With a puff of dust and the sound of snapped dry twigs, the head of the body rolls a short distance until it bumps gently into a table leg. By lack of any fluid from headless corpse, this body seems to be dried out a long time ago.
"...is it dead now?"
"I'm going to guess that, yes, he is, and was already dead. Poor guy…"
Beorae straightens herself and looks around the room once again. "I wasn't expecting it to be so quiet in here. This is unsettling. Either of you have any suggestions?"
"I think we should go upstairs," Beorae whispers. "Themp, is the way trapped at all? This place gives me the creeps."
The memory of the tower entrance fresh in her mind, Beorae casts Detect Magic on the stairs, looking to see if there are any magical traps or triggers that might be a problem if they ascend.
"All you need is to ask nicely" he replies with a wink.
Carefully, the scoundrel leads them upstairs.
No magical auras stand out to Beorae as a sign of a trap or trigger. Moments later, the cautious thief picks his footing, his senses sharp for any hidden triggers to traps. Every following wide step leads him up, the path turns to the right, forming a semicircle staircase. He continues until he can only see the bottom of the stairs when he looks back, the library below no longer visible, and ahead: a wooden double door. In construction they are strongly built but not banded with iron, quite similar to the doors that separated the half of the Master Library. A cursory glance at the outer frame, Themp sees no hinges on this side of the door. The doors will need to be pushed forward to open. By inspection only, the archer is not able to tell if the door is locked, barred, or otherwise blocked without touching it. No light comes from underneath or from any gap in-between; either this door is made to completely close off the following room, or it is very dark on the other side.
If the two half-elves and Shark follow, neither of the two spellcasters are able to detect any magic on or around the wooden doors. Shark remains close to Beorae's side.
Nme’an inspects the door with his special glasses and also reaches out with his feelings as he attempts to sense any nearby evils, apart from Themp. If nothing, apart from Themp, seems suspect, he raises his shield and pushes carefully through the doors.
Nme'an's senses beyond the wooden doors alert him to a the presence of evil. Concentrating, the aura seems to be one infused with the essence of Evil, as opposed to a mere mortal corrupted by a lifetime of wickedness. Though he cannot pinpoint the location of the evil presence with this spell, with another moment of focus he able to determine fainter presences of evil (four, to be exact) scattered around beyond the door, and the strongest aura forward and to the right of the doors.
Nme'an glances to his collogues and says a short prayer. Those around him feel a slight strengthening of their resolve as the Knight Lieutenant presses forward through the door.
The wooden doors groan as they part, opening to utter darkness inside. What scant light from the stairway reveals is the stone floor and the wooden legs of upturned chairs to the left and right. The way directly ahead is clear, although the faint light stretches just a few paces beyond the doorway.
Right away, a shuffle of movement all around the shadowed room alerts the adventurers. One pair of yellow eyes glow dimly deep within the dark, just to the right and further back from where the furniture is cleared. There is further movement, the sound of scraping stone or wood, on the right and left.
A weak, wheezing voice from directly ahead reaches their ears.
"The Dark Lord Ithalgol foretold of this day. At last, we are free!" a pause, and then, "I am to escort you to his Magnificence, if you would allow me..."
Nme’an casts light and raises a glowing gauntlet to allow the others to see into the room.
Nme’an’s light pours into the room, allowing Themp to see a little further in, and the half-elves, twice as far. Unflinching in the light to one side of the door, a skeleton stands at a corner in the room. Wearing a tattered robe, which covers a frame of pale yellow bone with some residual sinew has long ago rotted and dried away. The empty eye sockets face Nme’an. No weapons appear to be strapped or carried by the skeletal figure.
The dim lighting touches on more than one skeleton, in fact there are four in total. Two stand to the right, one stands to the left near a wall, and the fourth stands directly ahead. All wearing similar garb: robes that are ragged and rotting, the bones underneath dry and yellow. The faintly glowing yellow eyes are just beyond the reach of the light. The room appears to open further to the right.
The rasping voice speaks again, from deeper in the dark. “I am Duridel, and these are my servants. Please, come with me, we must hurry.”
The yellow eyes move to the right with soft footsteps, and then turn to the adventurers, waiting.
The strength and resiliency of an animated skeleton depends on the skill of the necromancer, and the corpse's strength in life. In general, animated skeletons do not retain any abilities or memories from their time as a living creature. These mindless creatures have scarce enough cunning to use weapons, and react quickly to danger. The magic that animates them also fortifies their willpower against external threats. Sharp weapons that can pierce or slice have less effect on their bony forms, and they seem to suffer no damage from colder elements.
”When it is time, be sure and use blunt impacts on the skeletons. There is no flesh to cut, so do not bother,” Nme’an tells the others aloud before taking a few steps forward so as to illuminate the creature standing further into the room.
Hesitantly, Beorae steps forward with Shark at her side, more for keeping close to the paladin than any other reason. Speaking up, she asks, "And why should we follow you? Your master is our enemy and the root of evil in these lands."
Shark growls threateningly at the skeletons, shoulders crouched low and golden eyes darting between foes.
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"Well, do you have a better plan, Red?", Themp asks, nonchalantly.
In a stride, he picks up the torch and crosses the door.
"Howdy, folks." he addresses the walking nightmares.
Duridel’s eyes seem to lose their glow in the light of Nme’an’s gauntlet. Dark hair long and unkempt, his face gaunt with paper-dry skin stretched over his skull. Despite this, these sharp features cut a rather dashing visage in clothing that seems ageless in style. Rather than loose, flowing robes like those of his skeletal servants, Duridel wears a long, dark, close-fitting tunic with narrow sleeves and gold buttons lining one side of his chest. The hem of the black garment sweeps a few inches above the stone floor. Strange, gold embroidered symbols trace along the length of his sleeves. A leather clasp on his belt keeps a thick book at his side, along with an ornate cylinder that is most likely a scroll case. The master of the skeletons makes a single blink of displeasure at the paladin’s comment.
Duridel breaks his annoyed stare at Nme’an, and his eyes roll at Beorae’s words. “There are always doubters! Is it not enough to overcome death without the help of heaven or hell, but by the depth of his own cunning?”
Only the heads of the skeletons turn to follow the three as they advance, the rest of their bodies eerily still. Duridel’s expression betrays momentary confusion at Themp. “Howdy? Hmm...”
The well-dressed greeter glances to each of his skeletons, and closes his eyes in concentration. A moment later, he departs to the right, further into the dark without another word. With dry groans and creaking, the skeletons stir and follow after him, seeming to ignore the Champions of Thaleniel. One even crosses right in front of Nme’an!
Nme'an readies his Warhammer, but continues along warily.
Beorae follows close behind. "Je! Hii ni maoni mazuri?," she whispers hurriedly to her armored companion.
"Uko sahihi. Sio. Kuwa tayari," Nme'an replies after a moment. He then stops and addresses Duridel ahead of him.
"Enough of this. We are here to rid this tower of evil. One of two things will happen now. Either you will tell us how to reach your master then dispell your skeletons and leave this place in peace, or you and your minions will be dispatched here and now before you are able to reach your master's side. This is your once offer of mercy. You should take it.
A dry, scraping laugh echoes out from where the three can see the glowing yellow eyes. Nme’an can see Duridel, his dark lips stretched back to form the approximation of a smile. A smile with too many teeth, and two of them very sharp incisors. He holds his side as the rough laughter continues a bit too long.
“Oh how I missed the bluster of mortals!” he cries, recovering his composure. He takes a step towards Nme’an.
“Indeed you are the pillar firm in churning seas. I appreciate your direct approach, but I follow orders from one, and you are not him.” A corner of his lip twitches, his yellows eyes glimmering with a playful, malicious look. “I entreat you one last time. Drop your weapon and follow me.”
"Ok," the half-elf responds flatly a moment before he turns and swings his Warhammer at the nearest of the skeletons.
for
Nme’an’s mind feels a jarring, intrusive sensation, akin to a battering ram against a braced door. The feeling passes, and the paladin’s hammer reduces the nearby skeleton to dust and bone splinters.
A wicked grin exposes Duridel’s sharp teeth. “So be it. Servants, you know what to do.”
With surprising speed, the skeletons spring towards the adventurers! They can see three closing in, but can hear more creaking and groaning of bones in the dark, moving closer with each step.
Two skeletons advance on Nme’an, lashing out with bone hands hard and sharp.
The third reaches Beorae at his side, and flails a bony hand at her!
Raking like a claw, the skeleton tears at the flesh in the druid’s unshielded arm!
Out of the darkness, Themp sees two more skeletons emerge!
In the low-light, Nme’an, Beorae, and Shark can see Duridel pace slowly, from the end of one table to another. His glare seems focused on the warhammer wielded by the knight. He raises his hand and gestures, uttering a magic word, “Disrupit.” Small dark pieces of something fall from his fingers onto the floor.
The Knight Lieutenant feels a strange vibration travel down the haft of his weapon and into his steel gauntlet!
Holding tight, Nme’an absorbs the vibrations of the magic spell, allowing the energy to travel from the warhammer to his body. The quaking fades, with no apparent ill effect.
The vibration of the weapon increases, until he feels the handle warp and hears cracks split along the haft of the hammer. The head of the weapon rattles as though loose.
Duridel clearly cast a spell, but this is not a spell known to either arcane or divine spellcasters of the current age. This unknown magic, with its components, gestures, and utterances, was lost to time centuries ago.
"Gah!" Beorae yells as the sharp bones rake her arm. She takes a short step back and Shark fills the gap, teeth and claws bared. He lunges at the skeleton who had attacked Beorae .
Beorae, focused on Duridel, flourishes her hand and hisses a quick incantation.
"Themp, shoot him!," she mutters over her shoulder.
"Hey, that is a better plan!" retorts with a laugh, rushing right beside her and shooting at the glowing eyes.
Nme’an retains his grip on his unbroken warhammer and swings again.
for
Duridel grimaces at the glowing purple lights covering his form. The tiger’s claws find purchase on the skeletons, but seem to have little effect other than faint scratches on the hard yellow bone. Nme’an’s warhammer hums low through the air after a missed swing. Now that his form is outline is covered in violet lights in the shadows, the archer has a much easier aim. Themp’s arrow sings through the air, striking the vampire in the torso! No blood seeps from the wound, and Duridel looks up from the fletching to scowl at Themp.
The skeletons press their attack! Two skeletons attack with both clawed hands at Nme’an.
Shark’s foe also lashes out, intent to draw blood.
Tiger blood is drawn as the skeletal claws rip through tiger flesh!
Duridel holds his stare at the archer, and steps forward to the edge of the light. Themp feels the yellow eyes burning into his mind!
Beorae ducks low to get out of Duridel's sight. "Ignis!" She snaps her fingers and fire fills her palm.
With a snarl, Shark once again strikes at the skeletons in front of him.
Nme'an is briefly taken aback by Shark's tearing apart of a second skeleton, but then the Knight Lieutenant looks up to Duridel with a smile, twirls his Warhammer effortlessly in his hand just to show it was unaffected by the creature's odd spell, then takes a swing at another skeleton.
for
A cold sensation zaps down Themp’s spine, and suddenly, the rogue feels that his body is not his own. His thoughts and feelings are his, but every muscle appears to be under the control of another, an intruder to his psyche. A harsh voice rings clear in his mind with an undeniable command:
Drop your bow and backstab the beastmaster, Red, with your sword.
Suddenly, the scoundrel drops his shortbow. As it clatters on the floor, he draws his shortsword from his belt, turns to Beorae and stabs at the druid.
Shark snaps and slashes at the skeletons, but does not harm them more than faint scratches. Nme’an on the other hand, knocks a jaw clean off, then a few ribs. His warhammer is caught for a moment in the ribcage as the skeleton struggles, but the act of tearing it free seems to put down that pile of bones for good.
At Themp’s unexpected attack, Duridel’s scraping laugh fills the room.
Even though the street rat leans towards the other side of the law, Nme’an senses that even this behavior is out of character for Themp. He must be under some kind of enchantment that allows someone else controls his actions. Given Duridel's attack on Nme'an's mind earlier, he has a pretty good guess at the culprit.
Themp might tease and joke, but he would never hurt a friend like this on his own volition. Beorae looks him in the eye and is vaguely reminded of a puppet on strings. This is no illusion; this is definitely Themp, and Themp’s blade, and her blood on it, but the scoundrel’s heart is not behind this act of villainy. Duridel’s gloating laughter confirms it. What is more, Beorae’s awareness of Shark’s moods tells her that the protective feline friend might move against Themp if she doesn’t act quickly.
The skeleton facing Nme’an lashes out with their claws at the knight!
The last skeleton joins the fray beside the others, and takes one swipe for each foe!
However, the clawing leaves nary a scratch on Nme’an’s shield, and Shark is able to bat away the swing. The third skeleton exchanges blows with the grey tiger!
Or, at least, tries to. Shark seems to be able to avoid the attacks with ease.
Duridel utters a magic word, “Deminutum!” as dark energy swirls around one hand. With a gesture, it spirals off his pointed finger, forming a thin, straight beam of darkness with a sickly shimmer. Carefully aimed, it appears to avoid a skeleton and strike Shark in the side!
The spell recently cast by Duridel is categorized into the school of Necromancy, referred by scholars and mages as a Ray of Enfeeblement. This spell is designed to sap the bodily strength of the target. This weakness is only temporary, however, rarely ever longer than a full minute.
At the end of the spell, the vampire pulls some rolled paper from the cylindrical container at his side. He unrolls the scroll and smiles maliciously at Nme'an.
His will is not his own! Sensing Shark's mood, the druidess redirects the tiger back to the skeletons. Not certain what to do about Themp, Beorae shouts at him while steping away."Themp! Wake up! Nme'an, I might need some help here…"
Keeping an eye on Duridel, Beorae spots the parchment and immediately hurls a ball of fire at it.
Shark roars and reduces the skeleton in front of him to rubble.
Nme’an watches the skeleton before him then takes the opportunity to move forward towards the smirking vampire and his unrolled parchment. In one smooth motion, the Knight of the Dawnflower stretches out his hand, drops his warhammer, and fills the space between himself and the Vampire, along with his recently revealed scroll, with fire.
Themp pursues the druid, but instead of attacking her directly, tries to step around and attack from the back!
In the moment, with the chaos of battle and betrayal, there is one spell effect that associates with Themp’s behavior: Dominate Person. Unlike charm spells that rely on persuasion and suggestion to affect the target’s motives, this spell is more like a brute-force entry and hostile takeover to the mind. There are a handful of high-powered spells that would be able to free Themp’s will, but the few capable of that kind of magic are few and far between. There is a spell of protection that is lower in power, and might be more realistically available, a Protection spell, specified to oppose an axis of inherent belief: Chaos, Evil, Good, or Law. However, this is not a spell that Beorae knows -for such spell knowledge is reserved for the worshippers of the newer gods and scholars of the arcane.
“Damn!” cries Duridel as the druid’s handful of fire crashes into him, his arm scarcely fast enough to hold the scroll away from the blaze on his opposite shoulder.
Lightning fast, he twists away from gout of flame spraying out of Nme’an’s hand. When the roar of fire fades, an ear-piercing shriek rings out over it. A half-melted, screaming face turns back toward the knight, trembling hands empty and ash floating down to the floor, and the spellbook at his side falling in cinders and burning pages. His cloak is scorched away in parts, revealing charred, pale flesh. In spite of these simple spells, the fire seems to have a powerful effect on Duridel. His bemused exterior vanished, the faintest whisper can be heard on his half-melted lips.
“I tried, I tried to do it his way..." he mutters, and then raises a smoldering gaze to the paladin and whispers, "Is this what you want?”
The last remaining skeleton ambles after Nme’an and tries to claw him.
The claws do not find purchase, but do serve as a moment of distraction.
In the blink of an eye, Nme’an feels a collision with the vampire, deceptively strong for his frame and with unnatural speed. His garments and gear still smoking and sizzling from fiery assault. Face contorted with rage, Duridel growls, louder. “Is this what you want?!”
With a well-practiced holding maneuver, the heavily armored paladin finds himself stuck in place. Duridel’s raw, mutilated face inches from the knight, feral orange eyes drilling right into Nme’an’s. “IS IT?!" he booms, slurring, "IS IT?!”
Nme’an feels his head jerked to one side, exposing part of his neck! Sharp fangs pierce deep and horrible, desperate gulping sounds follow.
Nme'an attempts to escape the grapple...
...and fails.
“Gah!” Beorae exclaims as Themp’s blade once again slices Beorae’s armor and skin. Nme’an’s sudden peril, however, draws the druidess’s attention.
With a deft movement, she sidesteps Themp and hurls another fireball at the vampire. “Shark, kill it!”
Shark immediately rounds on the vampire, attempting to tear it off of Nme’an.
Once again the rogue positions himself behind Beorae to stab her with his sword.
Beorae’s fiery spell flashes over Duridel’s back, burning bright over his undead flesh. Strangely, some of his wounds are slowly healing before the eyes of his foes. Shark leaps forward with claw and tooth, latching on and holding tight onto the vampire!
The skeleton flings one claw out at Nme’an, one at Shark!
Still grappling Nme’an, and now restrained by the big grey cat, Duridel lifts his disfigured face from gorging, his mouth covered in blood, and his eyes, now deep crimson, stare at Themp.
The harsh voice fills the thief’s mind:
Flank the tiger. Kill the tiger.
“The tiger wants a turn!” he laughs maniacally through bloody teeth. The vampire releases Nme'an and turns on the tiger to reverse the hold!
With a bestial snarl he grabs a tiger’s leg and brutally twists until Shark yelps, taking the reflexive hesitation to wrap onto the beast’s back. He bares his fangs over the scruff of Shark’s neck!
"Enough of this," Nme'an says while drawing his sword. He strikes a gallant pose with his sword held vertical before him as says a silent prayer, and then darts forward to strike at Duridel.
for
Suddenly ignoring Beorae's presence, Themp runs past her towards the tangle of fur and burnt flesh. With swift precision, he slashes at the tiger.
Seeing Themp attempt to slide past, Beorae jams out her leg, hoping to trip or slow him down enough to keep him out of the battle.
Or at least that's what his muscles wanted to do. Instead, he finds himself crashing loudly on the floor. The pain, however, is a welcome one. A small moment of respite in his sleepwalking nightmare.
And just like that, he finds himself in control of his muscles once more.
With a short sigh, Beorae looks from Themp to the melee. She hurls another fireball at the vampire.
”Glad to have you back. Now, help!”
Shark wrestles, attempting to again gain control of the vampire.