Erylium's body does not dissipate, as the other creatures that had been summoned forth did. Her head lies near the golden pool, the sadistic grin gone. Her body lies at your feet, a necklace with an obsidian charm has fallen from it and rests beside the body.
"Agreed. We should see about expending this runewell before doing so, however. The quasit claimed there was another involved in whatever is going on down here, and that doesn't rub me in a way I find pleasing. Short of someone sacrificing themselves wholly to the waters, it seems the most direct route is to feed blood to the pool." Xamarath kneels down beside the bubbling waters. "Unfortunately, this will unfailingly create more of these "sinspawn" creatures until the pool is dormant."
"I'm a little hurt, but willing to keep going. If what Xamarath says is true, we have to destroy this pool. If giving it blood is the way to do that, then that's what we do. If we all stand around the pool with weapons ready and slam the s+$@ out of whatever crawls out it shouldn't be too bad."
Morythine cracks his knuckles. "I'm ready."
Agreed that the Runewell is too much of a threat to leave active, the group positions themselves around the glowing pool, prepared to dispatch the creatures as they crawl forth.
Xamarath uses Erylium's tiny dagger to make a small cut in his forearm, allowing a few drops of blood to fall into the pool, which immediately begins bubbling. Everyone tightens their grips on their weapons as the sinspawn begins to take shape. This one, however, has a marked difference in it's appearance. It is covered in strange markings all over its body, very intricate markings that appear to be tattoos.
Not wasting any time, the group launches it's assault, and dispatches the sinspawn quickly. The group repeats the ritual, but this time, are not as fortunate in the dispatching of the monster. It manages to launch an attack against Kala, and one of it's claws manages to bypass her defenses, opening a fresh wound on the Ulfen woman. However, the gathered forces are more than it can handle, and it falls before being able to launch another attack.
It is clear, however, even as the second sinspawn crawled from the waters, that the magic that had spawned it has dissipated. The water remaining in the pool no longer has a golden glow, but now appears to be clear, regular water.
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"Glad that's done. Shall we continue our explorations?"
Zoli nods, "Yeah, what do you think is over there?"
Whatever once was stored in these rooms has long fallen to decay and rot. All that remains are a few iron nails and rings that once held barrels together, as well as a pile of dirt on the ground, the rotted remains of the containers that were once kept here.
"Back to the statue, then? I seem to recall a couple of ways forward from there. Hopefully none of them are teeming with sinspawn or more busty demons. If we find a glabrezu with ample cleavage down here, I believe I'm going to have to call it quits, friends." Xamarath gestures back through the door that delivered them all here.
Chuckling at the Red Wizard's wisecrack, Zoli replies "Say, did you ever read The Glowering Glabrezus of Greydirge? It's not a classic by any means but the action is something fierce."
With a dreamy look she adds, "Almost makes me want to fight one someday..." and then starts back down the path, light cast on a ribbon on her armor and rapier in hand.
As the party moves down the halls and back to the statue, they see a long set of stairs leading up into darkness. Slowly moving forward, the stair leads to an old wooden door frame, the door itself obviously the victim of rotting away many years ago. On the other side, water ripples quietly in a circular stone pool lined with skulls. Smears of what looks like blood mar the pool's rim in places. Resting in the shadows in the opposite door,a hideous creature rests in the darkness, but as the light approaches, it unfolds a pair of leathery wings and rises up to face level with those in the hall, speaking out in a hellish tongue.
Also, a vargouille can kiss a helpless target by making a successful melee touch attack (this provokes attacks of opportunity). A kissed opponent must succeed on a DC 16 Fortitude save or begin a terrible transformation that changes the creature into a vargouille within 24 hours (and often much sooner; roll 1d6 separately for each phase of the transformation). First, over a period of 1d6 hours, all the victim's hair falls out. Within another 1d6 hours thereafter, the ears grow into leathery wings, tentacles sprout on the chin and scalp, and the teeth become long, pointed fangs. During the next 1d6 hours, the victim takes Intelligence drain and Charisma drain equal to 1 point per hour (to a minimum of 3). The transformation is complete 1d6 hours thereafter, when the victim's head breaks free of the body (which promptly dies) and becomes a vargouille. This transformation's progress is paused by sunlight or any light spell of 3rd level or higher, but stopping the transformation requires remove disease or a similar effect. The transformation is a disease effect. The save DC is Constitution-based and includes a +4 racial bonus.
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Kala draws her greatsword once more as she quickly moves in front of Eugeni. "Another cursed fiend to slay," she says, "it seems this ruin is full of them." The warrior then brings her sword down on the creature in a heavy, overhead chop, carving a large gash in its hideous face.
"It is wounded, my friends, release its soul from agony!"
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Zoli cartwheels around the well, landing with a flourish and stabbing at this revolting new monster...or that's her intent, until she lands on a smear of blood and almost loses her grip on her rapier, barely managing not to drop it.
"Dagnabbit! You didn't see that," she says to Kala with a look halfway between embarrassment and defiance.
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HP 17/17
Luck 6/8
Panache 4/4
Buffs zilch!
"I can't get to it, and my bow's no good with y'all in the way!" Eugeni says.
Morythine hurls a shuriken hopelessly across the pool.
Not wishing to expend much of worth against the heavily injured creature, Xamarath flings a bolt of force at the creature with a cocky smirk and a flick of his wrist at the vargouille. "I daresay our fair haired vanguard is hogging all the glory!"
The vargouille's jaw opens unnaturally wide, and it lets out a horrific shriek. While unsettling, none appear to be affected by its effects. Save for Crichton, who tumbles unceremoniously to the floor.
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Zoli calls out, "En garde, you flying fart-face!", feinting briefly to the side and then stabbing up suddenly, spearing it through the base of its left wing.
She then backs up against the wall, to make room for another ally to close with the beast.
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"QUIET BEAST!" Kala shouts as she once again brings her sword down on the vargouille, cutting it cleanly in half. Black ichor sprays against the back wall, and all over Kala as the fiend's pieces fall to the ground. "Well, I guess that's done..." she says, a sheepish grin on her face. After she cleans the remains of the vargouille off her self she says, "Anyway let's move on."
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Eugeni chuckles. "Nice one, Kala!"
I love the way she does that ponders Morythine on Kala's greatsword swinging efficiency whilst he casts around for his poorly thrown shuriken.
"Does this pool disgorge monsters like the previous one?" the dhampir asks Xamarath. "And is your bird okay?"
"Ah, here it is," continues Morythine, retrieving his shuriken.
After defeating the flying fiend, the group checks the door opposite where they entered to find a collapsed stairwell, that leads up about 10 feet before becoming impassable. Resuming their previous exploration technique, they come to a door opening onto a wooden platform.
This large chamber was obviously once a prison, as testified by the nearly two dozen cells that line the room’s perimeter. A rickety wooden platform overlooks the room, with two flights of stairs descending to the prison floor ten feet below. A five-foot-wide wooden walkway runs from the northern edge of the platform to a passageway to the east. Bare skeletons lie in most of the cells. (B6)
This room contains several ancient relics of what appear to be torture implements, although their function and style seem strange and archaic. In one corner sits a spherical cage with spikes protruding inward from its iron bars. In another stands what appears to be a star-shaped wooden frame, its surface studded with hooks. And in the center of the room is a long table covered with leather straps and a number of cranks that seem designed to rotate and swivel. While once obviously having seen plenty of use, they are currently too rusted and/or decayed to be of use currently (B7)
The crumbling remnants of several chairs and a long table clutter the floor of this room. To the south stand three stone doors, each bearing a strange symbol that resembles a seven-pointed star. Upon inspection, the three doors to the south were clearly once prison cells. Within each is a single skeleton of a badly deformed humanoid; one has three arms, another has an enormous misshapen skull, and the third has a ribcage that goes all the way down to its pelvis, a pelvis with stunted legbones strewn below its strangely flat girth.
The ceiling of this strangely cold chamber arches to a vaulted height of twenty feet. The floor contains eleven wooden lids strewn haphazardly over eleven five-foot-wide pits in the ground. From the darkness within these pits echo up strange shuffling sounds and, every so often, a low moan. Standing near the doorway is a deformed creature with three arms. Resting on its head, much to Morythine's relief and frustration, is his hat.
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"What in the hells is that?!" Eugeni exclaims. It's obvious that the monster is well...a monster. So he runs forward and tries to cut it with his long blade.
warns Morythine as Eugeni’s massive blow crashes down. Also careful to avoid stepping on any of the pit covers, the dhampir nips forward, and rather than directly attack the deformed monstrosity, instead tries to swipe the hat off its head!
As the adventurers continue to explore the catacombs, Morythine keeps an eye out for any treasure or items of interest.
The abomination falls, unable to even utter a word before being victim of the group's assault. Morythine manages to yank the hat off the things head as it falls backwards into one of the pits. As it does so, the moaning increases from all of them, and it is clear they each have a zombie trapped in them.
Morythine's hat is remarkably clean, given it's previous location, and he places it back on his head.
After seeing the distinct advantage they have to rid the world of these undead, and use their ranged weapons to eliminate them safely. In the pit the beast fell into, they can see he had an elaborate looking old longsword, a well made handaxe, and a dagger with a sliver blade.
This strange room consists of a fifteen-foot-diameter sphere. Several objects float in the room, spinning lazily in space—a ragged book, a scroll, a bottle of wine, a dead raven surrounded by a halo of floating and writhing maggots, and a twisted iron wand with a forked tip. Yet perhaps the most unnerving aspect of the room is the walls, for they are plated in sheets of strange red metal that ripple every once in a while with silent black electricity that seems to coalesce into strange runes or even words far too often for the effect to be chance.
Xamarath circuits the room slowly and warily, analyzing the strange energies surging through the very walls. After a moment to ensure that it is safe to continue, he examines all of the room's contents. The Thayvian casts a few basic divinations and sets to identifying those objects that warrant it. Seeing no arcane trappings on the tome, he gives it a brief flip through. Frankly, however, poring over more pages seems pretty dull. It seems like something Zoli might enjoy taking a look at though.
"Here, Zoli. Looks like some sort of catalogue of monsters, judging by the diagrams. I'm afraid I know too little Abyssal to piece together much, though." He tosses the book to her nonchalantly before continuing a circuit through the other oddities floating about.
Taking up the scroll and the wand, Xamarath tucks both onto various containers on his person. "And here we have arcane creations suitable to none other than me. Amateur level craftsmanship at best, but each contains basic evocation magic. Nothing to compare with my own considerable talents, of course. Maybe we can see if someone in town is willing to buy it from us."
Concluding his investigative efforts, Xamarath turns to resume his place among the others. He catches a glow from their recently acquired gains from the strange creature in the zombie pens. "Ah, nearly overlooked that one. Hand that sword here, if you would be so kind..."
The room itself radiates transmutation magic, and anything or anyone willing to can be under the affects of a levitate spell. When the black lightning appears, it has it's own distinct aura, but it doesn't last long enough to get a reliable read of what type.
Zoli accepts the tome, chanting a little song, after which the writing suddenly becomes clear to her.
Is there nothing this woman can’t kill? Morythine thinks approvingly as Kala’s javelin skewers the monster that stole his hat. Pleased to find the tricorn remains in good condition, he places it back on his head with a sigh of relief.
Once the zombies are dispatched, Morythine follows his companions into the next chamber, and utters a low whistle of surprise to find its contents floating about freely, and black, silent lightning creeping swiftly over the walls.
The dhampir winces when Xamarath plucks the ragged book from where it floats, but seeing this action fails to tear the fabric of reality and suck them all into the Abyss, he wanders across with interest. Though he can’t read the writing, the pictures of death and dismemberment at the hands of hideous monsters are utterly fascinating.
He nudges Zoli. “Interesting stuff, eh?”
Eugeni follows along after dispatching the zombies, careful to search everything they've come across.
Both sets of stairs are collapsed. If there is/was anything below, it can't be accessed via these stairs.
Also, going and being thorough in your search reveals a scroll of flaming sphere amongst some scraps of paper in the study (B8).
Looking up from the book, Zoli exclaims, "Her Mother? Surely she means Lamashtu -- the Mother of Monsters. That's whose holy book this is."
Pausing, she adds, "How that gets us closer to Tsuto's lover though I'm not sure. Maybe it's time now though to retire to the surface. Perhaps Father Zantus knows something of use about her."