"Asking you to cast a new spell with confidence as acid falls on you from the sky might be foolish." Despite bing in full plate Iyon almost keeps pace with a horse, a combination of trainning and magic.
Rurik shields his eyes as he studies the approaching rain clouds.
"Given what we've heard, I'd wager those are some of the infamous acid rains we were warned against. Ammonis, if you don't mind, I'd rather not bathe in such perilous waters. Could you keep your spell prepared? If it does prove to be acidic, escaping into your hut could be a boon."
He rubs at his bearded jawline. "Though... that would mean having no adequate shelter for tonight. Damn it. I'd say use the spell now and save us for a foe we can't fight, and if needs be we make this first foray a day trip and return to the Camp tonight."
The low hanging clouds advance, and as they draw nearer you can plainly see that they are carrying a misty curtain of precipitation.
They are approximately five minutes away.
Should we fear even the rain in this thirsty land? I will do as you do, but it must be done soon. The storm approaches like the bull.
Ulave points to his donkey, Xote. Ai, the poor beast looks as if he's seen a giant. He's no champion and would run the other way, if I let him.
Fey, disappear from sight, and scout out our perimeter. If you see any approaching dangers or if you happen upon some shelter nearby. Do not be gone longer than a few minutes, do not go far from the road.
Turning to his companions Ammonis shares his thoughts. To live in the wastes is to be cautious, but not so cautious that you find yourself in a corner. I will prepare two of these spells from now on.
If I cast this spell then it means we will not be camping under it later..unless we stay here for at least 9 hours, so that I may study it again after rest. Or we head back to Camp afterwards.
"I also say that we cast the spell now. We will not lack for fresh water. I can create it at will, though we will need containers to avoid spillage.", Agyen adds with a thin smile.
Ammonis waits until Fey returns from her quick scouting. Upon her return, barring no sign of danger or alternative forms of shelter, Ammonis casts tiny hut.
This spell will last a little more than half a day or until I step out from under it...so perhaps I should relieve myself now before I create my own prison.
CASTING
Casting Time 1 standard action
Components V, S, M (a small crystal bead)
EFFECT
Range 20 ft.
Effect 20-ft.-radius sphere centered on your location
Duration 2 hours/level (D)
Saving Throw none; Spell Resistance no
By the way…
The effects created by this spell move with a ship.
Source Skull & Shackles Player’s Guide
DESCRIPTION
You create an unmoving, opaque sphere of force of any color you desire around yourself. Half the sphere projects above the ground, and the lower hemisphere passes through the ground. As many as nine other Medium creatures can fit into the field with you; they can freely pass into and out of the hut without harming it. However, if you remove yourself from the hut, the spell ends.
The temperature inside the hut is 70° F if the exterior temperature is between 0° and 100° F. An exterior temperature below 0° or above 100° lowers or raises the interior temperature on a 1-degree-for-1 basis. The hut also provides protection against the elements, such as rain, dust, and sandstorms. The hut withstands any wind of less than hurricane force, but a hurricane (75+ mph wind speed) or greater force destroys it.
The interior of the hut is a hemisphere. You can illuminate it dimly upon command or extinguish the light as desired. Although the force field is opaque from the outside, it is transparent from within. Missiles, weapons, and most spell effects can pass through the hut without affecting it, although the occupants cannot be seen from outside the hut (they have total concealment).
"A fine point, Ammonis. Just in case, I shall do likewise."
"I have no wish to test the deadly acidic nature of this rain while passing water!" Iyon chuckles as he moves off to the side the empty his bladder.
Rurik shakes his head in bemused manner as his companions bond over taking a piss before being pissed on in turn, and with a curt laugh follows their example, rocking back and forth on his feet as he does so.
After heeding the call of nature, Ammonis produces a small crystal bead and gestures dramatically. An opaque sphere of force, twenty feet in diameter, springs into existence around him. All are able to comfortably but snugly fit inside, even the donkey, Xote. While this would no doubt provide adequate shelter in times of need, the prospect of spending more than an hour or two inside is daunting.
Although opaque from the outside, it is transparent from within, and are you able to clearly see the storm cloud's advance. Before very long at all, the tell-tale patter of raindrops signals the shower, and a torrential downpour follows. It is a memorable experience, watching and hearing the cascade of rainwater purl down the side of an invisible wall of force. It is very brief, lasting no more than a minute before the cloud passes overhead and moves lazily off to the east, into what is marked on your map as 'the ashen waste'. The chymic aroma of the rain lingers, however, indicating that it was, indeed, more than mundane water.
Thank you Ammonis for the blessing of this shelter. Now I understand better why this land is barren. And yet, I wonder why it is these storms do not reach the Camp.
"An excellent question," says Rurik, treading warily on the damp dirt. [b]"Perhaps the Usurer is more powerful than we suspected? Or perhaps the ground on which the camp stands is an oasis of sorts, sheltered from such storms by a twist of magic or fate? Worth following up on."
Seeing that the soles of his boots aren't burning away, he turns to Ammonis with a smile. "And that was a fantastically useful spell. Excellent work! I also noticed that the temperature was quite pleasing - given how hostile this environment is, I imagine we'll be making use of that spell quite frequently."
That said, he quickly scans the area around them for any alignments, and then hefts his pack. "Onwards?"
It is tiring to be the cautious man, but still I must. If we leave there is a risk. I cannot provide further magical shelter until after I rest.
Ammonis looks up The sun is high, half the day gone. I will be the boring vote. Back to camp. Better prepare the next day.
Or spend the day and night here, and continue on in the morning. This hut will last until an hour or two before dawn.
"An excellent choice indeed, Ammonis. All things considered, I am in agreement with Ammonis. If we must wait anyway, best to do it with other resources nearby."
"Let us at least go back by a different route to get a better lay of the land."
We can..What do you think of warning not to leave the road?
Rurik scowls out across the waste.
"Probably a wise one, to be honest. But we're also very close to the camp. I vote that we take a different route back so as to learn more about the immediate environs."
All right then. Let us into the wastes.
Fey dearie, fly up above and keep a look out as we travel.
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The group turns to the east, Fey patrolling the sky, following the path of the rainstorm in hopes of avoiding another. Not even a small hill breaks the monotony of the landscape as it sprawls toward the horizon of “The Ashen Waste”. Lonely blows the wind across the plain, carrying with it white dust that coats everything it touches--armor, weapons, noses, throats, eyes--with a chalky layer. The howling of the wind speaks in the voices of those souls lost long ago in the battles of ancient days. The monotony of this bleak land is broken only by the occasional barrow mound raised by the armies of old to inter there honored dead before finally retiring from the field in the fateful flight that ended in the Forest of Hope.
Perhaps surprisingly, the hour-long hike back to camp is uneventful, and you arrive unmolested.
_________________________
Ulave trudged back to The Camp, pensive and at unease. A creature, undead, an unholy abomination, dwelt in that place, and Ulave did not know what to do.
Unmake it.
The making of an undead is an abominable act, and the evil of its making endures, written in the flesh or bones of the corpse. But the undead has no soul of its own to be weighed in Amna's scales. If the victim's soul did not escape, then it is bound in cordons of evil energy, to be unloosed only when the energy sustaining the undead is dissipated. Ulave has felt the joy of these souls at their release from bondage. Bondage that his Goddess, through his hand, had freed them from. There is no evil in destroying the undead. No evil, unless...
Ulave spit to the bone white dirt.
Maybe, I am a fool to think such thoughts, but the undertaker is a symptom of the disease that afflicts this settlement, not the disease itself. I must find out what purpose it serves! What does it do with the bodies of the departed?
Inquisitor, if you are not too tired, let us visit the undertaker and see what has become of the recent dead.
I'll come, if only to make sure you don't get silly, Ulave.
And when have I ever become silly, Cornu? But you may come if you wish.
"I will join ye, out of curiosity at the ways of this strange place. And tonight, I shall be ready to keep watch once I have spent the first two hours asleep."
Rurik wipes at the white dust that streaks his face and cakes his beard, and then nods in grim agreement, falling in line with the paladin and others as they trudge through the camp.
[b]"Are you willing to speak with him without drawing your weapon?"
Ammonis snickered. Rurik, Ulave said he was not silly.
Why no, I do not think I am. He gives a short laugh, and then sighs.
You, Rurik, are the Inquisitor.
"I'll start setting up camp and cooking dinner. I'm not in the mood to get in an argument with locals right now!"
Lyon obviously thinkgs that Ulave is gonna get silly.
"Iyon, shout should you require us swiftly."
Out away from the rest of the Camp sits a long, low structure with a rounded roof composed of poorly cured hides lashed to sticks. A horrible death smell permeates the entire area, obviously emanating from the structure. In short order, Griswald appears. He’s quite urbane for a carrion-eating undead beast, wearing his threadbare but well-cared-for formal suit.
”Sssalutations once again,” he says in his pleasant, cultivated accent, though follows with a disappointed sigh: ”I sssee that you all are, mmm, alive and well. Nonethelesss, our prior meeting occurred on sssuch unfortunate terms, I have been mossst eager for a proper introduction.”
He gives a stiff, creaking bow. ”How do you, mmm, do?”
Ulave's hands clench, but does not answer. Instead, he turns his eyes away from the creature and toward the building.
Satisfied, he approaches the building's entrance, not waiting for an invitation from the undertaker. At the doorstep, he turns and looks back.
You will speak to the Inquisitor, and will tell him all that he wishes to know.
Ulave disappears inside.
Ammonis sighs, but with understanding. I believe he is curious about your embalming process...but indeed, answer the Inquistor's questions.
Griswald turns to watch Ulave intrude upon his home. If he's surprised, he doesn't show it. Maybe that's because many of his facial features have rotted away. "Pleassse, make yourssself, mmm, comfortable."
Griswald allows the tips of his decomposing fingers to flutter together in excitement. "Oh, dear me, an inquisssitor! What shall we discusss?"
Ulave studies the room carefully, seeking out any taint of evil, or of anything unusual.
Grimly, Ulave begins to examine the corpses, muttering prayers as he does so to steady his mind.
As Ulave continues his inspection, he thinks about all that he has learned of the lore of the tsar. Were there any tales in it that might tell us something about the ghast undertaker?
Some of the corpses have quite clearly been...eaten.
So, Grizzy. What do you charge for your services? Do you offer options? I think I am partial to cremation...but that may not be your forte, I'd guess. Ammonis cannot help but find a perverse humor in it all.
Agyen looks around, seeking anything unusual.
Griswald smiles. "My ssservices are rendered gratuitousssly. Tragedy befallsss many in thisss place. I am called upon nearly daily in the retrieval of the remainsss of the dearly departed."
"Optionsss? No, I fear not. Sssimple and, mmm, inconssspicuous management is the sssingular ssservice I offer."
Does seem to work out nicely. And umm, you have enough around to keep you ...satisfied. Ammonis' curiosity is also satisfied that nothing more nefarious than the undead eating the dead is occurring. He walks back to camp to setup for the night. Just don't let me end up in there.
Ammonis sets up his tent, methodically removing the canvas from his pack. Perhaps the acid rains do not come over this town, or perhaps they do. The others would have to make due outside. He sits, waiting for the others to settle down, and then begins his watch. He casts a magical armor about him and sets up an alarm spell over the camp's perimeter.
Fey, his little winged friend, stays with him, hovering about on her silken wings. Her dark vision was extraordinary. Can see 60 paces way even in complete darkness. Perfect for the watch.
Agyen sets up his tent, not especially concerned with being in the middle of the formation.
I shall spend little enough time in it.
Once he has rested, he will begin his vigil, spear in hand.
Ulave lay down in his tent away from the sight of the pale distant stars. But before him, he could only see the ghastly horror of the undead undertaker's lair.
He wondered why he had not acted to destroy the ghast. Fear? Doubt? Disbelief?
One by one, he contemplated the faces he had seen. One or two had died in relative peace, but most had died horribly. The woman with fair hair and the missing ear, her mouth stretched back in a primal scream. The old man with only a wisp of long white hair sticking out from his ridiculous hat, his belly torn open, entrails twisted in sickening confusion. The giant, two of Ulave's arrows protruding from his blackened eye, about which wisps of his lady's power wound clingingly.
None of them had been Eddwick. and for that, he felt gratitude.
"How was the undertaker?" Iyon questions as he starts serving up a simple stew of sorts into some bowls for the others. "I have to admit I wasn't entirely sure what to expect from this place but this wasn't it." He shakes his head as he starts scoop a piece of jerky from the stew.
This night, the Desolation sends clouds of white dust billowing through the camp. Even the moon is hazy.
It is during the sixth hour, while others sleep and Agyen remains the sole lookout, that you receive your visitor.
A shuffling emanates from the east, as though someone were slowly but incessantly dragging their feet. Out of the darkness a dark figure emerges. It is a man, but not one you care to meet. The creature has pale skin pulled tight over its bones. Its head hangs at an odd angle, seemingly unsupported by a broken neck. A rotted noose and several feet of rope hang from its throat and trail off behind it.
Its eyes have no pupils.
They are locked upon Agyen.
Ammonis's alarm is triggered. The high pitched ring of a bell fills the camp, waking the blissful dreamers.
Before Agyen has a chance to react, the creature shambles forward, the rotted rope flying out at him on its own accord.
It is headed straight for his neck.
hit
___________________________
Initiative (bold may act):
Agyen
Hanged Man
Agyen: 45/45
Cornu: 44/44
Lyon: 62/67
Rurik: 60/60
Ulave: 53/53
Damn. the Cornu mutters at the blaring sound. He pulls himself out of his tent, too stiffly I need my sleep in my old age Irritable and too tired to subtle, Ammonis defaults to slinging rays of searing death at..whatever the hell it was that was coming up to the camp.
As the rope reaches out for Agyen's neck, any late night witnesses would see time slow, reverse slightly...
Rewind Time (Su): Once per day as an immediate action, you can reroll any one d20 roll that you have just made before the results of the roll are revealed. You must take the result of the reroll, even if it’s worse than the original roll. At 11th level, and every four levels thereafter, you can use this ability an additional time per day. You must be at least 7th level to select this revelation.
...and the rope speeds up to snare Agyen all the same, just from a slightly different angle.
He yells, at the top of his voice...
"UNDEAD! IT HAS SNARED ME! AWAKEN!"
...as he himself begins to flicker.
As a standard action, you can flicker in and out of time, gaining concealment (as the blur spell). You can use this ability for 1 minute per oracle level that you possess per day. This duration does not need to be consecutive, but it must be spent in 1-minute increments. At 7th level, each time you activate this ability, you can treat it as the blink spell, though each round spent this way counts as 1 minute of your normal time flicker duration. You must be at least 3rd level to select this revelation.
Ammonis feels Fey uncurl her form from his neck. The faerie dragon whispers some oily words.
Initiative (bold may act):
Iyon
Rurik
Ulave
Ammonis
Agyen
Hanged Man