Even in the mist, Theron was able to see Rajuna's blades snap the halberd in half. After pausing for a moment in amazement, the inquisitor nods, and replies to Raj's earlier words in celestial.
He moves forward to tend to Raj's wound while peering around to see try and figure out what was happening to everyone else. It was quiet, so hee assumed that they had won. "Hold still so I can tend to that wound..." The inquisitor begins a spell and his hand is enveloped in a white light as he reaches for the wound on the rogue's side.
"...Remind me to never get you angry," he adds a moment later with a smirk on his face as he looks back at the shattered halberd. Then, he calls out towards the rest of the group. "Is everyone alright? Lem, good thinking..."
Dragomir remains silent, head bowed staring down at his sword.
As Theron strains his eyes in an effort to see through the mist, he notices something different. There are glows in his vision... glows emanating from things he can't see. He focuses on one which is on the other side of the executioner block, and realizes that Lem is in that direction. By Iomedae.... Lem's there... and that must be his aura, since he is a cleric.
He had gone through inquisitor training involving trying to sense auras while wearing a blindfold, but had never been successful before. Why was he grasping it now of all times? Whatever the cause was, he wasn't going to let this chance go by.... he had figure this out now before he forgot the feeling.
Adrenaline spent, Raj sags against a crenelation until Theron's healing touch knits the rent in his side. He smiles as the pain subsides to a dull ache. "I owe ya one... maybe two. Thanks for steppin' in there. Would have been ugly, if you hadn't."
"...Remind me to never get you angry,"
He smiles grimly. "I'm a hazard if yur made a wood." Raj turns his mind in the strange set of perambulations that he's beginning to associate with spellcasting in an attempt to clean himself up. The blood, dust, and grime sloughs off his clothes and person like an old snake-skin.
Dragomir shakes himself and sees' Lem pointing at the headsman block and making a flipping motion at it.
He sheaths his sword and wanders over to it. He stands next to it a moment, making a symbol of Pharasma over his heart as he murmurs to himself and then picks up the block and grunting from the effort, hurls it from off the balcony.
Easier than carrying it down the stairs, he says laconically. We can get it on the way out.
The thief resets one of his arm sheaths but keeps another blade in his belt when it isn't in his hand. Rajuna's eyes invariably drift towards the weapons rack and the door near it. He doesn't approach the portal until after everyone has rested and recovered from the battle. He sniffs around it, leery of the rack and the necromantic evil that clearly surrounds the prison.
He searches the area carefully for traps or dangers before trying the lock on the door.
Walter repeated the mantra he'd recited earlier, giving it a rhythmic, koan-like treatment: "Ow, ow ow ow ow-owowowow. Ow ow. Owww," he grunted as he limped across the courtyard to the group.
After he arrived, he lifted a blood-red hand to show the gash on his leg. A minor wound, but still an inconvenience, and it appeared especially painful to Walter who looked like he'd never really been in a fist fight in his life.
He glanced up. "That was fun. Kind of relaxing. Can we do that again?" he said with pitiable sarcasm as he lowered himself into a sit, resting along the uneven masonry of the executioner's plaza. Turning more serious, he asked "Is everyone okay?"
His sarcasm made him think, however, and he wondered for a moment a world where the longsword had just cut him deep in the heart and he'd bled out on the steps of Harrowstone. He wondered what the Bresrin's would think, what Vesmera would say, and if they'd bury him next to the Professor. The thought of dying made him a little sick.
A single voice piped out of the darkness: "You're here forever."
Good, he thought. They're not gone. And I'm imagining a boss ghost that yelled them into submission. He rested his head in his hands for a moment to pass the time until they started moving again.
Septimus stares with mouth slightly agape as the furious combat concludes all around him. "Yesterday was a bad day to stop drinking," he says, stowing his bomb once more. "Thankfully, it seems like we have things well under control for now. Yet having clashed with sticks and stones and bones, I'm anxious to see what awaits us inside the walls themselves."
He smirks slightly at Walter's attempt at sarcasm, but something nags at him. The boy is obviously touched in the head - but the same could have been said for me at that age. Or this age, for that matter. He's certainly got more guts than I had, burying myself in books, already learning when the publican took a break with his pipe to swipe choice bottles whose disappearance might go unnoticed for just long enough to fill them up with tinted pond water...
The alchemist's smirk wavers, his expression a mix of pity, thoughtfulness, and perhaps disgust. He walks over toward Walter and puts a hand on his shoulder, offering him one of the vials he prepared this morning.
"Drink this, kid. It'll take the sting out of that wound. And, well..." he pauses for a moment, and the next words seem to come at the expense of some internal struggle, "...you did good."
The threats seemingly gone, Rose takes a moment to check the room for magical auras, hoping nothing else was coming for the moment. "Dragomir, that last strike against the mace was truly impressive, nothing I could do without the aid of my spells. I must admit I'm a tad jealous."
Her scan of the room done, she turns to her sword, checking to see what damage was done from her strikes. "This will need a good sharpening after we're done here. That was definitely not it's intended use."
It... wasn't all me, Dragomir said thoughtfully, but I don't want to talk about it right now.
It... wasn't all me, Dragomir said thoughtfully, but I don't want to talk about it right now.
Theron gives Dragomir a surprised look and remembers the blessing the man had received earlier. He couldn't possibly still be benefiting from that blessing he received the other day... could he? Just how much divine aid is he receiving?
After a moment, Theron shakes his head and speaks up. "I think I can manage one more healing spell today if anyone needs one. I don't think it is worth using on the remains of this wound." The inquisitor massages the partially healed wound that he received from the halberd, and idly wished that he could call upon that particular power that he had just used in anything other than a life or death situation.
After the holy water stops steaming on the block and Dragomir disposes of it, Lem will walk around the room and bless it with holy water, starting near the stairs and moving toward the weapon rack.
I claim this place in the name of the Great Dreamer. Vengeful spirits depart, that you may find your own eternal rest.
Raj chuckles at Lem's announcement. "The Great Dreamer can have it. I'm not buildin' a summer house here."
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"Drink this, kid. It'll take the sting out of that wound. And, well..." he pauses for a moment, and the next words seem to come at the expense of some internal struggle, "...you did good."
Walter looks sheepish and takes the potion. He swirls it once as he looks at it, skeptically, and then drinks it all down in one go.
"That was definitely not poison," a voice crooned in his head sarcastically.
Walter offered the vial back to Septimus. "Um, thanks," he said, unsure if he was thanking him for his comment or the strange flavored liquid that made his leg wound stop burning.
It takes a minute or two for the mist to clear, but soon the balcony is silent once more.
It takes a good two minutes or so of flicking holy water on the block and intoning catechisms for the steaming to stop; although it seems that Lem's first assault with a whole vial of the stuff knocked most of the metaphorical stuffing out of the block. (Your aspergillum will be emptied by the act of 'purifying' the execution block.) But eventually, the timber block does become quiescent.
However, because it was (a) an excellent idea and (b) it provided a means for you to deal some one-off damage to the weapons, I made something happen.
Similarly smart ideas will be rewarded in the future, but don't expect to find a 'focus' for any other haunts onto which you may dump holy water. : )
The execution block detects as moderate evil. The building itself detects as faint evil.
When you turn to look at Lem, you are stunned for one round.
Heh, just kidding. : )
(Or am I?)
; )
Rajuna's eyes invariably drift towards the weapons rack and the door near it.
The weapons rack still has a few weapons in it--spears, halberds and longswords. No amount of poking, prodding or throwing things at the rack elicits any response.
Yep, all your feats/discoveries/whatnot are immediately available. I appreciate it when a player makes an effort to contextualise their new abilities like Theron did, but nobody needs to do it. : )
EDIT: this does apply to spells/formulas in books, but not to spell slots themselves. You will need to rest for those.
The threats seemingly gone, Rose takes a moment to check the room for magical auras, hoping nothing else was coming for the moment.
Nothing is obvious. Of course, the stone walls of the prison look like they'd be thick enough to prevent you seeing inside, but nothing's on the balcony with you. The executioner's block, even before Dragomir lobs it unceremoniously over the side, doesn't detect as magical.
After the holy water stops steaming on the block and Dragomir disposes of it, Lem will walk around the room and bless it with holy water, starting near the stairs and moving toward the weapon rack.
I claim this place in the name of the Great Dreamer. Vengeful spirits depart, that you may find your own eternal rest.
There is no overt response from any spirits or the building.
He searches the area carefully for traps or dangers before trying the lock on the door.
Raj, finding no traps, begins work on the lock--but after a few seconds he finds himself frustrated. This is a well-built lock, as you might expect on a prison building.
Rajuna grunts and gets to working seriously on the impressive lock.
The execution block detects as moderate evil. The building itself detects as faint evil.When you turn to look at Lem, you are stunned for one round.
Heh, just kidding. : )
(Or am I?)
; )
"Be careful, the execution block is still tainted with evil," Theron says, before adding, "I believe being surrounded by so many conflicting auras here has helped me find the knack for sensing them."
It takes Raj a good couple of minutes...but he does manage to pop the lock open.
Inside is a short hallway ending in another door--although this one is plain timber and looks like it hasn't weathered the years very well. The floor is made from timber floorboards that have spent the last fifty years warping into strange shapes. The walls are plaster, as is the ceiling, which is 12 feet high.
There is a timber bench seat along the north wall, with rings set into the floorboards. Perhaps this was where the condemned sat to await their execution.
This room appears to have been left relatively unscathed over the last fifty years, most likely thanks to the sturdy door protecting it from the elements.
###
Feel free to place yourselves on the map, I think you should all have editing rights. It's when we get past this door that your positioning will start to matter, so don't stress about it just yet (or try to fit everyone into the room at once, necessarily!).
The execution block isn't there any more, but I thought I'd include it to help you orient yourselves.
Let me know if anything is unclear!
Raj catfoots across the undulating floor, senses honed for danger. He inspects the door for threats, more out of professional pride than any belief it might actually be trapped.
Walter hangs at the door, suspiciously glancing into the room. The contrast of staring into the dark room from the brightened terrace made him squint. He sniffed at the musty air, and made sure to give everyone else the space they needed. He didn't mind being in the back. It wasn't like he was scared of the dark...
-
Raj quickly finds that the door is unlocked--but that it has become stuck fast in its frame as damp has expanded the timber over the years. Chancing a quiet but powerful shove, Raj attempts to open the door, but it requires some assistance from Dragomir before the two of them tear the door out of its hinges--the rotten timber splintering as they do--before quietly putting it aside.
GM FIAT SAYS: you have not alerted anything to your presence by busting the door off its hinges.
When Raj cautiously pokes his head through the doorway, he sees a cellblock ahead. All the door are made of iron bars, although some lie on the floor, half-out in the hallway, having fallen off their hinges.
To Raj's left (the east) is a mess hall, the tables lying in disarray . At the other end of the mess hall is a yawning opening to the outside, where the wall has collapsed.
Rose follows Rajuna, sword at the ready, and checks the areas ahead for magical auras. "South first and check the cells?" She asks aloud.
By the way, can anyone who is moving through the door into the cellblock please make me two Perception checks. Thanks.
Nothing is obvious to your enhanced senses.
Sorry about that... just couldn't get any leverage, he says as he squeezes past Raj after he does the bulk of the work on breaking down the door.
Anyone else want to follow Dragomir through into the cell block?
And Dragomir, can you make me two Perception checks please? Ta.
I will hold off any further description/exposition until the other-side-of-the-world folks have had an opportunity to post. : )
Rajuna nods at Rose's suggestion and heads off South, fang held casually.
-
-
Rose follows Rajuna inside.
Karrik, blood still pounding with frustration-laden adrenaline, wipes at the nick on his neck as he kicks the longsword with all his considerable strength -- sending it tumbling through the air and off the wall to the prison yard below.
Karrik follows the others in, blade stowed for the moment but one of his Shield scrolls carefully tucked into his belt for easy retrieval. He hangs near Walter and Lem, not wanting to leave either of them exposed to the prison's own particular brand of disguised dangers. He finds a time to speak a few words to each of them as the team moves warily forward.
He places a thick hand on Walter's shoulder, "That took some real steel back there. I'm sure glad you chose to come with us." Then he passes forward to Lem, these words coming more haltingly and -- it's obvious to Lem -- with some reservation, "That fight would have been far more difficult without your actions… and by extension Desna."
He remains quietly vigilant, knowing that this stage of the prison entrance lies more within the experience of Rajuna.