This large serving kitchen is equipped with a pair of humongous ovens now sealed with bricks. A pantry lies to the south, and whatever foods were once in have long since molded away to nothingness.
After looking over everything in the kitchen (and knocking on the bricked-up ovens to make sure there are no insane creatures locked within), Astoroth returns to the fountain room and examines the north door.
Same procedure as before: Take 20 for a 28 (29 if trapped), then open the door if it seems safe
The door opens easily enough, and doesn't seem to have been trapped.
The walls of this large display hall are decorated with numerous small alcoves. Some of these alcoves contain bits of exotic armor — a red-and-gold breastplate here, a plumed helm there — but most of the alcoves are empty with bits of armor scattered on the floor. A fully armored knight mounted on an equally armored horse stands in the middle of the hall on a low display.
Knowledge(history):1d20 + 13 ⇒ (5) + 13 = 18(do I recognize the armor style or time period?)
Astoroth searches his memory for any recognition of the armor while scanning the mounted knight for magical auras. It would be bad if he got attacked by a construct while searching this hall.
Spending a sphere point to divine as a standard action.
The armor on the knight is definitely magical - full plate, at that, and thus heavy but valuable. It seems to be the gear of an old Chelish knight, and certainly no longer in style. There are two more items of interest. The red-and-gold breastplate has a stronger aura of magic, and some kind of additional protection, while another piece of armor was covered in tiny metal plates held together by leather lacing. Definitely foreign in style, but it could probably be worn like a chain shirt. Some kind of ink on it registers as magical, and appears orange to your gaze.
The full plate is effectively a +1 Full Plate, and it's probably seen quite a lot of use over time. The Breastplate is a +1 light fortification breastplate, and looks sized for someone shorter and thicker than you - it would definitely need resizing. The last one wasn't magical (just similar to masterwork chainmail), but the material on it seemed to be Truecolor Dye - an interesting substance that appeared to be different colors to people of different moral views.
The armor was doubtless highly valuable - for the historical value alone, even without taking the magical effects into account. Still, for the time being, it would only slow him down. Leaving it where it lay, Astoroth approached the door at the end of the hall.
As usual, if it appears safe, he'll open it. only taking 10 this time as there've been no traps thus far.
The interior door - leading to a set of stairs heading down - isn't locked. Rather, it might be more accurate to say it no longer has a lock - judging by the melted look, somebody used acid to eat away the security and allow entrance to the cellar of the sprawling building. It's quite dark down there - not a problem for your eyes - but there's no telling what awaits within.
Interesting... So somebody else was here at some point in the past. But why leave behind so much valuable armor? Was the intruder simply not strong enough to carry it, or was there a darker reason. Fluff Gugg did have blood on its claws, after all....
His guard up, Astoroth carefully proceeds down the stairs.
The stairs soon open into some rather large halls - apparently the cellar of the building. There are three doors here - one immediately to your left, one down a hallway to the right, and a pair of double doors up ahead. There's also an open hallway to the left, leading to what looks like a tavern of some kind, as well as a large alcove up ahead and across from the double doors.
Well, this was certainly an elaborate set-up. The tavern, in particular, was interesting - why put that downstairs? All in good time. With a shrug, Astoroth checked the door immediately to his left. Best to start with what's closest.
The walls of this room are decorated with hundreds of mostly smashed glass display cases that seem to have once contained thousands of insects, spiders, and other arthropods. Yet more impressive are the larger, giant-sized vermin that have been preserved and are on display. Dog-sized ants, man-sized spiders, and even a horse-sized scorpion are mounted in threatening postures, although in each case, the immense preserved monster is badly damaged and, in some cases, in pieces.
About a minute after you started examining things, the entire room shook. Hundreds of vermin in the room suddenly lurched into violent life as phantasmal legs, wings, and heads reattached in a single sudden storm of hungry ghost bugs. An instant later, the verminous storm collapsed on itself in a cannibalistic orgy, the phantasmal creatures tearing themselves apart and feeding on each other - and you. As the storm passes through your own body, you see hundreds of what look like humanoid bite marks - and your belly feels fuller.
Fortitude Save:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (6) + 11 = 17
Despite the violence, your body is able to resist the worst of what the phantasmal swarm tried to do - though, sadly, not quite all of it.
Damage:3d6 ⇒ (5, 3, 1) = 9
Quite a few wounds remain bleeding as the phantasmal insects abruptly seem to collapse, falling back into their places along the walls.
That was ... unexpected. Even worse, there's no immediate way of knowing whether or not the phantom swarm is coming back. As much as he hated going in blind, Astoroth had little choice. He rushed to the far door and threw it open.
Rushing forward, you're able to move over some stairs and into the next room. This chamber showcases a staggering array of model ships, most of them damaged. Many of the miniature vessels seem to have once been displayed inside bottles, but these displays are now universally broken. The ships themselves come in all sizes, ranging from a half-foot in length to a massive seven-foot frigate on a stand in the middle of the room, its masts broken and hanging askew in a tangle of rigging.
As you enter, you also notice the tang of salty air, and a subtle shifting in the floor like you're on a boat at sea - a familiar sensation, really, given your recent journeys.
The only source of magic in the room is an orange sail attached to one of the broken models, with a small plaque below naming the ship 'Pride of the Dead' - it gives off an aura of conjuration (healing), but there doesn't seem to be anything on it that you can read.
The sail is about a foot and a half tall, and perhaps eight inches wide. As you move towards it, however, the fragments of every ship in the room start to vibrate.
Will DC 17:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (5) + 11 = 16
A warning twinge in your mind is your only notice that something is about to happen. (Would you like to Surge that, or allow this effect to happen and see what occurs?)
Something was definitely happening, but what? The only magic in the room is healing-related. But why would the ships vibrate? Steeling himself for the worst, Astoroth freezes in place and prepares to experience the full effects of whatever's coming.
For just a moment, you're overwhelmed by a brief vision of a hale and hardy human male arguing with a smaller half-elf male on the deck of a storm-tossed ship. Moments later, you're seeing things from the perspective of the half-elf.
"We didn’t lose all of this and endure those torments to tinker and meddle with our one spoil from the whole damnable affair!" the human roared, glaring at you.
"And yet again the trademark Bisby hesitance stalls what could have been a gripping chapter in his dreary chronicle." Your own mouth and voice replied.
"Enough from you! You’re here to chronicle my deeds, not dictate them! Keep your place!" the human responded - and the vision vanished. For just a moment, a lingering sense of bloodlust clouded your thoughts, but there was nothing in particular to take it out on - and the sensation faded.
Having experienced multiple events now, you can make an INT check to see if your book has any information on what's going on.
The Book of Truths flips open, and its pages move back and forth a few times, as if trying to decide on the best subject to open to. So far as you know, the book's never been intelligent in its own right, but there have always been hints of something resembling an opinion - of course, it's probably harder to not get interesting results when lots of power and lots of knowledge are crammed into the same place. Finally, it opens to a page dealing with spiritual events known as 'haunts' - strange manifestations of undead power. Most are fairly short-lived, but they tend to be intense, and detect magic is worthless for finding them since they're not actually magical in the way most people understand such power. A sufficiently perceptive person can usually spot some kind of warning before the haunt manifests itself.
No worries - real life is more important than any game, and I hope she feels better soon! ^^
If there was anything else of interest or value in this room, it was probably taken away when the original owners left - you don't see anything else of interest. Sadly, there are no other doors, either - the only exit seems to be back the way you came.
There was nothing else to be gained from this room, and the magic sail was too risky to be handled without first gathering more information. Moving quickly, Astoroth returns to the main hallway, considers for a moment, and heads left.
To your left is the hallway you peeked down before, and it's easy enough to follow it to the open room.
What may have once been a small cheerful bar shows that this room once acted as an underground tavern. Several shelves for wine bottles fill thewestern half of the room. Most of the wine bottles are smashed, the furniture likewise ruined, with the exception of a strangely child-sized table and set of chairs that seems to have been built out of scavenged parts from larger furniture that sits on top of the bar itself.
While the table has definitely seen use, there don't appear to be any traps on it - with the dolls gone, nobody is here to use the table, and there doesn't appear to be anything of particular value or interest on it.
A thorough search for magical auras eventually reveals two potions of cure moderate wounds, two potions of lesser restoration, a potion of levitate, two potions of mage armor, a potion of protection from arrows, and a potion of reduce person, all in variously-marked bottles of wine. Unlike most alcohols, potions generally don't go bad over time - one of their most-loved attributes, really.
Well, those will certainly come in handy. Astoroth stowed the potions in an empty pocket of his backpack and proceeded to check out the room across the hall.
This door is made of iron - and securely locked. It would take quite some time of sitting down and working with the lock to even try and pick it open, and in your current state, blasting it probably wouldn't be enough. As you examined it, the air near you abruptly darkened, and a shadow identical to the one you'd seen up on the hill appeared. This one, however, was even more translucent and flickering badly, like it could barely hold itself together. "Pow- und- oh, fo-" the voice on the other side of the shadowy creature suddenly sounded vexed, and the entire building shook slightly as the illusion briefly stabilized. "Dangerous! Restoring magic or go dow-" the shadow disappeared before they could finish, and did not return.
Astoroth grimaced. He didn't like going into a situation blind like this, but things seemed rather urgent. While it was possible that a key could be found elsewhere in the building, time seemed to be of the essence right now. While picking the lock was an option, that was a time-consuming process, and there was no guarantee of success. That left only one real choice, and it was one that Astoroth never enjoyed. Changing one's form was always so ... uncomfortable.
The Endless Fount concentrated, and his body began to spout rocky protrusions. His skin hardened and enveloped his equipment. Within seconds, Astoroth had taken on the shape of an Earth Elemental. After a couple experimental prods, he proceeded to melt into the floor, with the intent of regaining the surface once he was clear of the door.
Alteration Sphere:
Shapeshift: As a standard action, you may shapeshift yourself of a touched creature, changing their form for as long as you concentrate. You may spend a spell point to allow a shapeshift to remain for 1 minute percaster level without concentration. You may dismiss your shapeshift as a free action. This is a polymorph effect. A target may only be affected by one shapeshift at any one time.
When shapeshifting a target, the caster must choose a form and a series of traits for them. Forms constitute a creature's basic physical makeup (humanoid, draconic, avian, etc) while traits are special characteristics or alterations (natural attacks, creature size, monster special abilities, etc). A caster may grant up to 1 trait + 1 per 5 caster levels and cannot grant the same trait more than once unless the trait indicates it may be granted multiple times.
With the exception of Blank Form, placing a form on a creature causes the creature's physical body to change into that of another creature. The target gains the listed number of limbs and loses all others. The target loses any extraordinary or supernatural abilities, natural attacks, and movement types dependent on their original form and gains the listed benefits in their place. In addition, the target's equipment melds into their new form, causing them to lose their armor and shield bonuses and the ability to pull any item from a backpack or belt. They also cannot activate magic items (although constant bonuses from magic items still remain).
ELemental Transformation:
You may spend an additional spell point to grant the form of an elemental with your shapeshift. As an elemental's body is mutable, additional limbs or natural attacks cannot be added to this form through traits. The target gains a 30ft move speed and a 25% ability to ignore critical hit and precision damage, which increases by 25% per 5 caster levels to a maximum of 100%. The target gains 2 slam attacks (Primary, 1d6, 1d4 small), natural armor equal to 2 + 1 per 5 caster levels, and one of the following packages depending on which elemental is being mimicked.
Earth: You gain Darkvision 60ft, a 30ft burrow speed, and Earth Glide. You also gain a +2 Strength bonus and Resistance to acid equal to your caster level.
If you can't beat it, go around it - a very sound strategy, and one that brings you into the chamber.
The walls of this room are lined with bookshelves. A velvet sofa along the southern wall contains a single skeleton clad in long-decayed rags, its arms wrapped tightly around a burlap bag bulging with unseen items. A scattered pile of junk sits on the floor before the skeleton, a corona of treasures and clutter alike. A message in Common is scrawled on the wall in huge crude lettering opposite the seated skeleton: “He who steals from me dies by my hand.” The grisly pile of skeletal remnants heaped in a mound in the center of the room seems to testify to this threat.
Well, that was an obvious trap. Fortunately, Astoroth was only greedy for knowledge, so the probably-cursed treasure held little interest. Ignoring the skeleton for now, Astoroth instead begins to search the room. While it's possible that the shadow's appearance at the doorway to this room was merely coincidental, the absence of encounters in the several hours he'd spent exploring this structure kept that possibility minimal.
Taking 20 to search the room - but not touching the treasure or the skeletons.
Simply looking around didn't seem to do much in this room, but the skull on the skeleton started trembling as soon as you began moving away from where you'd entered, and it trembled harder every time you even got close to anything else within the chamber. It was rather unlikely you could actually search or examine anything without ultimately setting it off - and the real question was whether or not you were willing to risk that.
Astoroth frowned. "I don't know if you can hear or understand me, but I give you my word that I have no intention of taking any of your belongings. I believe someone here needs my help, and I'm trying to find them." As he speaks, he shifts back to human form, walks to the door, and makes a point of removing his backpack and leaving it there.
As he does this, he takes the opportunity to try to determine how the door can be opened. (Is there a locking mechanism on this side?)
The moment you spoke, the skull exploded with light, flashing violently. "Thief! Thief! Thief!" It howled, madness filling its voice. Even as it spoke, you could see magical power gathering in front of it - though it wasn't immediately obvious what it was planning to do.
Initiative (You):1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Whatever it was, though, at least you could do something first - keeping in mind that this screeching skull was no normal creature, and as with many haunts, it probably couldn't be subdued by conventional violence.
Insane. Everyone's insane in this place. Astoroth was getting quite fed-up with this museum. It was a vast repository of knowledge, true, but the inhabitants were infuriating to deal with.
His power surged as he stretched out a hand to touch the skull. Haunts blurred the lines between life and death, so healing energy often caused pain.
The skull spun over a few times, a significant part of its bone blasted away, then focused its gaze on you. Moments later, a monstrous, worm-like creature appeared in the air, mandibles clacking wildly...
Will DC 16:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12
...and the horrifying creature lunged towards you as your mind faltered at the sight. Other people might have laughed, but a true bookworm was a rare creature that simply devoured not just the pages of books, but the knowledge they contained, simultaneously erasing it from the minds of anyone who had studied it as it consumed the pages. Fewer creatures were more likely to be despised by the lord of information, and as it reached you...
Fort DC 16:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25 Damage:3d6 ⇒ (4, 5, 1) = 10
...more than a few wounds opened on your body. The skeleton continued raging as the worm creature vanished into the air, clearly preparing for another blow.
Astoroth gasped at the horrific sight before his expression turned into one of pure hatred. This ... thing had dared to summon a creature that was anathema to the Endless Fount. While the mind control of the bandit mage from Nidal was inexcusably evil, the summoning of this beast was even more reprehensible. Only the worst kind of scum intentionally destroyed knowledge. Opening himself fully, Astoroth unleashed the full force of his divine might at the skull.
Did you use that bonus charge you earned from the puzzle yet? If not, I suggest using the Life Sphere's Restore offensively. On the other hand, you're expected to die sometime... XD Try your best and don't worry too much either way?
For all of your fury, the burst of power dissipated harmlessly against the wall, and the skull just roared in anger as it sent out another surge of energy.
Will DC 16:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (13) + 11 = 24
This time, whatever power it was conjuring broke apart under the force of you will and hatred for what it had done, granting at least a brief moment of respite.
I completely forgot about that bonus charge. Awesome! I have no idea how Restore has an offensive use, to be honest. That's the condition-removal stuff. Did you mean Cure like I've been using? I'm perfectly willing to die here if the dice gods make it happen, but I don't want to overlook something that could prevent it, either. I'm not out of tricks yet, but I will confess to being mystified as to how to deal with this thing if positive energy won't make it go away.
No, no, I said the right power. XD It's not usually offensive, but you're not facing a usual creature, either - certain types of restoration abilities are capable of dealing damage against this haunt. Think 'break enchantment' instead of 'fireball' for what's going on.
Interesting. I didn't know remove curse/break enchantment worked on haunts. Learn something new every day. :-)
The flash of his energy washing harmlessly against the wall brought Astoroth back to his senses. He'd let his emotions get the best of him. Fool. He'd wasted most of his power trying to batter the skeleton apart and had forgotten that haunts don't care about brute force. Finesse was the way to deal with them. With a thoughtful expression, Astoroth stretched out a hand and attempted to sever the bond preventing the skull's soul from moving on to the afterlife.
