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Between the severed tendrils being ripped out of her and that last hit, Imrizade is looking very near death's door, but the ancient Osirion man behind/around her forces her body to continue. You do notice that she is not healing nearly as much as she had been. A flash of multicolored light covers the room, hitting Elwyn, Grundle, and Zombie 1 and 3.
(DC 11)
(DC 11)
Group 1
Garak
Grundle
Leonel
Imrizade
Group 2
Griflet
Elwyn
Angruf
Evigail
Group 3
Fast Zombie 1
Fast Zombie 3
Fast Zombie 5
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Griflet charges and flanks with Grundle against zombie 3, cleaving it even with his broken great sword as Elwyn slice at the one near him, though not enough to put it down for good. Angruf continues to inspire greatness within himself and his allies, drops his crossbow, draws a dagger and throws it, hoping to finish the job.
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As Evigail calls on his divine powers, a sort of mastery of the very forces of life and death, zombie 1 catches fire, overcome with the positive energy that floods the room.
The final undead takes minimal damage, seemingly resisting the energy and either directed by the strange male ghost or just outright attacking the nearest living meat, swings a few times at Leonel.
<vs AC 16>
<vs AC 16>
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Garak slashes at the remaining zombie, but can't land a solid hit. Grundle's flails whirl, striking the remaining tentacles with enough force that they are pulled from Imrazide's body, leaving strange bored holes that do not heal. Her body so close to death, her will locked away behind the chains of a possessing ghost, it forces her to push on. Chanting begins, barely a whisper, still in that strange male voice, the spidery words of magic. A final spell, a last resort, meant to devastate both his enemies and even the body he controls, if need be. Arcane magic crackles at his hands as he summons it, focuses it.
"Ade Due, . . . Damballa! . . . ", he continues, forcing his will over the elements, until, with a look of shock, followed by horror, the ghost stops, looking at Leonel, standing over the remains of his strange canoptic container, sword covered in what was once his preserved brain. It only takes a second, but with an unending scream, the spirit of Kuburrum Ishme-Dagan is destroyed, freeing Imrizade.
Wounded nearly to death, she falls to her knees. Her darker Osirioni skin is now pale, and wounds still occupy both the sites where the tentacles had plunged themselves into her as well as the wound in her chest from the rifle shot, not fully healed. Though still pained, in the extreme, a small smile, one that conveys the truest appreciation and respect one can show is such a simple gesture crosses her face as she looks at all of you, for saving her, but also for stopping the creature from using her, from opening the portal, from who knows what else. Her now dark green eyes fill with tears, ones she had been forced to hold back from pain up until now, but now due to relief.
Unable to force her body to remain erect, even on her knees, she falls, face first into the dais. Behind her, the softly glowing green portal flashes, then again. After a few seconds, it does so again, followed by another and another much more quickly. Soon it flares and then grows dark at the rate of 1 second, and then many times within a second, playing strange tricks on your eyes and mind, which can not adapt to the light and darkness within the room fast enough to keep up. One section of the portal cracks, sending a large green lightning bolt through the room. Then another crack, and a third. A forth, more lightning. Finally, unable to handle it's own energies, the portal, it's strange metal beyond it's own limit, tumbles, collapsing to the ground. The metal, whatever it is, continues to glow, though in smaller portions, it sheds less light. It manages to miss most of Imrizade's nearly unclothed body, but not by much. Her breathing is fast, shallow, and noticeably labored.
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Evigail rushes forward, carried slightly on the same magical winds that he had used as a weapon torrent before. At her side, he begins to ask for divine aid in healing the woman, and her wounds begin to close, knitting together more naturally than she'd been healing just moments before. While (s)he is administering aid, the others quickly finish off the last zombie, hardly even a threat. Garak, Griflet, and Grundle, , gather up the remains of the canister, which should suffice for Major Maldris's request, and bag it.
Imrizade begins to turn, and finally rises to a knee. Confused, but not angry, "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asks weakly.
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Still weak and exhausted, , Pathfinders? What are you doing here? I mean, how, how did you even know. . .? I am Imrizade Blakros, and on behalf of the Blakros family, thank you. As much as I hate to think of it that way, you have "saved the princess". And I promise that you will be rewarded. But what chest are you talking about?"
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"Have him stop! It's not what you think. . ." she tries to call out. The others help her up and all make their way to the small chest. "I saw him do it, and . . . I know what it was. Or rather, . . . he made my body do it. It was, . . . it was actually a total of three traps, . . . with an additional enchantment. Particularly nasty. . . cruel. Obviously you have seen through the illusion. That was one. Another was the small stone to the side, . . . which I see is gone, so I'm guessing you . . . got that one too. The one you just turned off was meant . . . meant to shock everyone in the room close enough. But the last part,. . ." she nods t those helping hold her up to lower her a bit, she reaches down and indicates small hidden panel that slides open, hiding a switch. "That bastard. . . that cruel bastard rigged this with some sort of magic,. . . one that would call forth a demonic swarm to attack. He had intended that the illusion would prevent, . . . anyone from realizing either the alarm or the magic of the trap, and simply open it. The Alarm stone would have screamed, alerting anyone in the museum, and given him time to prepare for you. You got lucky, but then again,. . . I do not think he had know or planned for Pathfinders."
With a smile and a nod to indicate it is safe, Elwyn opens the chest, which is completely empty save for a small scrap of paper, written in a fine, but very old Osirion, one that matches exactly the later entries in Imrizade's journal you had seen earlier. Essentially it reads "Gotcha!!"