The door swings quietly open revealing all to readily the source of the disquieting smell.
Erik's sunrod blazes into a once beautiful hallway. Fresh blood and worse puddles the stone floor as he sees four bodies scattered like broken toys at the foot of a heavy metal chair. At a glance, he sees heavy doors to the left and right leading to the ruined towers, while the archways to either side of the hall and directly in front of him, lead into a wide corridor.
In the distance, you hear shuffling.
"What in the Nine Hells happened here?" Hobbes gasped. "Were these men tortured to death?"
"This is most disturbing," Perigia says. "I wonder what purpose this served?"
Perigia sees no evidence of any kind of ritual. Hobbes realises that one of the victims still clings to life however. A bulky man, innocent of weapons and wearing farmer's garb.
"Oh, this isn't so bad." the shadowy Ceara says. "They even left one alive, how sloppy."
"Erik or Kel, this man needs a healer." Hobbes calls as he approaches the dying man.
"I will do what I can. While I have some skill in magical healing, it may be too late for that and my natural healing is rather rudimentary. Master Keledilinthir, could you please assist me?"
With that, Erik rushes to the wounded farmer, and sets his songblade next to the man, humming gentle tones. Erik then speaks arcane words of healing, weaving them into a gentle song to try and alleviate the man's pain.
"How 'bout you assist me, I the a medic after all."
Heal check =
Between them, Kel and Erik manage to restore the man somewhat. Most of his wounds are abdominal, as though something had simply tried to tear his guts out, but there are scratch marks as well and other, stranger wounds that neither the bard nor the elf recognise.
Their patient looks around the ravaged hall as he regains consciousness and then leans away in terror from his rescuers. His wounds are still severe and it will take careful care and much rest to fully restore him.
"You're not really people!," he gasps "You won't fool me again. Get back."
Frantically, he gropes for anything that might be used as a weapon, hands scrabbling across the soiled floor.
"Calm yourself, man, I assure you we're real."
To emphasize his point, Erik grasps the man's hand and squeezes it tightly.
"Now don't move or you'll have to put your entrails back in by yourself this time. All is well. We will protect you."
Erik's words are not only sincere, but also laced with magical influence as his songsword continues to hum nearby. The bard may still need some aid in doing so, however.
The man tries to wrench his hand out of Erik's, his breathing coming fast and terrified.
"No. You're not. Did you bring me back just to kill me again?"
"You're not really people!"
"I guess that goes off your definition of 'people'. I mean if you mean human them their your guys.", Brujo points a thumb at Hobbes and Erik.
He stand at the door way, hand at the ready, looking for sign of danger.
Apart from the sounds he knows to be the changing landscape, Brujo hears nothing out of place beyond the entrance door.
Kelgan grunts in annoyance at the man's disbelief in their good intentions. "I'll take a look at what's back there." Then, cracking his knuckles as he goes, the hulking half-orc takes a look into the next room.
The shadow that is Ceara moves deeper into the room. She is suprised that they are saving the nearly dead man, but doesn't comment.
"My name is Bartholomew Sebastian Hobbes and I am a mage-for-hire from Aglarond. These are my adventuring companions." Hobbes tells the man as he sweeps his arm to show the others. "We mean you no harm, I assure you. We were sent from a nearby monastery of Kelemvor to investigate this earthmote. You are aware that you are floating above the ground on a large chunk of rock, aren't you?"
"You've obviously suffered some very traumatic ordeal and we would like to help you if we can." He gives him a warm, friendly smile. "Please calm down."
Kelgan
Hobbes, Erik and Kel manage to calm the patient enough for him to stop flinching away from them.
"I was in the fields with the others when something pulled us here. We came to the house for shelter and -- things -- they became us and then they tried to kill us ..." he shudders again. "Get me out. Please."
"We can't do that just yet, I'm afraid, since we're currently on a wandering earth mote. We've only recently arrived ourselves. Can you describe these creatures? It would be nice to know what we're dealing with."
"They looked like people. We thought they were caught like us, hurt in the pull up here, but they weren't. Some of them took our shapes and the others ... they pulled us apart."
He glances quickly at the bodies. "Like that."
Ceara has little interest in the talking of the wounded man, so she shadow wanders over towards Kelgan.
"How did they 'become' you? The answer may give us a clue as to these creatures' nature. Did they cast a spell? Did their form slowly shift? Did you see their true forms? Did they have tentacles or pale, greyish skin?" Hobbes slips Ceara a look as he asks the last question, as she leaves the room. "Did they have to touch you to take your form or did they do so merely by looking at you? Some creatures have to digest a part of the creatures they copy." Hobbes looks around. "As for some place safe, I have an idea. We can't leave your friends here and we don't yet know of a way off this floating rock. You could jump, I guess, but I wouldn't expect to survive the fall. We could clean this place up and I could secure that door. No one in or out. Then we investigate the rest of the building and you remain here, safe for the most part. Then when we finish our investigation, we hopefully find a way to get off this rock and we come back and get you. We will establish a codeword and a signal to let you know it's us. But first we need to know what we are dealing with. Can you describe the manner in which these creatures assumed your forms?"
Ceara -
"They touched us, and we couldn't heal and they stole our shapes. They just looked like anyone. Like, him, you, her - " he points to Ceara, Hobbes and Erik.
"If you're not real, kill me now, don't play with me. If you are, help me." His voice rises towards hysteria again.
"Relax, mister, relax. I told you we were here to help you and I meant it. Sit still and don't move too much. We don't have a cleric and we've already healed you enough to survive, provided you are smart. Are you smart?" Hobbes sits next to him. "I am going to take your friends outside and give them a funeral pyre. Could I have their names, please?"
Kelgan turns back towards the farmer. "Did what attacked you leave the house? Because people are heading our way."
"Prepare yourself, Kelgan. And whatever happens, do not let those people touch you. They are dangerous shapechangers, perhaps rakshasas." Hobbes quickly says.
"I don't know where they went," whispers the man. "You saw what they did, they must have thought they finished me, but I didn't see anything after they tried to gut me."
"Oh, just kill him. He's got no use now. We have hostiles coming to play. They might already be dead, which makes them more fun to kill."
Ceara's disdain for humanitatian gestures shows clearly though.
"I'm not gonna kill him, I just healed him. He might not be important to you but he has a family somewhere that needs him."
"But I'm shouldn't expect compasion from a Drow's lackey."
"Maybe you could change into somthing that has a heart."
"I have a few potion's of resistance the could help if the baddies cause special damage." (spend a HS to gain restaince 5 of any one type.)
Kel will look around for any high perches he could get to and still over look the battle.
"I wasn't expecting company just yet." Hobbes says with a frown. "I'm sorry, your friends are going to have to wait. I can still save you, though."
Hobbes goes over and opens the door to one of the towers. "I am going to check out this tower. Maybe I can stash him in here."
Hobbes pauses and grins broadly. He then walks over to the shadows that Ceara merged into and whispers softly just to her:
Ceara
"Ceara, my dear, could you do me a favor? Take a good look at our wounded friend here. I would like you to take his place. Take some of his blood and his clothes and smear them on you. Fool a shapechanger with another shapechanger, I always say. Well, okay, I don't always say that, but you get the idea, right? What better way to get under their skin then become someone they think they killed?"
Then he quickly goes back and checks the tower to the right.
Erik will assist Hobbes with the injured man and makes a mental note to rewrite Ceara as a more compassionate character when he records all this.
A wide grin spreads across Kelgan's face as he draws his sword. "Someone, go guard the other entrance. We don't want any of them sneaking past."
"Bran. My name's Bran." The farmer looks hard at Erik and Hobbes, seeming to find them trustworthy.
Erik will assist Hobbes with the injured man and makes a mental note to rewrite Ceara as a more compassionate character when he records all this.
There's no reaction from Ceara to the whisper or to Kel's words. The shadowy being simply stays where she is, studying them as they draw closer.
While in the lower part of the tower behind the door, Hobbes finds the cleanest part of the floor and takes out his bedroll and lays it out on the floor. He also takes out 3 days worth of rations and one of his waterskins. He sets them down next to the bedroll, within reach. Then he takes 2 candles and his flint and steel and places it on the other side. He steps back and nods his head. "That should do it, Cassie. It's not perfect, but it is the best I can do on such short notice." His tattoo burns a bit. "Of course, he won't be grateful. That's not the point. Remember what Sune says about unselfish acts everyday? This is mine."
He moves back into the main room, asks Erik to assist and takes the farmer into the tower room and sets him on the bedroll. "Yeah, it smells and it's dirty, but it should be safe. Use my bedroll. Get as much sleep as you can. Your wounds will need it. There is food and water here and a couple of candles and my flint and steel. So you will have everything you will need to survive for the next few days. Hopefully, we will have this wrapped up by then. Now I am going to seal the door. Only one of us can open it again. It's magic. So those things will not be able to double back around us and get to you. Sune watch over you." And he makes a little gesture of blessing. He lights one of the candles and then turns to leave.
Once he and Erik leaves, Hobbes will close the door and take out a Nail of Sealing from one of his pockets. Then he will take the hammer from his climbing kit and pound it into the door, naming Erik, Kel and himself as the only people who can open this lock. The nail will silently move into the door. The door glows briefly and then turns to normal.
Satisfied that the job is done, Hobbes rubs his hands together and says, "What sort of greeting should we prepare for these creatures?" He looks around and says, "Not much to work with in here."
Kel will climb up the stone work and get into a ambush positon.
Acrobatics =
Bran seems to finally believe in the good intentions of his saviours and nods as the sorcerer quickly explains the arrangements.
"I've got nothing to offer but my thanks," he whispers as the door closes on him.
Kel clambers swiftly up the walls and clings incongruously to a stone swan.
"Let the combat.... begin." Hobbes says with a smile.
Ceara keeps casually observing the approaching figures.
The approaching crowd seem to be farmers. Blank faced, they walk surrounding the only armed figure, whose face cannot be seen beneath a lowered visor. So far, they have taken no notice at all of the waiting group.
"Look what we have here.... " Hobbes points to the advancing creatures.