Why did I agree to come on this ridiculously dangerous journey when I was nearly depleted of my magic already? Malthazir wonders to himself as he fires another ball of acid.
No stranger to poison and disease, the Aegean knew contracting some form of malady from the rodents was likely. I hadn't thought the wildlife would be affected as well...
Why? Do you feel the natives beneath you?
Enough...
Truk'tosh feels dizzy for a moment but shakes off the effects of the disease. Gruskorb isn't so lucky and the disease begins to fester in the wounds he received from the undead rats.
Niyut emerges from the shadows and hurls a vial of liquid ice over the swarm, harmlessly breaking on the street. Elannaris and Malthazir take their time and achieve a better result as both hit the undead rats with their attacks causing some minor damage.
The swarm of rats screeches loudly and becomes incorporeal, then moves through the door into the stables and engulfs Garidan and Truk'tosh.
As the rodent swarm suddenly appears through the closed door and engulfs him and Truk'tosh in a tide of hazy forms, Garidan yelps in shock and instinctively swings his drawn blade through the bodies. His shock becomes greater still as the rapier passes harmlessly through the rodents, and he hears his sister yelling at him.
"Get away from them Gari, you can't stop them!"
Garidan is wordlessly nodding in agreement and already in the process of stepping away when a sudden wave of weakness nearly brings him to his knees. Finding the weight of his pack suddenly much more than he can easily bear, Garidan uses a shaking hand to unlatch of the quick-release buckles and let the ladden pack drop to the ground. He then scrambles back from the intangible swarm on weak legs. As he retreats, Garidan finds his eyes drawn to the ramp leading up, and after a split second's thought, bypasses it and heads toward the small door further back, where he slumps and takes a moment to catch his breath. "What in the names of all the gods and goddesses was that," Garidan gasps exhaustedly. However, even in his current condition, his mind is already at work, trying to figure out what's going on with that rodent mass.
Mind hard at work trying to figure out something that will let the party prevail against those damnable rodents, Garidan decides now would be a really good time to give voice to a quick prayer to his patron, on the off chance that the Eagle is paying some attention to mortal affairs today.
"Mighty Calwein, hear the urgent petition of your humble follower. I do righteous battle against the unholy spawn of your brother, and find myself sorely pressed, with my allies in need. Please see fit to grant your aid in this fight, that we may prevail and go on to do what is needed of us to stop your brother's plans to finish the world's end."
The main stable has 3 smaller stalls and one larger stall on this level. The rafters of the vaulted ceiling 2 stories above support a thatched roof. The larger stall is empty while the smaller ones contain a horse, an oxen and a dead horse upon which the zombie had been feasting. A small door along the eastern wall leads out of the main stable. A pair of double doors with open windows leads to a storage room for the animal feed comprised of various grains and hay.
Along the north wall is a wooden ramp that turns south along the east wall and leads to a higher level above the back rooms.
Garidan remembers a story told by the priests of Calwein of a swarm of undead rats called 'Shadow Rats' that can become incorporeal at will but cannot do physical harm while in that state. They can drain your strength in either corporeal or incorporeal form. Only a magical weapon can affect them while incorporeal.
"Mighty Calwein, hear the urgent petition of your humble follower. I do righteous battle against the unholy spawn of your brother, and find myself sorely pressed, with my allies in need. Please see fit to grant your aid in this fight, that we may prevail and go on to do what is needed of us to stop your brother's plans to finish the world's end."
You hear a booming voice in your head. "So, now you come to me asking for favor in your time of need. Prove your worth to me, then perhaps I shall grant you my blessing."
Seeing the ghostly rats pouring through the door, Truk gasps briefly before he howls in pain again. The weight of his weapon suddenly becomes almost too much to bear.
"We can't flee from this thing. We have to fight it", he warns Garidan. "Get the door open!"
Back to the door, Garidan frowns momentarily as he hears his patron's response. Fortunately, a wordless mental nudge in warning from his sister keeps him from a reflexive response that his patron would take ill, at best. Instead, he straightens up with a groan and transfers his rapier to his shield-side hand, freeing the first in preparation for unlimbering his flail. "As you command, mighty Calwein, so shall I do," Garidan instead mutters.
He then glances back at the rodents when Truk'tosh calls out to him, and the second, calmer look at the swarm is enough to get his rattled thoughts into order, all!owing him to recall a story about a particular type of undead pest that matches all too well to what they face right now. His thoughts are still a bit scattered, however, and he can only recall a few particulars of the story.
Truk'tosh bolts back outside as quickly as his sluggish limbs will take him and fires off another blast of radiance from his inherited holy symbol.
Though an excellent reflex with his wrist, the swarm of rats was posing more a problem than he thought. Not merely something to be ignored. Their infected bite began working its way into the Aegean's blood, while the rising panic in the group was beginning to ebb his nerves.
You cannot rely on man-made devices to fix all things.
Then what would you have me do, spirit?!
Look inward. Think of the basic elements.
The pulse of positive energy from Truk'tosh causes the rats to squeal in pain, however, it was not as effective as he had hoped.
Did they just go through that wall? Malthazir looks on in confusion for a moment and then lets fly another blast.
Malthazir throws another glowing orb of acid at the swarm but instead hits the wooden sign hanging above the stable entrance.
A distance voice in Malthazir's head reminds him that the disease the Shadow Rat Swarm carries is Filth Fever which has a frequency of 1/day and an effect of 1d3 dex and 1d3 con damage. It takes a standard action to move from corporeal to incorporeal form. It prefers corporeal as it can feast on the flesh of the living and cause hp damage, but takes incorporeal form to avoid impediments or to escape. It also has Shadow Blend which allows it to disappear into the shadows gaining total concealment in all levels of illumination save bright light. Strong necromatic magic would be required to create such an undead.
The element that came first to Gruskorb's mind was fire. But fire burns us all? Is there something else?! His eyes glanced about the place; he recalled it was his keen sight that saw the rats, allowing them to respond swiftly in the first place.
Frustrated at the riddles, he thought to the spirit. What did you expect me to fight them with? The air!?
He threw up a hand in defeat as he drew back to defend himself, but at the zenith of his hand's arc, the remarkable happened.
A bolt of lightning flew from his fingers! Well, not lightning really ... more of a spark ... but still.
Do not doubt. The world will take care of itself, with or without him.
... with is good.
Gruskorb surprises himself by unleashing a electrical charge at the Shadow Rat Swarm hitting it squarely. Several rats sizzle with the jolt and die, but the swarm continues.
Elannaris pulls out another acid to throw at the rat swarm but waits hoping that it may turn back into a sold, physical form.
"No! Brother!!"
Niyut screams and hurls a ethereal ball of ice and snow at the mass of rats nearly dispersing the swarm but it quickly coalesces. With the door no longer as an impediment it returns to a physical form and continues toward Truk'tosh with the intent to devour the half-orc. But as it does so, Elannaris steps forward and hurls another vial of acid at the swarm. When the vial shatters, the acid destroys many of the shadow rats, and the remaining few dissolve into the shadows.
As the group looks to each other in disbelief, Garidan and Truk'tosh stare intently at the mass of shadow rats now lying motionless on Dragon Street and notice a slight shimmer of light emitting from the rats. While very noticeable to them at first, the pulses of light are beginning to fade quickly.
"We must flee from other monsters like that; I can feel my cuts burning. Their filth will cause illness!"
Stumbling out of the stable's interior on unsteady legs, flail gripped tightly in one hand and rapier in the other, Garidan looks closely at what remains of the horrid swarm, noting the fading pulses of light. It takes him a few tries to get his voice working properly, but Garidan manages to call to the others, rapier pointed at the shattered rodent remains. "Something is happening with these remains, and I believe it best if someone with a bit more knowledge than myself take a look before whatever it is has come to a stop!"
Niyut tries to extract what she suspects may be an essence.
"Mage, I think this might be useful to us. Please help."
Upon hearing Garidan's call for assistance, Niyut examines the remains of the Shadow Rat Swarm. Her hunch pays off when she realizes that the remnants of some ethereal energy is present. She calls upon her divine powers as an oracle and casts a seldom used orison that she had been taught by the elders of her tribe in her youth but before today had never put to use.
As she says the prayer, a small ball of energy forms in her hands and pulses a swirling light which coalesces into the single, small crystal she now holds.
"I'm sorry, Gruskorb. While I know some minor healing prayers, I do not understand the ways of disease. However, perhaps one of our companions knows something of the healer's ways."
With a weary grunt, Garidan stows his weapons and leans against the closed outer door of the stable, simply watching as Niyut casts an odd spell, his eyebrows twitching upward in surprise as he build the end result. He then looks at Gruskorb while pointing back into the stable. "Well, seeing as how we fought for it, and quite hard at that, we shoukd at least take the time to secure our prizes before finding someplace safe to rest up amd recover."
Garidan shifts away from the door, then swings it open before walking slowly over to his dropped pack, which he contemplates with a sour expression. "No idea what condition they're in, and I'm not too keen on getting close enough to find out right now, but there's a horse in one stall and an ox in another." Grabbing his pack by the straps, he struggles to lift it, eventually managing the feat with considerable effort. Voice heavy with strain, he continues as he carries the pack to the travois. "I recommend we get the beasts, whatever tack and gear best suits our needs, and as much fodder as they can haul, then find a nice temple to lie up in. I feel the need to be surrounded by holiness just now," Garidan says with a sigh of relief as he finally gets his pack onto the travois.
"I'm sorry, Gruskorb. While I know some minor healing prayers, I do not understand the ways of disease. However, perhaps one of our companions knows something of the healer's ways."
The rogue clutched his wound and he returned his weapon to his belt. "I'll be better in time, worry not." He gave his best attempt at a wry smile given the dire circumstances they were in. "Let us be on our way now you've found the power in those rats; I can't imagine any living person would be found living near things like those."
Truk'tosh groans and staggers, the strength sapped from his normally powerful limbs. "I... don't feel well."
Malthazir looks at the the ethereal power with curiosity, examining it like an experiment. "Yes." He says absentmindedly. "These kind of rats have a disease that onsets over the course of several days. Is anybody here a skilled healer?" He inquires.
While the others try to figure who amomg them, if anyone, is familiar with the healer's arts, Garidan decides to make a start of locating and gathering equipment from the stables. After a bit of thinking, he elects to start on the upper level first, figuring that things useful for people are more likely to be there. With a deep breath, and a firm hand on his rapier--or as firm as can be managed after those damnable rodents touched him, anyway--Garidan moves up the ramp, eyes and ears both working to their utmost to discern any sign of another attack.
As he walks, 'Ruza's stone is darting back and forth along its orbit, as she tries to add her own senses to those of her brother. Finally, the rapidly shifting light causes Garidan to reach up and gently stop the ioun torch, which twitches faintly in his hand. "'Ruza, all of this back and forth is starting to make me a touch nauseous, would you please calm down," he asks softly.
"I'm sorry, Gari," his sister quickly apologizes, "But I'm just trying to make sure that there aren't any more of those awful rats hiding in here."
In a much quieter voice, 'Ruza continues. "They almost got you, Gari. It was so close. And that Calwein wouldn't even lift a finger to help." The last is said with a tone of faint, but definite outrage, which grows stronger as 'Ruza voices her displeasure with her brother's patron. "It's not as though he has all that many followers left after today, that he can just ignore one in need, you know?"
In reponse, Garidan shrugs as he releases the ioun torch. "I'll admit, it rankles more than a little that I had to prove myself before he would grant his aid in such a desperate situation. But he is a god, 'Ruza, and grants or withholds his power as he sees fit. And, honestly, I'm surprised he deigned to respond at all," Garidan says thoughtfully as he reaches the top of the ramp. "In light of all that has happened today, I rather figured Calwein would be just a mite too busy to hear me, much less answer. Which, come to think of it, is probably why he required that I prove myself worthy first. He must be expending a lot of power trying to contain this mess with the rest of Ealintaine, and doesn't feel like wasting any measure of it where it won't actually contribute to the solution in a useful way."
The only response from his sister is a soft grunt indicating reluctant agreement with his point, and Garidan smiles faintly as he looks around, trying to figure where exactly to begin his searching.
Garidan trudges up the ramp and looks about. He stands on a balcony overlooking the stable below. Several hooks line the wall to the east, only a lasso remians of any tools that may have been here. On his left, a pair of rickety double doors leads east to a small grassy enclosure. He can see the main road beyond the pen.
After finding little of value here, he returns to the lower level and checks the back rooms. The smaller door on the east wall leads to a storage room. Here, Garidan finds two saddles with blankets, two bridles, another set of tackle (clearly for the oxen) and several other grooming tools for the animals. The pair of double doors on this level also lead to another storage room and workshop. A small forge and a set of blacksmithing tools dominate the northern side of the room while a mound of hay and a barrel of grain rests near the southern wall. A single-axle cart sits in the middle of the room. Numerous horseshoes lie about the room.
After his search of the stables, Garidan returns to the travois, humming rather happily. The results of his search have proven to be rather pleasing, to him at least. If nothing else, that little cart will prove quite useful, even if the group has to haul it and its contents. Equally satisfying, though a bit less immediately useful, is the forge. Though not all it will be portable--the hearth used for heating the metal to a working temperature will be fixed, due to its use--the pieces that can be moved will be quite handy. And for heating metal, there are ways to manage that in the field without a hearth, if one is sufficiently well-read and creative to come up with alternatives. Further, the group may well get a bit of luck and find one of the portable hearths made for use by longhaul caravans and armies.
Still humming, Garidan slowly drags the travois into the stable, past his companions who have apparently settled the issue of a healer for their ailments and are now figuring out what to do with that bit of glowing something that Niyut got from the Shadow Rats--and thinking of those rsts, Garidan reminds himself to make a note of the encounter in his journal, along with telling the others what he knows of them. He drags the travois into the larger storage room, leaving it next to the cart, and take a seat in the cart's bed to catch his breath. Before doing anything further, he'll need Truk'tosh to get the animals sorted and calmed, then quite a bit of help to get the cart properly loaded and ready to go.
As the survivors of the cataclysm regroup, their minds turn to the East Gate they seek and what little they know of the underground mountain pass.
As Garidan left to search the area, Gruskorb looked to the siblings. "This magical power ... it comes naturally to you? Or is it the working of a spirit inside you like me? I never learned how to jolt things ... but still I did."
[dice=Know(Local)]1d20 + 6
As Garidan left to search the area, Gruskorb looked to the siblings. "This magical power ... it comes naturally to you? Or is it the working of a spirit inside you like me? I never learned how to jolt things ... but still I did."
Though he'd gotten a good scratch, the thought was exciting. I never had the chance to be a magician... Compounding the excitement was knowledge he had of riches below...
"It's said there are plentiful metals in the mines below here. We are in clear need of supplies. Might be worth looking."
"Twins are always magic. Spirits are like gods. Just because they exist doesn't mean one should believe in them. It gives them the wrong idea."
Niyut whispers to Gruskorb.
As Niyut spoke, the crystal she extracted from their threat drew Gruskorb's eyes. It shone with a teal light. Aquamarine ... it's worth more than its weight in gold. Yet the avaricious rogue felt a tug beyond mere greed...
That is the part of the world's spirit. It calls to you, senses your own, not defiled yet. Touch it.
Gruskorb looked to Niyut, hearing her advice. We are all blind here though.
"Maybe. But the spirit speaking to me has not done me wrong yet." This was something, Gruskorb, realized, he could not say about many. Nor myself in most cases. "Can I touch it?"
The Aegean's rough hand poked at one of the facets, and the crystal emitted a spark of light, depleting into his arm. Keen eyes noticed a hint of the turquoise energy jet down the coil of his whip, blinking once at the end before disappearing.
Gruskorb did not see that, but he felt it.
You have a bond to that weapon. Use it well.
Though he had no way of confirming it, he sensed the spirit was right.
"The energy came to me. It will help me." He paused. "Maybe some of it will call to you too."
The ethereal energy of the crystal infuses itself to Gruskorb's whip enhancing the weapons power especially against the undead.
Truk'tosh watches his sister's ritual and the process of the resulting essence bonding with Gruskorb's whip with fascination, only reaching, weakly, for the arms of the travois once it's done.
"We need to find a place to take shelter. I don't know what those shadows did to me but I'm not certain I travel much longer today."
Truk'tosh tries to take his mind off his condition by tending to the unfortunate animals.
Truk'tosh and Garidan discuss the newly found cart and animals when the half-Orc notices the saddles and tack loaded on the cart. He eyes the yok and quickly surmises that some of the tackle is meant for the oxen to pull the cart. He and Garidan quickly put it to use, hooking up the beast.
Unsure of where safety could be found, the group trudges along the Dragon Road toward the East Gate. With the shortcuts and the stairs no longer an option due to the cart, they keep in wary eye out for danger. After winding back and forth several times, the road turns due east and widens to a large, steep boulevard that leads to the mountains above. Beyond the crest of the hill, 200 feet in front of the group, the glow of several fires can be seen. Perched on the base of the mountain just above the rise of the hill, the massive form of a dragon can be seen. The dragon remains eerily still with its mouth open, slowly dripping fire from his lower jaw.
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It takes a little time for Elannaris to recover from the shock and horror of the creatures and soon after Nyiut discovered the strange essence. Somehow she knew about it, even if she never read or seen anything like this before... or did she?
At the ask for help, Elannaris approached Gruskorb and Truk'tosh to look at their wounds and trying to identify what sort of malady could be affecting them.
"Hum... my experience with medicine is more restricted to bruises and cuts, not really diseases but let me see what can I do..." Seeing Truk'tosh's injuries, she sighs. "... yeah... this is what I was talking about... I think I can help you more..." She then look for the strange stone that she was able to 'recover' from the old gnome's house and brought it in front of the half-orc... it was warm to her touch and pulsed slightly. After a few seconds yellowish strands of light left the stone, when it acquitted a topaz appearance, and healed her companion. After that, she almost dropped it. "...What? Why did I got this stone? I had no idea that it could do this so why? It is like something is guiding me..."
The rest passes uneventfully. The horse and oxen even seem more relaxed as they grow acustom to the group.
The group packs up the cart and starts again...