Tella waits for everyone to ready themselves, then casts the same spell she used on the door to lift up the blanket.
Thrashing around beneath the tarpaulin as Tella removes it, a stitched together collage of dead body parts - some form of large bovine mixed with a large insect - pulls the final strap free... and roaring, stands erect above Darc and Lord Varian... a rusted steel muzzle barely holds its mandibles in place as its heavy movements send the boat juddering...
Eyes widening, Tella places a hand on Darc.
"Pray this doesn't jostle this scow loose," she says as she imbues him with energy from the aether that has been shaped by her mind into the form of a giant.
Lord Varian moves up and smacks the creature, apparently not having learned from the last large creature he fought. He figures to deal some damage before the creature can react!
;
Lord Varian, rushing forwards to stop the threat of the stitchwork beast before it can truly break free, sets the monster reeling... and, in return, is slashed and cut twice by powerful bladed limbs - he is fortunate however, to be able to duck the attempt to grab him...
...whilst behind him, as he grows beyond the space of the cabins, Darc sneers - and launches a mighty flurry of blows...
Taking a pair of blows, Varian begins to bleed from the wounds he has received.
"Oh, I think you have bigger problems than me!" he laughs, pressing the assault. He spins as if making a roundhouse kick before suddenly swinging his opposite hand for a hook.
;
Elsie waits until the last possible moment before she darts in under Darc's legs and next to Varian. She smiles up at the grotesque constructed being, as she weaves her rapier in an odd motion before she lashes forth...
Tella focuses on the creature and tries to rip apart its psyche with her mind.
Tella's attempts to rend at the beast's mind are flawed from the outside, wretched and stitched together... the creature has no mind to call it's own...
It is of little consequence though, Eliseera and Lord Varian both smashing into the dreadful creation... long buried survival instincts take over as screeching, the monster turns around and starts to smash at the hull of the vessel. Shaking and quivering against the tethers holding the vessel against the pier, the boat complains at the terrible injury...
...seeing the stitchcrafted creation trying to escape, Darc looks to his companions.
Elsie mutters a curse under her breath, "That forsaken beast will sink us into the Lyme! Darc...STOP IT!"
"Foolish creature!" The nobleman rears back and swings another heavy fist, fearing the worst if he is unable to stop its attacks against this rickety home. ;
The floors here are remarkably clear however there are various stitchwork tools - drills, saws and large needles - in amongst the jars of specimens lining the walls here...
Seeing the threat, and knowing enough about the Great Lyme that he has no desire to end up in the poisoned waters, Lord Varian darts forward... seeing a weak spot on the beast's back, the agile dhampir slams a fist into the creature. This final strike, followed quickly by another devastating stab of Eliseera's rapier, is enough to stop the creature in its attempts to break free... Too stupid to realise that it is dead, it stops and stares at the damaged vessel walls for the moments before a tearing noise and the sound of popping stitches announces the undoing of the perverse creation. The two halves that made the beast divorce from each other in an almost comical manner collapsing in separate directions and leaking alchymical fluids onto the polished deck.
And now, over the incessant creaking of the vessel, a muffled voice can be heard, 'Please... please help me... please...". The pleading appears to be coming from beneath the throw in the corner of the room.
Tella lifts up the throw with a mage hand as soon as the others are ready.
The throw rises to reveal an appalling sight - the severed head of an ebony-skinned woman floating in a sealed glass jar filled with an amber fluid. Floating viscera trails from the ragged stump of her neck whilst her hair is a multitude of grey eel-like serpents that twist and writhe to fix their gaze upon Tella as the woman’s eyes suddenly flick open, though they close again just as suddenly. She is alive! She begins desperately mouthing pleas for help, her expression one of indescribable anguish and fear with her eyes clenched tightly shut.
Lord Varian can't help but recoil at the sight of the floating head. "By the gods!" He looks to the others, as if making sure they see what he's seeing. Then it occurs to him what this creature might be.
"Wait, snakes? Is that a medusa's head? Be careful not to gaze at her! Tella, drop that cover back!"
"A medusa? Are you...are you certain Varian?" Elsie stutters as the horrific visage greets her vision. "Even should it be such, we simply cannot allow it...HER to suffer so!" She turns he attention to Tella, "Is there any recourse to ending her suffering here, other than..." she raises the point of her rapier, pointing it at the covered head.
Whatever it is that is in the jar, Lord Varian really can't be sure... and as he suggests dropping the cover back on, the muffled voice complains, "Not a monster... it's not what it looks like. It was him that did this to me... the Grinder!!! You must let me go".
"Can you tell us what he did? I'd rather not hurt you because I didn't know something," Tella says. She doesn't replace the cloth, but it's there hovering above the jar if needed.
Obscured by the thickened glass, the head pleads, "He took me from the streets... kidnapped me and used me for his vile experiments... said he was keeping my head to stitch to something worthy" Even though the head's eyes are firmly closed, she seems to talk directly towards Tella, He even put the snakes in my hair... tore off what I had and replaced it with this nest of vipers!!! Please, you can't just leave me here..."
Something in the tone of the pleading...much like the tone she has used in her past when weaving her own falsehoods -- the dark part of her past-- triggers her to slowly shake her head, while mouthing the words 'Not true - She is lying'.
Tella, trusting Eliseera more than the disembodied head, covers the jar again.
No sooner has the throw covered the jar then the voice, even more muffled than it was before, starts to shriek obscenities at Tella and the group, "You mangy curs!!! You should have let me out... when I break my bonds I will hunt you down!!!" The threat is left hanging as the floor suddenly shifts, a whistling sound preceding a terrible cracking as one of the tethering ropes snaps under the strain of the boat's weight and the vessel shifts in its balance...
The only other door from this room creaks open as the floor slopes slightly... leading into what appears to be a study. The room is crammed with books and dominated by a fine roll-top desk. The complete skeleton of an ape hangs from a beam, its articulated bones held together by wire, and glass cases display two preserved and stuffed exotic birds. A ladder descends steeply into the gloom via a hole crudely broken in the floor.
"Definitely a medusa if you ask me, fodder for another one of the Organ Grinder's monstrous creations, no doubt." As the others negotiate, Varian works on his wounds once more with his wand.
Once everyone moves on, Lord Varian peers into the darkness, able to see a bit more than what his human persona ought to.
Tella thinks about using a mage hand to gather the blanket around the jar and carry it like a sack, but thinks better of it before following the others.
Seeing the skeleton, she decides that it might not be a bad idea to see if anything in here was magical.
Elsie nearly staggers into the wall of the vessel as the rope snaps, leaving the vessel one step closer to doom. "Yes, I wonder what hold such a foul man would have over it" She muses out loud as she eyes the contents of the study closely, especially the hole leading further down.
The muffled abuse continues as the group make their way into the Organ Grinder's study, Tella's instincts kick in and, stopping Lord Varian for a moment, she checks to see whether the skeleton hanging from the beams is likely animated... and, it is with some relief, that she discovers that it is entirely mundane - an anatomist's tool, a curio or some such thing.
Peering down into the gloom, it seems that the ladder descends 20 feet or so to an empty deck - where another ladder leads further down. The desk contains several ledgers that show that, over the past several months, the Organ Grinder has been ordering several tons of coal each week from Sallow & Son Coal and Timber Factors to be delivered to a single location. Each order for a barge load of coal and timber lists a charge of 100 gp, and there have been 15 total orders - the latest order is due for delivery tomorrow to the usual place: one of the great windmills at the mouth of the Lyme.
The desk has a very fine writing set and three bottles of Devil’s Wormwood absinthe, although only two of the bottles still contain a worm. Eliseera's abilities, ill gotten or not, allow her to see that the desk has a hidden cache, a door behind some removable shelving... and hidden within is is a small leather-bound book.
"This may prove useful..." Elsie murmurs softly as she extracts the book from its hiding place. Handing the book to Varian she adds, "'Ware any magical auras on this tome."
"Let me see. . ." Lord Varian feared revealing all his magical abilities, but obviously his use of the wand had already revealed some talent. He takes a look over the book and room for sources of magical power.
The book, bound in the softest goatskin, contains a curious codex of sigils, runes and oddly disturbing drawings... it doesn’t give off any aura, magical or otherwise, and so the group take a few minutes – whilst Darc watches for anyone approaching from below – to deduce what it is. Fairly quickly, Lord Varian sees it for what it is – a rudimentary guide to the art of creating Made, of stitching the dead together and remaking them… Entitled ‘The Secret of Creation’, the tome is probably worth more than a thousand gold coins to the right customer…
"Well, that explains a lot, a book on the creation of these monstrosities. Not for the faint of heart." Varian shares with whomever wants to review.
"We may also have to visit this windmill that was discussed. I can't but wonder if these coal shipments somehow fuel their fiery magics. It is at least something to consider."
Their investigation complete, Varian comes alongside Darc and peers down below once more. "See anything, Darc? Or shall we press forward?"
Darc growls, "Something down there... these ladders go a long way down though..."
...and as Lord Varian listens, he too can hear things moving around in the darkness below.
"Indeed, then let us be ready for further combat." Lord Varian begins the descent into further darkness.
Tella waits, watching from above for anything that Lord Varian might miss.
The ladders lead down into the gloom, and so with Darc leading the way, the group descend into the Organ Grinder's lair... three levels the group clamber down before they hear the sound of movement and whispering beneath them. Abruptly, as Darc places an over-sized foot onto a creaky floorboard, the whispering stops...
...and a voice calls upwards, "Who sent ya? I don't owe the Family nothing... we're all square!!! Was it that fool Grast at the Watch? What d'ya want? We can talk about this... come to an arrangement or we can do this the old fashioned way - sounds like you owe me some new materials for stitchcrafting as well!!!" The voice is slurred, as if the man is drunk or otherwise inebriated... and, pervading through the decks as the group move further into the vessel, an acrid smell of animal musk, chymicals and urine fills the air.
Lord Varian decides the best course is to say nothing and let the drunken Organ Grinder carry on. The Family, Grast, these were helpful leads.
He looks around once more to see if there was anything of interest before they descended further.
Elsie is about to respond to their quarry but Varian's stance gives her pause. Instead she whispers into the Lord's ear, "Methinks he has partook of some form of insectum...be careful."
She eyes the surrounding closely, wary of another trap...
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"Oh you poor fool. Did you never think that perhaps giving vials of unquenchable fire for others to fling about wouldn't eventually come back to bite you firmly in your ample rear," Tella says, her voice about as venomous as any of you have heard it. The Organ Grinder, it seems, has rather ticked the young woman off.
"I think materials for your abominations are the least of your concerns. Why don't you come quietly and I won't pick your mind apart from the inside."
A flapping noise approaches from somewhere below the group, and the voice slurs out, "Stop them where they stand Lott... they'll take nothing more from the Grinder!!!"
...and, flying up - illuminated by the jarred beetles - comes a tiny figure with thin, leathery wings, small horns, and a mischievous smile.
"Kneel," Tella snarls, her patience having run out. Her mind reaches out to the tiny creature and tries flaying its very conscious from it. The edges of her irises and pupils glow white as she fixes the impish creature with her unnerving gaze.
The smile on the creature's face crumples as Tella stares at it... and tumbling from the air, it crashes to the floor somewhere below the group...
"That was frighteningly effective," remarks Lord Varian, as the mephit tumbles downward. He begins the descent down the ladder in pursuit, then reports to everyone what he sees.
"As you can see Organ Grinder," Elsie calls out, "You are running out of options here. Lay down your arms here and we will show mercy on you!"
What worries me here is if he has any more living fire flasks...If we corner him he may decide to send us all into the Lyme!
"My patience has worn thin," Tella replies to Varian. Her eyes dimly glowing in that strange and unsettling way they are wont to do. She waits for the Organ Grinder's response before following the others into the gloom. Motes of lights dancing into existence for the others to see by.
Moving downwards into the depths of the vessel, the friends start to reach what must be the very bottom of the boat... and see, somewhere down below them, a figure reeling around as the boat sways on its increasingly dubious moorings. The lights of the pyrebeetles pick out wild eyes as the Organ Grinder looks upwards and sees the descending investigators... and the half-crazed man reaches for a bottle slung from his belt.
Tella rolls her eyes as the Organ Grinder pulls out the vial. Her eyes glow bright white for a moment as she attempts to ensnare his mind once more.
"You really shouldn't be playing with fire here. Why don't you leave those dangerous toys behind so you don't get hurt and send you home into the Lyme."