Revjak will wildly swing at the remaining undead monstrosity.
Revjak roars as he swings furiously at the creature. The first blow chops into its shoulder with a sickening crunch, and then he smashes it with the glaive end...
...but the zombie, horrifically wounded, continues to stand.
Carric attempts to finish off the remaining zombie.
Carric's arrow skewers the zombie through its eye socket...
The zombie reels but doesn't fall!
Piety smashes his fist into the creature.
As the zombie reels from Carric's arrow to the head, Piety steps forward to drive his fist into its head.
But it clings to undeath, a gurgling groan coming from its mouth!
Seeing his companions having a difficult time with the remaining zombie, Reynwyn rushes into the fray, the spectral feathers of his new shadow armor fluttering behind him. His ring gathers up some of the ambient light in the room as he points it directly into the face of the zombie and sends a black bolt of energy into the undead creature!
Reywyn's blast fires directly into the zombie's face, the third consecutive blow to the creature's head. The black bolt of energy takes the zombie's head with it, and even so, the undead thing claws at Piety for a moment more, its neck smoking, before it finally collapses to the ground.
As you all catch your breath after your exertions, you see that three of the zombies wear simple travelling clothes, while the last one to fall has scraps of chain armour, and an unused sword hanging at its belt. They look like a trio of merchants and an armed guard, probably captured by the goblins and left here to rot.
A swirling piece of parchment settles, and the room is still. From the shelves and masses of old books and parchment, you surmise that this must have once been a library in this forgotten temple. The stink is putrid, and strong, and now that the thrill of battle has subsided all of you but Revjak feel the need to cover your faces with your sleeve, or the top of your tunic.
Despite the rancid smell of this place, Reynwyn feels the urge to look over the accumulated material to see if there may be anything of value to find within the pages. (Or at least gather it up and remove it from the foul stench to look over when they have a few more moments!)
Unconcerned with the stench, Revjak rummages through the rotting library, looking for anything of interest. A book with an enticing cover, gold, items along those lines.
Reynwyn and Revjak set to searching the room.
On one of the zombies' bodies, Revjak finds a small pouch, with three tiny green gems in it . Reynwyn, on the other hand, finds a red-bound book, locked, and three wooden scroll cases under a collapsed bookshelf. Taking the scrolls out to examine them, Reynwyn can instantly recognises them as spell scrolls. Two of the spells are recognisable to the warlock - charm person and cloud of daggers, while the other is inscrutable. The book itself seems to hold arcane writings as well; though not useful to Reynwyn, such books are often worth a lot of coin. The front page of the spell book names it as the property of Lythis Mhairuun of Waterdeep.
Reynwyn spots the spellbook and scroll cases, taking immediate interest in the items. Two of the scrolls are extremely valuable to him, while the other is not it still holds intrinsic value. "I have found a spellbook and several scrolls. Two of them I can use in certain situations, the other I am not sure, but has the potential for profit. Also, this appears to be a spellbook; they can fetch quite the profit or it may hold some sentimental value to it's owner. I think I will seek them out once we return to Waterdeep." Unless there are any arguments, Reynwyn will take the two scrolls for himself to use and keep the other scroll and spellbook.
Revjak nods in approval.
"That is fair. The owner might also be grateful. Anyway, we should move on."
Reynwyn points to the bodies. "I have a feeling that one of these fellows was likely the owner." He nods to Revjak.
"Then his kin may care for it. And if not, it would be ours."
"Spellbooks are worth quite a bit of money, depending on the levels and numbers of spells."
"We must keep searching. We hunt for the lockbox!"
"Let us clear out the remainder of the east wing at the split. It seems that most enemies have been cleared out as evidence by our unmolested rest; however, with the existence of those zombies, I fear that we may more surprises such as that in store for us." Unless there is any argument or dissension, Reynwyn will head towards the first split the group encountered, keeping his eyes and eyes aware of any noises he may hear.
"That is not an unreasonable suggestion Reynwyn."
Carric joins Reynwyn in his search.
With nowhere else to explore in this area of the complex, the party heads back out to the main entrance tunnel. The tunnels seem eerily quite and empty... which may be a good thing.
"Let us try the areas we have not yet explored."
Reynwyn nods to Revjak and begins moving forward through the darkened hallway towards what lies ahead with a confident stride. Throughout your time with Reynwyn, you have noticed him to have a quiet confidence that he carries about himself and that confidence had been shaken the night of the ambush. However, since that moment and his numerous successful endeavors he seems to have regained it a bit.
At some point while moving, Revjak turns to Reynwyn with an approving look, while still keeping an eye out.
"You have found new heart, and it shows. It is good to see."
Reynwyn chuckles a bit. "That transparent, am I?" He pauses a moment to glance over at Revjak. "If I am to be honest, Revjak, that night of the ambush I was terrified. I have always been so confident in my destiny, but when that arrow pierced my chest and I heard the shouts and screams of the other guards, I thought perhaps I was wrong." He allows a little smirk. "But I think perhaps it was just a test. We are destined for greater things than to die alone at the hands of goblins."
Carric smiles...Glad to see you with some newfound confidence. We need it.
"Death is the single greatest terror that exists. It should be defeated at all costs."
With Piety's incongruous comment hanging in the air, Reynwyn and Carric peer around the corner to the north. The corridor stretches on into the darkness, and some way up it branches to the west. More interestingly, some 50 feet on to the north the passageway appears to open up into a chamber... a chamber that flickers with an eldritch green glow.
Revjak eyes the glow suspiciously.
He whispers:
"Do any of you know what that glow portends?"
I leave that to you, Reynwyn, but it looks arcane in nature.
Carric moves forward quietly to the north towards the room.
I say we take a better look.
Carric moves forward stealthily, past the corridor to the west (which, as Carric reaches it, obviously leads back to the goblin common room). As he approaches the room, he sees that it is dominated by a large stone pool, three feet high and twenty feet across, right in the centre of the circular chamber. The water glows with a flickering, green light. Opposite the archway on the party's side of the room is a wooden door, hanging open. On the floor, a hint of mist seeps out of the room and curls about Carric's ankles. The silence feels heavy, like before a storm breaks.
Revjak pads forward just behind Carric, itching for an enemy he can see.
And that he can swing at.
But for the green glow and the eerie mist, neither Carric nor Revjak see anything of interest.
Revjak growls softly.
"We must press forward if we wish to see anything!"
If Carric begins to move, he will follow. If Carric does not begin to move soon, Revjak will advance in there.
Reynwyn peeks around the others to get a better look at the strange phenomena. "Interesting..." He has a difficult time looking over the larger men's shoulders. "If you gentlemen would not mind stepping to one side to allow me a closer look."
Once/if Revjak and Carric allow Reynwyn to take Carric's position, but stays out of the room for the moment. He will take a moment to examine the pool from a distance. If he is unable to recall/recognize anything about it, he will telepathically send Jareth flying into the room to see if anything happens.
Piety will move up and take a look at the room, peering over Revjak's shoulder.
Not the most patient of men, Revjak moves up to near the pool, to Carric's right. He peers at the pool, it vaguely reminding him of old tales.
Revjak looks thoughtful, then starts speaking as if reciting something he heard from memory:
"There was once a sorcerous pool filled with hot, green water in a cave otherwise frozen and filled with demons of ice..."
He breaks off.
That was the beginning of the tale, but I heard it long ago and recall little else, except that it was a warning tale of the horrors of unnatural magic. We must be wary of the pool."
Reynwyn steps back from the waters. "Yes, this definitely appears to be a summoning circle of some sorts. The green waters make me ill at ease and the fact that this was within a temple of Shar... Perhaps we should attempt to destroy it? Revjak, Piety, do you think you could break this outer wall here?" He indicates the circular wall. "It is far too perfect to be anything other than a summoning circle."
"Done!", Revjak bellows, while powering the head of his glaive at the outer wall of the pool.
"Some sort of primitive magics here, although given it's power level, I wouldn't be too concerned."
"Done!", Revjak bellows, while powering the head of his glaive at the outer wall of the pool.
Revjak smashes both ends of his glaive into the low wall of the pool with all of his might, but when he steps back the results are minimal - the blade has left a slight scratch on the stonework, while the butt end has made no obvious impression at all. Revjak glances at his blade, and while he is happy to see it is not significantly damaged, it is slightly blunted in one place and could do with a good sharpening next time he rests.
Staring at the glaive blade, Revjak exclaims in annoyance.
"Bah! Do any of you have a hammer or club to hand? Or Piety, your fists?"
Staring at the glaive blade, Revjak exclaims in annoyance.
"Bah! Do any of you have a hammer or club to hand? Or Piety, your fists?"