Karl freezes for a moment when his axe turns into a torch after shattering the skeleton's torso. His shock is short-lived though. He lopes down the hallway, axe raised high and trailing flame like a brand, the flickering light painting his face a lurid orange. He swings at the collapsed Father Charlatan. Hoping to bury the burning axehead in the grotesque corpse's face.
This all flashes through his mind in a few moments and he decides to accept the pull and return to his own body. His attempt to get the book is what triggered this so it is clearly an object of importance.
Round 4
HP: 12/17
"Keep at it, Shanoa, he's starting to look like he's had enough!"
Attack Longsword
Damage
Attack Shield Bash
Damage
Round Four
23 Karl
19 Shanoa
17 Oorin
17 Roland
16 Cassandra
14 Skeletons - DEAD
08 Darren
08 Father Charlatan
Karl lashes out at the reeling undead but aims too high!
Shanoa again brings the holy symbols into the fight, flaying them against Father's temple, bringing a howl of anger and pain!
Surprising everyone, Oorin begins moving around, opening his eyes and leaping up! Whatever foul sorcery held him down has been defeated!
Cassandra moves forward and casts a spell, touching Darren.
Darren executes a skewering strike with his longsword, thrusting through Father's shoulder.
Father, though broken and bleeding, looks upward and roars in a ear-shattering voice.
Next round!
Oorin is still adjusting to being back in his body and the roar seems muted somehow.
Fort Save
Darren looks back gratefully at Cassandra as she heals him, but then Father Charlatan's ear-shattering scream knocks him back into the fight.
Round 5
HP: 16/19
With a loud roar of his own, Darren continues his onslaught.
Attack Longsword
Damage
Attack Shield Bash
Damage
When Oorin's turn comes around he's going to make for the book Cassandra pointed out to him.
Though his ears still ring with Father Charlatan's horrid roar, Karl takes another swing at the reeking copse after moving to flank it with Darren.
Round Five
23 Karl
19 Shanoa
17 Oorin
17 Roland
16 Cassandra
14 Skeletons - DEAD
08 Darren
08 Father Charlatan
Karl slashes deep into Father Charlatan's torso, drawing a horrible shriek from the undead monster known as Father Charlatan! He falls to the ground, tearing at the floor trying to regain his footing. His struggles become weaker and weaker, until he finally reaches toward the sky, his face a mask of fear!
His arm falls back down and his body goes limp. Father Charlatan is no more.
In Shanoa's hand, the tangled group of holy symbols suddenly writhe and twist. In her hand are twelve individual holy symbols, each polished and shining as if newly crafted on brilliant silver chains.
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Great job all. Father Charlatan is dead, and the holy symbols that were once infested with his evil acts have been purified by your actions.
Oorin picks up the book; wondering about it's importance.
Karl wrenches the axe out of Father Charlatan's gut and kicks the corpse for good measure.
Shanoa, Oorin, are you all right? He kicks the corpse again. Is it dead?
He also looks wonderingly at the scythe that Oorin has been carrying around. Do you want a hand with that, Oorin? And what happened to you? One moment you were unconscious, the next you seem right as rain!
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Shanoa sighs as she stares at the mangled corpse on the ground. "Yes, I'm fine." She picks out a holy symbol from the collection in her hand that matches the symbol on her back - a rose growing out of a bloodstained cobblestone street, placing it around her neck before stowing the rest. "He won't be corrupting any more innocents."
Cassandra looks aoud the corridor and turns back to the group, "Everyone, I think... Aaahhhh!".
Before she can finish her sentence, a pair of elongated ghostly arms reach up out of the floor, grab Cassandra, and pull her straight down through the wooden planks as if she was an incorporeal spirit!
"Do you want a hand with that, Oorin? And what happened to you? One moment you were unconscious, the next you seem right as rain!"
"Indeed," Roland chimes in. "Is everything all right?"
Before Oorin can answer, Roland's attention is caught by a scream.
"Everyone, I think... Aaahhhh!"
Roland watches in horror. After a palpable moment of shocked silence he clears his throat.
"We just can't catch a break."
Karl gathers up his javelin and checks Father Charlatan's corpse for anything of interest or value. The roof, then the basement. He nods grimly to Shanoa. Let's finish this.
Father Charlatan's corpse is rapidly decomposing, and you find nothing of value in the remains.
You head for the roof and look around for several minutes. It does not appear anything related to your tasks is to be found here.
Oorin was thumbing through the Father's rambling diary when Cassandra's scream cut through the air. He dropped the book and fumbled for his Xbow but she was already gone.
Rather shaken, he can't help looking at his feet, he says, "Ah, I'm fine, I think. Somehow the "Father" entered my mind (or pulled mine into his) but I appear to have been successful in our battle of wills. This diary of his is just ravings. Useful for scholarly study perhaps but no benefit to use immediately, I think."
Trying to regain his composure he hefts up the scythe, "This is a little unwieldy for me to carry around. I'm fairly certain there's more than one enchantment on it, though I don't know how useful a weapon any of you might find it."
Enchanted weapons don't just fall out of the sky. We can take it with us.
Roland is wringing his hands as the group checks the roof.
"We must hurry downstairs and see if there's anything we can do for Miss. Cassandra," he said, voice quavering. "Though... it is certain that three of the monsters are lurking below."
The Mosswater Marauder.
The Lopper.
Splatter Man.
"It looks like a wicked weapon, to be sure -- I get chills just looking at it, though, thinking of the evils in its past. We'll bring it along, I suppose, but I hope we needn't wield it."
As the group rushes downstairs, they encounter another individual entering the prison through the main doors.
The doors burst open to the clang of steel on flagstone. A flowing red cape flutters from the shoulders of a large man encased in highly polished full plate. A bastard sword clutched in his hands, the knight scans room looking for foul beast. Seeing the group rushing down the stairs he roars,"Who are thou and why are you covered in the liquid of life!?!" The five flaming wings plated in gold upon his breastplate seem to glow in unison with his fury.
Roland collides with Shanoa's back, and catches her arm to prevent the two of them falling down the stairs.
"Who are thou and why are you covered in the liquid of life!?"
"Friends!" Roland shouts back, nervously, sweat beading his brow. "In Pharazma's name we're friends!"
Oh, Professor... why did you get me tangled up in this?
Shanoa, Roland, Oorin, is it another spirit? This one seems, livelier... Karl checks himself for signs of life liquid.
Lifting the visor of his helm, Franc continues to eye the assembled group with suspicion before easing his harsh demeanor. "Sir Franc DuMein. Sword of Ragathiel, Battle Chaplain of the Five Winged Lord. And who might you be and what are you doing in this dreadful place?", he finishes with a quizzical look upon his alabaster face.
"That is precisely why I have come to this damned place. I seek to lay those very spirits to rest. Who is this citizen you speak of? Was he a friend of your's?"
He was a great friend to all of us. His name was Petros Lorrimor. I am Karl. Who is Ragatheil? I have never heard of him before.
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Shanoa shifts uncomfortably, unsure how much to share with this newcomer. Still, he didn't seem to have an evil aura, and he certainly wasn't one of the undead here or cultists. "He was. A respected man, Professor Lorrimor. He was investigating this place when he died. And as we've already lost two of our own within these walls, I can now easily see why...only a fool would come here alone." She narrows her gaze at the knight. "How did you come to know of this place?"
At the name Lorrimor, Franc's face tightens and a trembling rage shakes his body. In a hiss of a voice he says,"Was he murdered? Lorrimor was a lso a friend of mine. It wounds me deeply to hear of his fall, though it does not surprise me. And if you mean to insult me woman you will not like the results of such a slight. Fool I am not and this will be evident should we continue down that path!" Looking at Karl, he says"Ragathiel is the supreme lord of vengeance and chivalry, elf. He is one who leads the mighty to victory over the foul and despicable."
"Now it seems we are on a similar mission being that I am now oath sworn to avenge the good professor. I shall attend to your wounded and dead, though should you see fit to cross me I will lay you low. Not the most cordial of introductions, I know, but I am sure the same thoughts are meandering through your own heads."
Karl chuckles darkly. You seem awfully sure of yourself for one facing four. Especially in this place. Hopefully your bravery will keep you alive. As for cordiality, plenty of time for that later, if there is a later. Either way, be welcome among us. We are all friends of the professor, and yes, we believe he was murdered by a foul cult known as the Whispering Way, who now seek to free the dark spirits of this place. We've sent some of the haunts to their eternal reward, but we still have at least three to contend with in the basement. Join us if you will, but mind your step lest some... thing drag you into an abyss.
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Shanoa raises an eyebrow and almost laughs. "Chivalry, eh? I don't believe any of us are badly wounded at the moment but it would be wise to deal with Arthur's body before we proceed further. Follow us back upstairs if you wish to help." She turns with a flourish, her long black hair flying out away from her back, revealing the design on her back - a rose growing out of a bloody street.
You recognize the mark on her back as the holy symbol of the goddess Milani, a lesser deity of hope, devotion, and uprisings; she is the patron of all those who fight against oppression and unjust rule.
A servant of Milani.....Hmmmmm. She doesn't seem to be of her clergy nor one her paladins. I will need to watch this one closely.
Returning the visor on his ornate helm to its battle position Franc's voice echos forth,"Lead me to your fallen comrade. We shall need to consecrate his remains and those you have slain lest you face them again."
"What manner of beast felled this man?", Franc ask as he looks about the room.
"A vengeful spirit known as The Piper. He also claimed the life of another of our friends back in town while he slept - a warrior of Iomedae."
Roland has been hanging back as the others speak with this new traveler who's joined them. At this, though, his eyes widen.
"Lady Cassandra!" He says, rather louder than he'd intended. "She was drawn into the floor by one of the fiends below! She may yet live!"
"It seems that we are facing pit fiends. The powers of the hells have been unleashed upon the dark land and it is our duty to lay them back in their filth." Looking over the assorted dead he says,"Separate your dead from those of your enemies. I will need to remove all of their heads before I consecrate their bodies. May their souls find the warmth of the Five Winged lord's arms." After the bodies have been divided Franc pulls a small vestment from his sack ad administers the last rights to the dead. Drawing his sword he then removes the head from each of the bodies. "It is done."
As you land on the floor, you notice this cavernous chamber may have once been an underground cellblock, but it has long since collapsed. The crumbled walls are thick with mold and stained with soot, and heaps of fallen stones and charred wooden beams line the area. Water drips and seeps along the walls, collecting in a dark, murky pool in the middle of the room. To the north, the twisted remains of a wood and iron lift lie in a heap in a shallow portion of the pool. A jagged hole in the roof yawns twenty feet above this ruin. To the west, a partially blocked opening seems to open up after several feet into a dark but stable tunnel.
Once they touch down, Franc frees his blade casting a spell upon it which illuminates the area around him. Looking about the large ruin he says,"Which way?"
My thanks for the light. Let's make sure there's nothing hiding in or above that lift, or in the water before we squeeze ourselves into that tunnel.
Karl creeps forward, a javelin in one hand and his burning axe in the other to examine the lift and the hole above it.
After looking around the chamber, you confirm the only exits from this room are the holes in the ceiling (leading back to the main level) and west into the partially blocked opening that leads to a dark tunnel.
Karl moves toward the ruins of the lift and finds the twisted and melted remains of what must have been the elevator between this level and the main floor. The evidence of an intense fire is all around, from the few charred wooden supports to the chain links that have been melted together.
Under and around the debris are the remains of a dozen or so humanoid figures. Burns are obvious, as are broken limbs and shattered bones. It is impossible to determine how they died, but it appears to have happened when the lift collapsed during the fire.