one scrape already and come out alright."
"He will do more good here tending the people than with us." Ulfric agrees with Ramul. "If that is our only option, which as far as I can tell it is, let us get on with it."
Ulfric will lead the way to the North West Tower, asking for directions from Elbourne is required.
"You got anything might help us along th' way?" Cerio asks Elbourne. "Weapons? Any more advice? Any weaknesses of that oneirogen?"
I'm afraid I don't even understand what the oneirogens are. I had never heard of one until this madness began.
He nods resignedly. I can help...I was hoping to save some of these for the more wounded of my patients. Here are some potions that may help. I've a wand that can heal as well, but I need that here. I will give it to you upon your successful return.
After your discussion with Elbourne, he leads you out of the tent and to the northwest corner of the large room. As you pass through the misty chamber, you note that there's not much organization to this rabble. Sure, there are hard-eyed cultists that seem ready to confront you, but the majority of those within merely look lost and hopeless.
You arrive at a set of single doors leading to the west. Each one is barred heavily from the inside, and Elbourne works quickly to unsecure them, casing glances back into the fog as he does.
Now, beyond here is the kitchen...it's a mess from what I've heard. Some have also reported that it's haunted, but since most in here are already mad, well.... He shrugs, then pushes open the door. With a glance inside, he ushers you quickly through, into the large kitchen.
A row of fireplaces stand among heaps of barrel-sized pots and cooking implements in this ruin of a kitchen. Numerous doors lead to the south, east, and west, while multiple corners of the L-shaped room have collapsed. A line of large rocks deliberately cordons off the westernmost door.
"Well, snuff!" Cerio curses as he pockets the potion vials. "I guess we's as much as in the dark as 'afore. I 'spose it's too much t'hope for some chow in this sty." He glances around the room, inspecting the fireplaces from afar, and trying to sense the presence of magical auras. His whole body begins to glow, then he steps forward a step, leaving a flickering, green silhouette of himself where he stood before. The figure moves with eerie, jerky movements to stand beside him, casting its glow across the room.
Though Cerio detects nothing magical, the glow of his lights show some movement to the west. Over the kitchen's westernmost fireplace...which is cold...rattles a large cauldron, the lid clattering with whatever boiling brew is within. The line of large rocks separates the eastern part of the room from the west, which contains said cauldron.
A ghost in the caldron..says every scary tell told a child.Let us open it an see maybe.
"Use yer spear," Cerio suggests to Campus, without offering up his own.
Campus grunts. Still in enlarged form, she pushes the lid with her elongated spear from 10 or 15 feet away.
All kitchens are haunted, the merfolk observes.
Ramul stands about 20 ft back from cauldron as Campus tries to lift the lid. He wants to be close enough to respond to anything hostile, but not close enough to be its first target.
"Please be careful, Campus. We have no idea what might be in there in a place like this."
Everyone gathers about the cauldron, watching as Campus offers herself up to whatever force animates the rattling lid. Once her spear comes close to it, the cauldron overturns and a vaporous, spectral image of a lean man's sobbing face pours forth, filling the area and then dissolving. The lid clatters to the ground among the mass, settling flat as mass dissolves. With the pungent odor of the mass, you'd imagine that had Campus been closer when that spilled, the effect would have been memorable.
After a few seconds of silence, one of the doors to the room to the south opens, a starch white face peering out. After a second passes, the door opens wider, to show a sturdy woman in an apron, the white on much of her appearing to be flour. My goodness, you scared me. I thought you were one of those things! She looks at the spilled cauldron. Don't track that in here now, it'll spoil the food!
"F-food?" In spite of the stench, Cerio's stomach gurgles, and he smacks his lips.
Let's hope its something we would be partial too...
Ulfric stands in readiness, simply watching the goings on.
When the woman and Cerio mention food, Ramul smiles. "I wouldn't mind some food if you have some to spare."
You seem...nice. Campus is more than suspicious, but allows herself to be hopeful. Ulfric might as well do that thing he does with the detect evil.
The woman looks a bit confused, particularly as Ramul smiles and seems to use manners. I...well, I'm sure we have something...out with the patrols are ya?
She opens the door wider to show you in, and you see that the room used to be a preparation room for the kitchen. Sizable cracks split the surface of the south wall, allowing the smoke of several small cooking fires to escape. Several doors exit the room, but two at the south end have been blocked by a waist high heap of debris.
Also in the room are four others - two appear to be guards and two cooks, all dressed in the now standard yellow. Several pots boil away, with what look like potatoes.
Well...we have potatoes at least...though we're soon ta' be out.
Yer sure you aren't meaning to boil us in that pot?
Why... She looks to her guards in surprise, as if they knew differently, then she swipes a hand across her forehead and only manages to mix flour with sweat. Um...no...or...have you been told that I'm supposed to? She leans forward with the last, as if asking in secret.
Campus, clearly tired of being overly cautious about everything. How are you? You seem settled, despite the madness that surrounds us. Are you well, old one?
The old woman smiles slightly, with a faraway look. Perhaps someone had called her that before. She opens her mouth to respond, but is interrupted by a loud slam on the barrier to the south. The guards jump even more than she, and she gives the man an admonishing look. Don't get too jumpy now, you'll spill the soup!
She turns back to Leeoli, as the sound to the south turns into a dim scratching sound. As well as I can be, in here eh? Running outta potatoes, but at least we're eating. You, um.... She looks at the odd form of Klassalka. ...fellas out on patrol?
One of the guards leans in a bit to listen.
"Yes," Ramul says to the woman. "We're doing our rounds when we noticed something amiss in here and stopped by. We can be out of your hair in short order if you would like us to leave."
Not exactly a lie, if 'rounds' meant going to the northwestern tower and 'stopped by' meant passing through on their way there.
You aren't perhaps, Zandalus? Suspicion arsing once again. She hated herself for it.
"He sees," Cerio says halfheartedly, lifting his yellow-sleeved hand about halfway in an unenthusiastic bid at zealotry.
The woman nods at Ramul, seeming to take the explanation as status quo. Her eyes widen at Campus, though, and she shakes her head vigorously. No, ah...he does...and though I don't know his plans, he'd not trust one so lowly as me with his likeness. She looks askance at the guards, as if wondering if this were some test and they were sneaking up to mete justice for a wrong answer.
You can stay if ya' want, but I hope you can peel potatoes if you do. Otherwise, we have enough guards in here for now.
"What's causing the ruckus back there?" Ulfric asks her, pointing to where the loud thump and the scratching were coming from.
Ramul takes the woman's words as an indication she wants them to leave. The kineticist waits for her reply to Ulfric's question, but then beckons his companions to continue to their destination if she doesn't seem to be in distress.
The woman looks back to the barricade somewhat nonchalantly - obviously not the first time this has happened. That's them ghouls that walk the western halls...it ain't safe out there for sure. They'll test the barricades every now and again - used to scare the wits out of me. Now...well, only so many times you can jump, you know?
You enter through the door to the west, and are greeted by a room that apparently once served as a station for orderlies, by the design. Now, it is partially collapsed, and the door in the north wall is open to the outside grounds, leaving the room thick with sickly yellow mist. As soon as you enter, a form charges you through the fog - short the ground but fast - no doubt on four legs. More growls can be heard low in the fog.
Cerio hops in a position where he can see better into the room. Rolling up his sleeves, he takes careful aim at the scittering critter with one of his black motes.