As Hendric smashes the thing, he realizes that, like a school fire alarm, there are multiple of these things throughout the facility—and still VERY audible .
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Staircase leads downstairs boss. All clear to here. Follow up on me... I'll let you know when the next area is clear. Keep Xon in front of you... no offense to him, but he isn't solid, so if something decides to attack I'd rather they attack him first, might save you a hit or two. Going down.
Nox continues forward, the shadows wrapped around him as he slinks, screening each turn as he goes.... THIS was his element.
A plaque above the door to the south reads:
ORGANICS LABORATORY
A similar plaque to the right side of the door to the east reads:
<— STORAGE
<— PROCESSING LABORATORY
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Nox whispers...
Organics labratory. Think Kaldane might wanna have a look at this. First rom is clear boss. Preparing to breach storage room. Careful of the glass tube in the center... contains some sort of ugly looking mold. It seems contained for the moment.
Nox moves to the door marked "Storage" and checks it for traps while he waits for his team to file down in.
To the south sits a steel door with a plaque above and to the right of it. The one above it reads:
STORAGE
The one to the right of the door reads:
<— PROCESSING LABORATORY
Additionally, Nox tastes iron and pomegranates in the air--an odd combination but one he knows well: magic.
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Nox snorts.
I am a professional Hendric, I took my potion. But the makers where smart... they didn't trap the door, they trapped the area behind it. Would have gotten a lot of folks.
He breaths deep and pulls out his tools.
I'm going to begin breaking down the magic trap. You'll have to give me a minute... explore the room while I work, make sure there wasn't anything I missed, I was just checking for traps, not looking for info.
With that he begins to slowly, carefully, begin his work.
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I think I got this boss...
It takes about half a minute for him to give a sigh.
Little to close. I got it though.
He then begins to carefully explore the new room.
Nox successfully disables the trap.
Nox also notes that the storage room door is not trapped.
PROCESSING LABORATORY
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Nox snorts.
I'm not about to waste my one use on a storage room.
He looks around the room.
Storage room has a bunch of stuff, random junk mostly.... Got something labeled "Processing Laboratory." Moving on to that.
Slowly he moves over to the laboratory door to check it for traps, check it for locked, and then open if it's clear.
vat to the ceiling to pass through various walls on their way to unseen destinations. To the south sits a simple, unlabeled, steel door.
From behind him, a simple raven flies into the chamber and perches on Hendric’s shoulder, drops a simple envelope into his hands, and flies back from whence it came.
“The fruits of our labors thus far:
Professor Kramolag has grown increasingly detached from the facility’s daily work, relying on her two closest assistants to oversee the other scientists’ work. She dispatched those assistants to report on the facility’s research—ostensibly to Aspis Consortium financiers—weeks ago. Kramolag has remained in her private lab for much of that time, emerging only to take meals and fetch mundane supplies. She was last seen less than a day ago and appeared fine.
There’s still a number of people to question, but we’ll keep you updated.
Explore, Report, Cooperate,
Janira Gavix”
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Sir Hendric informs Tortuga and Gaétan. "Professor Kramolag, who is running things here, had two assistants that left a few weeks ago to report back to the Aspis Consortium. Since then, she has stayed in her private lab almost all of the time. The scientist did see her less than a day ago and she was fine then. They will continue to question her."
He sends the same report to Nox through the Message, then adds, "Do you want us there for backup, or should we stay back here and let you rely on your stealth?"
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For now Nox replies back... Stay back. let me do my thing. Stay on the ready though... I'll be counting on you for a quick rescue, so try not to stay to far behind.
He then begins to describe the room.
Stone Pylons... tarry sludge... Kaldane might wanna take a closer look at it, see if he can identify it.
He slowly moves across the bridge towards the unmarked door, even more suspicious of it for it's inconspicuous nature.
Getting ready to breach the next door. Keep frosty.
He then sets to work... assuming nothing interrupts him.
S̸̛̈́͋̋̓͆̌̓̋̓͊̎͗͆̂́ͦͭ̕҉̬̗̲̳̱̗͕͔͕̜̭͙̝̭͙̙ͅa̛͉͍͈̪̲̰̹̖̖̜̤̲͇ͨ̽̑͗̉̏̆̈̿͑̃ͯ̈́̋ͯͥ͞͡v ̭͉̼̮̮̯̠̗̮̗͉̯̤͇͇̌͒̆ͩ͟͢͟͞͡e̽̉̒͛̽͏̧̥͙͓̲ ̵̠̩͖̠̖̝̭̆̾ͪ̐̃̿ͩͫ̓̍̃̚͞ű̸̜͇͖͒ͭ̌ͣͨͭ̋̍̃̔̋͛̚̚͡ş̺͖͈̳̤͕̍ͩ̄̆̇̉̐̒͜͢͝!̶̸̗̜̬͚̣̟̹̟̗̈́̐ͯ ̋̓̽ͯ̊̓͛̍̒ͪ̚ ̊̎́͑͛̉ͩ͊ͨ̇́͏̹̤̳̘̼̦Ḯ̠̣͈̫̠͕̌̔ͩ̌̋͒͗ͤ̀͠͝t̶̶̢̥̦̖̟̭̫̥̜͓ͪ͆̽̓͊͂͊̿ͣ̔͒̌͂̓ͨͥ̃̀͜ͅ ̢̣̲̥̼̻̟̤͚̲̉̊́ͦ͆̔͐ͤ̾͜b̧̑̌͒ͤ͐͂ͦ͌ͬ̃̔̐̌ͤ̀͏҉̜̺̭̝̲̘̲̲͡ủ̞͓̘̠̤̬̣̝̯̣̯̙̩̝ͮ̄̒̑̉̽̔ͬ̀̚͞͠ r̨̟̼̮̖̼̣̩̻̖̺̺̥͉ͤ̄̈̄̈́ͮ͗͡ͅͅn̴ͦ̊̇̾ͬ́ͪ͋̔̅ͬͣ̂ͪ͆ͭ͐҉̸͚̳̳̫̻̖̯̬͓͕͞s̵̤̰̗̖̲̤͎̪͙̺͔͕͇̤̹ ̲͉̣̄͐͊͆̽̓ͭ̊ͯͣ̈ͥ̑̉̈́!̢̡͓͚͎̪̣͉̰͔̥̝̼͍̜̭̦͉͗ͫ́͒̍̍ͤ̃ͤ̐͐̑͛ͭ̾̂̀͘̕ͅ
Tͨ̿̿ͪͪ̾̔ͥ̂̂͏̲̳͚̞̮̦̗͇ͅh̔ͧ̇̋͑͒ͧ̐̐ͪ́̚͡҉͇͔̯ḛ̵̸̷̩̻͎͈̯̱̩̱̳̳͈̹̭̱͌̒ͪ̆̓ͨͭͨͥ̈̔̐ͮ́͂͊͒ͪ ͞ͅ ̱͚̼̣̻̥̲̠͎̱̮̦̖̜̻̭̆ͭͤͩ̉͊ͪ̀ͩͮ̿̈́̀̉ͬͦ̀̚͞ͅͅṵ̵̡͎̲͓͉͎̝̠̳̬̹̱̝͗͆ͣ͐̓ͭͪ̌͒ͭ͒̉̽ͭ̀́͜n̤̺̖̜ ͈̬̟͚̞̓ͮͧͭͣ̔̋͂͑ͪ̒̌̄͑ͧͤͮͥ͢ĥ̢̻̘̟̖͚̯̣̭͙͚̦͓̞̲̣̰̪̍̑ͩͥ͂̿̎̍ͫ͒͒̓͐̋̓̔́̀́͜o̪̖̟͖ͯ̈́͒ͨ̽ͣ ͣ̿̔ͯͤͬͣ͂ͨ͆̇͠l͎̤̦̣̐̈̈́ͤ̄̃͌̐̾͌̄̾̓̊̉ͯͧ̌̎͠y̡̮͕̗̜͔̦̫̤͕͇͕̪̪̬̙̎̔̆̾ͨ́̽ͫͨ̈́̓̀ ̧̾ͫ͛̔͏̯̖͕̯̖͡l̨̪͈͚̦̺̦̳̭̥̳̣̠̃̔̌̚͘͠i̷̡̪̤̼̗̮̥͚̞͇͎͇ͦ̿̄̓̅ͥ͋̿̓͂̂͛̉́ğ̡̹̜͎͓̘͍̭͇͉͍̙̻̼ ͇͛ͫ̔̕h̶͎͚̞̜͓̻͕͇̤̦̲̱̩̻ͦ̿ͩ̃̍͂͂͑̓ͣ͒͌̍̍́̕͡t̢̡̢͔̲̘̹̠͓̥͈̬̺͎̠̫̂̅̋̐ͮ̀ͪͦ̋̆͐ͭ͛̀͜ ̷̢̳̤̖͎͉͈̩̻͔̫̥̬͎̥̠̩̜̫͗͊̃̓͂̉ͨ͐̀ͅb̧͔̞̠̳̣̝̙̤̘̭̮̜̗͛̏͌̀͋ͨ̾͂̚͠u̸̺͖̹̪̠̠̠̩̎̈́̽́̌̉̓ͨ̓ ̾̈́̾́͟r̨͉͖̱̦̟̖̯̤̟͕̒̏͋̈̿̿ͨ͗̐̽ͭ̉ͩͫͦ͒̚̕ṅ̢͎̱͈͔̞͕͇̱̼͙͙̜͉̣͕̲͛̈̓ͣͧ̓̌͗͒̂̈̓̓̏̎͝s̸ͨͩ̌ ̉ͣ̈̓̈́͐̅̊ͯ̈͐̌ͮ̈́̚͜͏̢̩̺̣̮̝͇͙̻̳̼̩͍ ̶̴̥̜͈̲̹̣̻̣̂̓ͥ͋͒̽ͤͩ̀ͩ͌ͭ͐̆̆̀̕͢ͅu̶̶͎̜̙̙̪̲ͩ̃͒̽ͥ̄̋ͦ̃̽ͨ͛̓ͤ̾͊̾͊͞ͅͅs̷̲͉̲͙͈͓̹͚̹̺̖̹̖̟ ̭̰͙̲̮͗ͩ̐͌̐ͭ́͘!̷̨͎̪̩͉͙̘͈̳̓ͪ͑̃̂̔̍ͬ̉̎͊ͭ̍ͭ̿ͪ͌
T̸̢̢̒̒͋̒͊͏̸̺̫̖̹ͅḫ̶̶̛͍̦̩̮̰̘̠͆̇͂͌̽̄ͪ͐̑̿̀̚͜ẻ̝̝̘͚͔͉̣̻̥̥̞͕̥ͭͣͭ̊͛ͧ̒ͣ̑ͮ̐̏̈́̀͠ͅ ̧ͮ͑̉ͭͯͫ͋͏̰̱̖̼̲̰̟̹̙̬̫͍̮̯̱R̢͚̝̦̦̥̟͔̘̯͛ͪ̊ͤ̓̓̊̔͂̊ͪ̊̋ͨ͋͞͠ͅe̔ͣ͋̓̈̅͛̓͐ͬ̇ͩ̈́́̉͟͟͠҉͉ ̻̯̪̭̲͇̮̞̠͇͈̻͢m̧̦͇̱̲̆ͣ̏̆ͥ̐́̾͋͆̐̾͗̌̄̃ͩͮͫ̕a̴̢̹͕̩̣͔̗͚͇̞̥̝͖͇ͯ̌̒ͣ̅ͨͯͧ͑͒͐̇̆ͦͮ͒ͤk̠̭ ̞͙̪̩̤̝̰͚ͯ̐̔͒̂̄̇ͥ̑ͬ̆͑̊́͘e̵̳͖̙̭̮̩̋̐̍̋̊͛̒͜͝͝ͅr̸̭̬̫̹̪͖͍̖͇̟̿̉̆̏ͫͫ͘ ̴̸̸͙̗̠̭̫̖̪͓̺̻̠̫̳̰̬̗̏͌̓̽͂̐̽ͮ͑ͯ͊ͦ̆͂̀́̕ͅḭ̶̖̣̭̰̟͍ͣ͒̓ͤ̆͆̈́͒͋ͫͭ͂̈͋̈̀̚͢͜͝ͅn͐͂ͤ͐͐̄̿ ̇ͫ̇̌͛̐̌͌̆͑͛̊҉̶͏̟̫̜̝͉̜̞͇̠̠͉̙͚͞ ̴̢͚̘̦͖̹̹͖̘̥͇͍͙̇̅ͥ̏̏͐͡ͅP̴̸̩̣̦̼͈̬̘̝̃̒̉ͥ̆̿̎̌̌̾ͩ̚͞͞ͅȁ̴̷̡̫̦̼̦̣͇̱͔̣̖̹̦ͭͫ̓ͣ̈ͣ̇̔̉̌ͪ ͬ̀͠i̸̢ͧ̓ͬ̃͛ͭ̋̂ͮ̚͘҉̯̳̲n̛̯̖̯̟͓͎̙͍͛̆̄ͧ̀̈́ͤͬ̾ͤ͛͆ͬ̈́̋ͥ͢ ͥ̒̅̒̍͒ͭͧ͝͏̵̴͓̳̤̙͈̳͎̮͈̹͓͕͈͕m̵̱̣̫̘͎͍̈̄̏ͪ̽̃̀̀͝ơ̬̲͚̯̖̘̯̘͂̐̇͗̌ͤ̑̂̅͑̽ͧͥp̴̎́͛̉ͯ͋͆͗ ̀͑̈̚̚҉̷̧̖̼̼̤̞̫̫̟̫̘̣̣h̝̭͍̩̪͍͔̭͉̜̼̩̠̤̖̓̇͋ͫ͆̊ͧ́͡ͅs̛̱͕̺̠ͦ̌̊͢͠ ̸̸͎̞͍̫̩͍̫͍̱̽̍ͬͤ̄̂͂ͬ͗̓ͦụ͕̬̦̠͙̫̬͙͉̱̱̺͕̊ͭ͛̓̋̽ͭ̓̂͆̕̕͞s̢͖̳͕̜̹͍̝͎̜̣͍̝̈́̇̎̉̎̑͗̊͡ͅ. ̸̝̫̖̝̻̙̝͇̮̮͖̝̦̝͔͉̆ͤ̄̾ͧ̈́ͪ̊̋ͩ̇͊ͭ́͢͡
B͍̱͕̲ͩ̎͂̓ͯͧ̌̆ͪ̋̊͊͢͡i̴̶̡̛͖̥͖̜̺̘̦̙̠͈̭̖̮͍̒̍̇͐͆͑͢n̫̰̺̤͇̐ͦ̊̏̏͑̀d̷̥̠͎̻̺̈͆̓̎͜s̨̡̢̘ ̻̙̼̱͙̗̪͚̬̥̦̔ͭͩ̄͝ ̒̄̐͊̆͑̏̄̽͋ͥ̑̀͘҉͙͓̜̤̟̲̮̜̺̝̗u̙̥̦̻͓̥ͨ͊̈ͨ̀̇͛̔̆́ͭ͒ͨͬ̀̀͟͞s̶̞̞̪̹̦̖̠͔͓͓̞̖̼̣͎̀͋ͧ̑̓͛̇ ̕.̶̵̵͕̭͚͙̗̪̥̗͉͕̺̞̈́ͧ̃̒̑ͤ̔͐̈́́́ͅ
M̄̑͒̎̊͂͋̌̅ͮͤ͘͏̮͙͉͇̪̳͕̞̙eͩ̏̀͋͛̈́ͪ͜͞҉̼̙̬͕̝̖̬͕̗̞͍͚̠̖̫̘̠́͜l̵̞͎̼̰̗̼͔̫̳̯͒͂̈́̔̏ͨ̚͢ t̶̆̓̉̈̽̓͋ͨ̐̍ͯ̓̎҉̛̭̥͈̞̱̗͓̞͈̪̹̘̙̳́s̸͔͔̤̻̮̠̫̖̞̼̬͖̞̆̅̂̐͞͝ ̷̷̦̣͇̗͙͔͓͈̪̖̮̩̜̗̟͎̺͕͇̈̂̇͗ͪͫͪ͗ͤ͌͑̊ͮ͝͠͞uͬ̊̓̉͏̛̺̲̞̺̗̭̮̪̳̖̗͢s̸̸̶͍̣̜̬̺̝ͮͬ̋̑ͯ̽͛̑̋ ̓̓ͬ.̷̧ͪ̒̋͗͊҉̨̣̭̖̱͔̭̦̮̝̫͙̘̰͎͖̣͓͖̪͞
R̷̛̺͙͉̻̬͙̲͍̲̝̞͇̲̎̉̔ͫ̏ͪͮͪ͝ͅè̛̟̩͓̭̙̣͚̦̘̱͎̔ͦ͑ͤ̈̍̇̔͗ͅf̓̉͌ͨ̍ͧ̉ͨ͊͌ͪ̐̔ͩ͂͌̚̚͡͏̵͇̲͈̗ ̱͇̙̳̭̣̬̠̻̥͈͝ǫ̶̸̺̙̥̺͖̠͕̳̰̳͚̮̼̰ͪ̄̏̄͒̔ͤ̓̾ͨ̈́ͨͩ̎ͮͤ̚͝͡r̴̛̳͖͓̠̳̯̣̞̺̤̦̖̝̫̂̏͌̅̓ͮ̊ͅͅ ͅmͪͫͨ̐̔͆ͯ̐ͦ͗̐͏̣̬͎͍͡ṣ̵̷̩̟̘̭̱̺̝̘̦̙̻͕̗̺ͥ̋̈́̃̓́̆̋̍̈͊̉̌ͩͫ̋̄ ̵̢̢̟͖̩̟̟͔̱͖̜͍̺ͯͮ̉̃̕u̵̷̧̗͈͕̙͖̙͉̪̞̣̞̱̝̥̞̖̾̒ͣ͂̆͋̑̃ͣ͆ͫͪs̷̶̄̍̀̑̇ͭ̐ͪ͗̕͏̗͚͍̹̩̜̳̥̫̹ ̹̝̭̗̞̫̮͘.͉̖̘͍̟͈͉͆̍̍ͮ̆͢͠
C̵̸̡̺͚̝̜͙̤̣͚͙̦͕͓͚̤̫͉̺̱ͤ̈́ͦ̿̀͛̂͂͝u̵̡͚̹̼̭̟̦̪̤̳̫̺̫̻̺̝̼̜̖̾ͮ̀͗̑̾͋ͨ͛̈ͦ̌͑ͥͯ̈́̊̽͋r̢ ͩ̌ͬͧ͊҉̢̥̣̺̱͓̠̜̞̘̱̜̕s̢̢̛̘͚͍ͮ͊̈́̆ͩ͌ͩ̒̈́ͭ̊̏̆͑̄ͭ́͟e̴̵̵̛̯̝̟̹͔̞͙͓̜̙̫̭͖̘̽ͭ́̾̉ͣͦ͌͊̆ ̚͟s̵̷͉̰̮̩̯̏͊͗̑͗ ̶̟̲̣͙͍̥͖ͧͨ̉̉̀́ṷ̸̲͉̭̟̳͎ͭ͒̀͌̀sͧ̃ͥ͐̊̏ͥ̏̀̈́̄ͩ̉̋̆͌҉̡̼͔̘̥͖̝̜̲͈͇̭̖̰̘͉̜͎͟ͅͅ.̶̢̙̝̠ͬ́ ͂̔̍̃̃̒͒ͮ̒ͨ̎̒͜͠
̔̓̇͂̋͊ͩͨ͒ͩͪͦ̐͊͌̒͏̷̧̧͈͖͈̮̟͕͓̞̩̙͖͚͔̝́H̡͍̖̥͈̞͚̺̲͙͍̞̙̥̣̙̽ͣ̔̅͋͂̓ͤ̽̇̈́ͪ͊͌̈́͑̏̕͟͞u ̴̝͖͔̼̲͎̯̲͔̖͔͚͕̯̟͚̖ͥ̃̌́̓ͫͭ̋ͫ̒̓̾͆̆̚͡r̿͆͒̌͑͊̂͗̈́̆̔͛͑̓̏͌̅ͦ͏͏̸̢͇̩̣̮̟̣́ť̛̋͑͗̐͆̓͌ͬ ́҉̨̼͍̮͕̰̥͎̘̫͡s̶̰͍̥͇͈ͩ̄ͪ͛̌̍͛ͬ̕͠ ̢̨͎̻͙̱́̐̔ͭͦ̈̈́͊ͧ͊̍̏ͬ͐͐̓̓̇͜ú̺̪̫̪̯̭͗͐̍́͢ͅs̵̶̥̳͎̺̞͈̜̬̙͕̉̿ͣͤ̅ͮ̃̓̃ͫ͢͞.̵̴̖̝͓̞̬̖̫̣ ̝̈́̾̊̉͑ͥͫ͜ͅ
T̯̼͇̖ͪ̈́̀ͭ̉ͤ̃ͧ̍̎͞h̨̅ͨͮ̑͂ͯ̆̊̓ͤ̈͢͟҉̨̪̺͈̼̺͍̳̝̳͎͇͙̙͈ͅȩ̸̼̲̼̹̺̺̹̗̖̦̦̞̣̤̜̙͌̽̓͂̄̉ͣ̍ ͭͪ̒ͥ̓̀͜ͅ ͦ͋̀̄͌̓̇͆̅͂ͭͪ͊́̎͢͝͏̤̭͍͖̱ͅa̵ͧ͋ͨͯ͛͆͊͢͡͏͕͖̗̭͕̤̠ͅc̷̴̋ͬ̽͋͗ͪ̔ͯ̔ͪ̋ͮ̚҉̴͚̪̟c̵̢̧̝̳̞͈͖̳ ̯͈̽͗̔̃̊̎͊͊̓̍͜ư͔̮̠̰̲͔͙̼̣̪̫̹͕͖̈́͂̉̃͐̀̑̑̂̆͑̒̂́͞͝ŗ͈͙̣͉̘̣̼̬̹̞̖͍̀̌ͦ́̌̆̓̑̽͑̿͛̂͒̕ş͉ ͕͕̝̖̮̗̜̭̰͕̦͐ͮ͊ͣ̒̈͂̽͂͡e̾̏ͮ͐ͤ́͋̌ͯͥ̓ͧ̀͑̒ͩ̆҉̧̘̘̜̙̘̠̰̪͎̠̪͙̭̭̞̞͓̗̕͡ͅd̛ͪ̈́͑̆̈̑ͭ͒͗ͪ ̓̐ͭ̽̚҉̻̪͉̝͚̲̭͇̪̳̝͙͖̗͖̰͕̙ͅ ̵ͨ̐ͨ̂̔͡҉̧͔̤̗l̸̢̻̯̫̞̰͈̥̝̦̦̼̈́̔ͣ̓͋ͥͫ̅̋̏ͪ̐́̚̕͜ĭ̑͒̂̚҉̡̨̡̘̫̹͇̱̰͕̯̰̤͙̟g̴̴̳͇̼̲͓͓͖̰ ̽ͪ̊͋̋̓ͩ͂̐͗ͪͪͬ͆͟͝͠h͈̭̪͈̙̩̓̓̈̓̈́̉̉̿̉͆̓̈́͊̅ͨ͜͜t̸̳͓̖̙͉̖͕̣̘̦̙͂̃̇͌ͣ̽ͩ̈́͊̈̿̓̊̃̀ ̧̢̛͕̮͕̺̖̪̹͙̼̼͙̖̠̘͇̒̇ͥ̃̅ͮ͂ͨ͛ͨ͌̿͊ͭ͋̈́̔̉͢͝ͅb̵̧͚̫͚̝̱͇̗͓̟̙̮̦̘̖͓̘̭̭ͪ̍ͭͩ̏ͦ̅͑͗͑̏̅͛̓ ͂ͯ́̚͝u̶͔͍̩̳̞͖̖͍̤̾ͬͭ̃̃͑ͦ̆͒̆̈̾ͣͭ̂̇͐́͞ŗ̢͎̗͖̬͈͈͎͎̲͇͈͕̥̣̺͓͙̊̄͗̂̋̉̉́̚n̴̴̸͕̲̟͓͈͈̣̯ ̰̼̣̳̰̲̫͈͚̤̝ͯ̂̊ͦ̒̂ͥͫ̓ͩ̏ͭͤͯ̑͌͗̽s̸̷̡̤̪͍͉̞͓̱̘͍͋͊ͫ͐̚ ̡̛̫̠̲̦͙̠̲͎̩̲̗̯̦̘͎ͮ͊̐͗ͪ͌ͧ̍̄ͨȕ̶̡̡̈́̍͋͑ͨ͛̾̑̌͌̎ͧ͏͍̩̟̳̗̫͎̙̲͈̱̮̤̝̥͙͕̬͞ͅs̷͈͚̮̙̮̯̰̣ ̙͕͖̻̙̹̘̿̉̊ͧ͐̀̚!̶̵̫̲̗͇̳̮͎̣̞͖̈ͩ͗̇͂ͫ̀̈̾̒̑͒̂͋̂͆̎̎̚ͅ
̴ͯͬ̚҉̷̥̫͚̮͍̤̱̯̘̗̯̹͓̫ͅS̛̯̮̰̩̘̱̬̗̲̩͑̓̾͌̏ͤ̀͒̚͘͟a͌̋̇̔͌̄͊ͦ̇̑ͬͯ͒̽ͩ̄͏̱͍̩̦̻̣̱̪̺͕͎̱͢ ͞͞v̶̢̺͎̱̼̋͐̽̿ͪͬ͋̎̑̊͑͒ͩͦ͐̚͡͝eͬ͒͊̃̎͋̐͗͏̵̜̞̞̩̙̩̜̬͔͙̖̜̹͙̰̗̯̬͢ ̶̷̨̯͇͍͉̙̼͈̻̙̣̫̤͈̰̭͎̩̐̐̋͌̋͊͗ͦ͗ͫͦ̽̉ͩ̉̚̕͜ų̮̯̰͓̪͖͈͈͙̼̝̺̅̓̿̎ͭͦ̏̒ͧ̈̚s̵̵̡͓̦̮̠̺̭͉͈͕ ̞̮̭̭͕̰̞̱̆ͦ̓ͯ͆ͫ̈́ͧ̌͊̆͋ͭ̏ͣ̽͂́̕ͅ.̟͓͍ͤ͆̈̔̀͂̓ͫ͗ͮͣ̐ͯ̿͒̓̅̚͘͝͡͠
The southern wall contains a removable set of tiles in a 3-by-3 matrix . There is nothing behind the tiles and there is nothing differentiating the tiles from one another. There is, however, a tenth tile similar to the other nine on the western wall, but with a small chamber—big enough to fit your arm into—behind it.
Within the small chamber resides a cloak, a headband, and a bracelet, as well as a metal switch on the back wall of the small chamber.
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Nox gasps out in pain and hurries along through the door, resisting the urge to slam it behind him. He tries his best to keep his cool demeaner, but Hendric can hear some slight hitch to his voice.
Black sludge... is giving off some kinda... voices... psychic static of the worst kind... be extra careful when you deal with it.
He takes a deep breath, once, then twice, then continues his report.
Found some equipment here... may be magical... and some sort of lock or puzzle. I'll check the room for traps, but I'm willing to bet something will happen with these tiles that seem to be part of the puzzle. Might be best if the rest of you join me and take a look.
Nox spends the time waiting for the others to arrive and investigate the spaces he's left behind to begin inspecting the tiles and the room for more information.
S̵̗̹̟̝̤̬̫͙͇̟̹̩̜̱͍̝̘̋̓̾͋͝ͅa̹̤̫͎̖͔͉͖͇͇̞̗̽ͥͥ̇̓̈́̋ͫͮ̕͞v̼̙̩̻̲̦̳͉̙ͪ͋ͩ̓͌͗̿̆͌ͥ̄͐̽ͯ̋ ́̓̓ͣ͟e̵̶̯̞̯̜̫͈̞̭̝͈͌̓ͨ̊̄̌ͧͨͪ̚̚̚̕͠ ̢̫̩̜̥̱̳͍̱̿͆ͧͫ͋ͩ͑̌͛ͯ̂̒͋̄ͯ̉ͮ͘͡͡u̶̵͎̻͙̱̝̯̱͍̻̞̲̬̰̾̽̎̉̉̃ͨͤͬͩ̈́͝͝ͅs̨̛̤̜̩̜̜͓͕̝͈̤ͬͣ ̌ͫ̋ͥ͋̽͟!̶̄̓̇͗ͤ̒́ͮͣͭ̈́̐̌͌̌̾̂̄̋͝͏̨̮͖̦̫̼̳̞͉͍͖ ̶̷͊̾ͩ̄ͫͧͥ̃̈́ͤͪ͌ͦ͐͗̚҉̝̰̻͖͖̘̠͔̳̺̠̗Ȋ̶̘̞̭̥͚̗̙̯̪̲ͨ͗͛̾̐̏̓̒͆͆̉ͬͮ́͘͜͜t̵̸̢̩̣̹̬̜̫̲̳͓̗ ̰̗͉͍̙̯̟̫̽ͬ̋̿̅̔̒̀̌͗͆ͦ͞ ̵̧̩̣̯͍͚͇̖͓ͣ̿͛͑͒͗̒̾̋̋͛̅b̴̧̺̦̖͕͇͇̳̃͑̐ͣ͋̄͑ͣ̉̽̔ͤͨͫ͝͠u̖͕̤͙̳͈̳̳̒̿ͧ͂̿̔̄͐ͯ͑͂̍̑ͣ̅̀̿̈ ̕͟r̷̳̲̹̝̭͖͉͓͈̝̙̪̖̘͊̾ͤ̏̋̏̾ͥ͢ṉ̛̲̻̞̠̲̞̮̱͇̂̉̅̿̿̓ͩ̽̈́̔ͬ́̊ͪ̽̆ͬ̀͢͝ṣ̷̵̢̢̖̺͎̭͓͔̮̪̹̊̿ ̑́ͥ̓͋͒͠ͅ!̶̪̼̳̫ͨ͒́̾ͥ̽̐ͩ̋̌͞
T̷̡͇̹̦̱͎̬̩̪̰̥̮̫̾̈ͬ͛ͪ̽h͂̊̏̽́̌̃ͧ̉̑̚͏̶̧̹͈̲͚͡ͅę̺̹̣̖̺̮̜̘̯̖̩͍̙̞̩̘̩̱̙͑͗̾̒ ̵̰͖̮̲̱̬͚͇͈̱͖ͨ̉͋͘͞͡ų̶͖̰̙̪̗̘̪͈̙͉͖̳͉̣̲̬͚̯͎̍ͫ͑͑̈́ͤͭͤ̾͟ṇ̷̡͍̼͕̹̙̝̬̰̳͓̙͙̣̮͙̲̳̏̿͂̇̓ ̇͌̌ͥ̋̏͊̔̋̈̚͟ͅhͧͮͮͬ̔̒͗ͧ̂̾͏͕̬̯̲̙͝͠ȏ̴̵̶̟̖͍̬̬̮͇̪͚̜̫̞̠̿ͬ̊͐͠ḽ̡̹͓͔̰̘̥̪̞͉̗̞̱̫̝͉̘͗ͮ̃ ̅ͬ̄͆ͬͭ͋͒͒̈̃́̚y̺̣̹͕̼̯̲̘̪̩̙͔̱̪̦͐̎̀̀ͤͬ̍ͯ̏̔̐̇ͧͭ̂ͪ̇͡ ͥ̈́ͬ̀͛́̒ͥͪ̾̑͏̵̴̢̱̰̺̜̺̳l̐̿͗̚҉̵̷̲̳̜͇̟̜͓̀ĩ̶̵͚̟̜̂ͤ̌̾̉͛͌͆̋͑ͫ̋͌́ͅg̢̳̘̜̩̬̭͕̖͍͉͔̘͉̃ ̂̅ͫ͌̒́͛ͦ̒̍̇̄̓ͨ̋́͞͡ͅh̴̪̻̯̯͔̭̥̬͈ͨ̓̄̎ͮ̀̕͟͞t̷̸ͨ͆̋͌͑̀̽̎͒̍́̚҉̙̳͎̤̞̹͉̱̹̩͚̬̩̪ ̨̨̳̳̞̼͊̔̽ͮ́̀͗ͬͦ̚b̴̧̦͈̰̟̜͇̗̺̖̣̖̮̱̼̪̦̣ͥͬ̉̐̀̐͛́̽̓ͨ̅ͧ̋ͥ̓̃ͮͦ́͡ũ̢͕͉͉̖͍̜̯͓͔̮̫̩̠̫̬̦ ͊ͣͫ̎̂͋͗́̃̎͒̒͘r͑͒͐͌ͨ̑͑ͬ̓̃̚҉̧̢̗̲̪̖̺̣͙̪͇͉̫͜ͅͅͅn̛̯͕̲͈͓̼͓̲̙̦̥̝̖̮̺̳ͭͦ̌ͫ͛͆ͥ̎ͧͫ͑̽̉̀ ͅş̵̫̦̝͔͉̠̓̾́̓ͣ͊͋ͩͧ̒ͭ̉̚ ̸͔̟̞͓̰̖͔͖̰̭̯͙͖̜̜̈́ͩ͛̔̈ͯ͝u͙̰͉͙͔ͫ̊ͫͫ̓̀͡ş̧̖̪̻̺̜̱̣̤͕̟̺̾͑͌ͤ̈ͬ!̡̫͖̭͇̭̱̱̜̻͍̩͍͔̱̬̤ͭ ͌̽̿̇̏̄̔͂ͫͫ̃̊̐̀͒͞͝
T͂͒̅ͮ͂̂͌̊̽ͨͬ̽̀̋͌̆̉̃͊҉̴̷̰̹̹̩͡͡h͚͕̟̦̬̰̲̯̟͕ͭ̌͊̎̇͗͆͂̅͋̏ͤͣ̈́̍ͨ͢͟ͅẹ̷͔̤̠̦̪̹̖̼̹̊̏ͫͮ ͛ͮͮ̈̅͊ͯ͊͌́ͅ ̡̢͈̞͉̝̤̒ͮ̄ͥ̾̽̈̕Ŗ̤̥̭̫͎͙͚̮͎̙̖͍̱͖̲̫ͤ̊͛͆̈̔͆͑ͧ̈́̋̐̓̿̕͡ḛ̶̙͖̥̮̫͈͙̠͇̜̩̥̘̦̓̅̌̈̓͜ͅm̨̨ ̗͙̪͕̻͚͉̖̰̻͉̟͚̘͚͋ͣͧ̑̃̽̅̄̀͝a̡͆͒̌̑͌̈̈́ͬͪ͑͒ͪ̄̐ͤ̅̎͒͞͏̖̗̘̭̗̹̪͟͡k̴͙̣͇̝͈̱͎̮͓͙̜̩̘̦͚̯ ̹̘͗ͣ͒ͩͦ̍ͬ̾́ͮ͝ͅȩ̗͓̯͎͈͍̫̳̝̰̗̬͌ͣ͊r̴̛͔̥̗̙̬͍̺̖͓̰̲̪̪͓̖̰͕ͩͥͧͤͫ̑ͫͯͪ́̄ͭ̀̚ ̢̻͓͕̖͚͔͖̘̱̎̽́͋̍̽ͥ͋̍̇̍̑́́̚͢ȍ̴̷̺̮̣͉̜͔̼̤̹̯͙͎͕̣͚̪͙̼͂ͭ̉ͨ̄͑̋̎͛ͭ͢͠͠ḟ̷͗̉ͫ̀̊ͪͨ̾͏̮͔͚̹ ͈͕̺̬̼ͅ ͪ̊̈̌̀͌ͯ̊͑͊̅̑҉̛̰̪͈̥̮̙͖̘̗̯͙̣̻̼P̧̎͋ͩ̎ͤ̽ͨ͂ͮͩ̏ͤ́͏̨҉̘͓̲͎͍͙͓̩a̱̥̱͆ͭ̐̐ͩͫ̇͐̊̓͂̕͝i̷̶̧ ̯͚̰͓̯̭̭͙̮̥͚̗̹̩̘̿̾̓̅̎̍͒ͭͯ̇̒̅ͧ͐ͪ̅ͦ͢͝ͅͅn̴̙̹̥͔͈͓̟͛̓ͪ͂̐̍ͤ̒͆̔͛̕͜͡͝ ͮͥ̐͐ͤ̍҉̵̘̳̥̗͇̱̹̝͍̮̫̱̟͜ḿ̵͇̦̗̜ͯ̽͋̃ͫ̆̀̚͘ͅo̢̪͍͚͉͇ͣ̄̒̒ͯ̇ͧ̅́̋́ͬ͢͜ȑͧͩ̊̔̅ͤ̏̆ͩ̎ͮ́҉͚̣ ̮̻̻͠͠p̸̵̶̛͙̱̭̣͖ͫͬ͂͝ͅḧ̨͙̮̭̦͖̲̣̤̍ͨ͊ͥ͛͛̃̏ͬ̏͆̈ͣ̀̀̚͞š̥͍̳̭̂͐̆̿́̊̓̿͆͌͌̅̓ͯ͊̀͛̊̀ ̴̱͉̪̟͉̤̫̥̹̮̥̗̲̰̘̰͓̇͛͊͗̐͂͑͊͆̾͌ư̶̡̧̝̥̞͕̩͍̭̥̣̦̠̟̟̜͖͖͖͇̏̏͗̔ͬ́̄̃̋ͪ͒ͩ̀s̡͍̖͎̙̞͙̳͔̜ ̙̥̠̯͎̘̺̍̂ͨ͠ͅ.̛̦̗̣̖̰͓͇͙̣̣͓̇ͧ̃̏̆ͩ̏ͭ͂̎ͩ͛́̅ͦ͐̀̚
B̔͌̈́̍̈ͫ̒̕͞͞͏͔̥̳̬̣̺̥̰͈̹̱̱̬̞͕i̸̡̯̟̰̼̖̭̞̔̃ͫ͑n̷̷̛̙͚̳͎̗̗̼̑̎̽̋̈͌ͨ̋ͭ̒͊́͜ͅd̷̶̢̮̮̙̳ ̟͚̥̗͚̫͇̞͓̤̤̬̯̎ͭ̃̒͗ͪ͟ͅs̤̹̼̦͓̣̘̙̐̀̌̒̂ͪ̄ͨͪ̕͟͠ ̸̶̦̺͙̻͇͙͔͇̹̟̝͈̹͉̞͚̥̆ͬ͒͐ͤ̊ͫ̉ͧ̓̃͐͊ͫ͋̀̚̕u̸̡̻̜̪͎̤̻̟ͬͯͮ̈͒̾̕͘͜ͅs̪̜̺̲̮̞̰͍̩̙̪̯̰̆ͭ͊͊ ̅ͤ́͗͊̓̎̊͂͌͜ͅͅ.̡̼̣̩̙̫̦̭̲̊̒ͦ́ͭ͌͐͋͗̈̆̌̈́̈̾̐ͨ̒̓̀
M̢̡̟̦̼͔͎̦͉͍͓͕̩̳̗ͭ̓͌ͤ̿́ͯ̔͗͌ͭ̉̽̊̍̋ẹ̵̢̛͚̻̖̲͍̥̜̱͈͎̼̈́̎͛ͪ͆͜l̷̳̭̹͍̫͔̮̣̖̪͈͉͓͔͉̩͍͍͙ ͩ͐ͦ͗ͫ͛ͥͥ̂̉͋̾̎ͮ̍͆͊ͮ̕t̴̵̫̪̞͙̥̺̔ͧ̾̿͗̈́̈͑̆͘ś̓̽̎͛ͬ̋̒͆̀̊̿͒̄̓ͬ҉̷̵̜̹̗̯̠̰̗͇̙͍͖̺̞̩̟͢ ̡̧͍̳̟̥̩́ͦ̈́͗̉̌̄̎͊́ủͦ̅ͥ̍ͯ̕͜͠҉̤͚̣̱̙̫ͅs̛̊ͪ̋̌ͣ̏̇ͦ̃͆̽ͩ̿͂̄͗̐ͨ̌҉̷͈͓̪̗͓̹̦̪͙̞̭̱̹̼͢.̋ ͗ͪ́̐̿͗̒ͤͧ̇ͧ̍̋͆̊̾ͫ͂҉̸̨̭͇̠̜̠̰̣͖̜̮̱̺͘͠ͅͅ
R̝͉͎̖͋ͤ̈̈̅̊̉͆͒̐̍ͨ̓ͪ͂ͯ̚͟͜͟͡e̷̹̖̜̮̱̳͎̪͓̤̙̟͍̤̙̍̇ͭ̽̎̆ͩͪ̿̋̇̿̈͆ͨͣ̃̊͘ͅf̧̅̐̏͒ͥͣ̾ͮͩ͌ ̀҉̢͍͉̪̜͎͚͝ǫ̪̬͔͔̯̼̪̖̪ͤ̊́͑ͤͦ̉̆ͫ̀̒ͨ̓ͩ̽͡͝ṟ̨̡̲͖͓̰̗̞̘̗̦ͩ͛͆̒̕͘͠ͅm̷ͭ̆̌̂̿ͥ̎͌̾ͮ̎ͮͭ̀̇͏ ̱̜̮̤̹̩͕̳̩̬ͅşͩ͒̑͐͐ͫ͑̿͒̕͏̟̬̺̬͓̭͎̝̯̕ ̦̹͉̬͓̙̦̩̳̜̬̿̈͑̉̄ͦ̒ͯ̿͒ͧͬͧ̌̆͗̒̑̊̕͢͡ͅu̵̴̸̡͇̝̺̫͇̻̹̣͖̝̺̦̙̫̫͈ͩͥͣ̆ͧs̀ͨͨ͆̓͏̵̢̛̭̗̥̤̫ ͕͕͙͜.̉̓̐ͦͭ̓͌̌͂ͤ̈́ͪͦ̈ͨ̃̓̓́͡͏̷̞͖̬̜̩͉͈̳̗̮̘̖̥̤̞͠
C̸ͥ̐̊͐̏̋̀̊ͤͮ͒̅̈͛͆̔͗͛̚҉̫͕̥̪̳͈̠͖̪̠͉̠͓̭̯͖ͅü̵͙͙̬̺̯͚̪̜̪̗̣͈̩͆͂̓̇̈́̅̀r̛̰̺̺̝̥͉͔̥͇̪͙ ͖͎̖̲͈̠͇͊̒̇͊̎̑ͬ̈́̈̑ͧ̏͆e̔̈́̄͛̈́͑̈͟͟҉͓̰̯̬̫̦͈̮͈̬̹̫̙̝̙s̢͋ͩͧ̽́̈̚͏̗̳̫̥̳͙̹̖͉͓ ̸̩̰̯͙͕̼͇̖̰͕͈̦͛͆ͣ́͂͛̒̒͂ͧ͆̋͂ͪͧ͘͘u͔̤̦̫̲͇̘͙̠̤̩̎ͩ̄̂̔̎͛̂͟͟š̨̨̰̩̮̙̜̝̳̖͇̓͑ͦ͛͐́̃̂ͯ̾͋ ͌̒͘.̵̶̲̙̳̣͎͎͍̝̝̟̮͒ͬ̄̈̀ͭͫ̓͗ͯ̿̔̀ͣ͡
Ḫ̴̴̤̭̗̙̼̟̫̆̓ͮͧ̈̒̏̽͐ͩ̌̀ͫͦ́̀ǘ̶̓̿̃ͫ͛ͫ͋͗͊̄͊̿͋ͯͣ͆͆̑̕͝҉̵̝̦̞͍̩̩̰̪̯̭ȑ̵̦͉̼͍̫̗̜̻͕̟̬̦̮ ̜ͭ̐ͩ̉̇ͦ̃̃̄͆ͨͭͮ͌ț̶̷̨̥̪̠͔̬͉̯̹̫͇̞̙̈̿̈́̿̅̽̍̅̔̽ͤ͋̎̾͋͟͞s͒ͣ͐̓̓̏̃ͬ̾͌̏́͝͏̸̳̟̗̪̲ ̢ͪ̉ͬ͗ͯ̽ͨ̔ͨ͛̈́̈̋͊͗̏҉͎̜̬͇̪̠̰͖͍̼͝ù̴̷̦̱̲̺̜̲̩̠̺͒̆͐̽̄̈͑̀s̵̡̛͖͓̟̖̣̀ͬ͑ͤͤ͂̅̃ͥ͂͂͑̓ͯ̍͝ .̽͐ͫ́̒̈̔ͦ̏̔ͭͣ͑ͫ̉ͫ̐̚҉̺̹̟͚̬̫͈̟̹͍
T̸ͣͧ̈̅ͯͦ̎̏ͮ̈́ͬ͛̋̀ͨ͂͋͝҉̷̴̜̝̦̰ḩ͇̦̙̠̯̫̟̟ͤ̊̆ͬͮ͂̑͌̆̈́̂̀͢e̼̹͓͖̗͂̏̎̀ͦ̊ͣ̽ͪ͠ ̢̧̡̭̮̙̪̯͎͓͆͌͒̑ͩ̊ͯ͘ͅa̴̡̳̜̙̠̠͖̥̙̣̻̜̗͂ͣ̊̌ͦ̍ͨ́̕͡ć̘̫͍̩̟̺̗͔̼͔̰͎̩̩ͯ͑͋͂͆͊͋̑̓̾͐̃̃ͬ͐̌ ̍́͜͞͡͞ͅͅc̨̘̟̤͕̭̯̘̰͋ͩͫ͊̕̕u͗͒̇͋͆̋͆͏̦͇̰r̸̨̟̠͓̣̪͇̹̮͎̻̤ͭ̈́̿̓̉ͤ͋͠ṡ̷̱̱̯̭ͩ͆̈́̈́̂͒̄̎ ̓ͧ̕͜͝e̶̸̮̗̝̘̠̫̘̻̫̿ͬ̐̔͒ͤd̢͋̌ͯͤͪ̋ͩͭ͋̒̓̒͒̇̐̋̊̀̀́҉͈̠̥͈̮̹͓͉̻̫̫̺̮̝͎͎͟ ̷̬̯̯͖̞̪̮̝͙̖̻̮̮̻̱͔̮̍̆̑̏̋̇͂̍ͫ͆̅͒̑̓ͭͩͨ̀͘͜͝ļ̶̛̭̘͉̰̺̱̭̦̦͚͈̞̘͕̇̏͋̾̌͑́͘ͅį̷̮̥̘ͫ̈͛̒̈ ́̈́͂́͢͞gͬ̿ͬ̋ͩ҉̫̩̼̳͞͠h̡̬͈̜̼͚̙̒̌͌̒̌̿ͮ̀̕̕͝tͫͯ͗͂̊̊̒̅̍͐ͦͨͩ̚̚͠͡҉͕͍̜͎̼́ ̶̢̨̛̳̲̯͎̜͔̮̽ͩ̋ͯͧ̋͆̐͆ͤͣ̒͆̈b̢̦̲̰͇̙͚͔̦͓̖̺͓̤̭̼͔͖ͥͪͭ͆͒̚ũ̷̧̢͍̻̮̣̲̫̲̯̙̠͑͛ͦ͐̈͒ͯ̅ͥ͂͛ ̒ͬ̓ͨ͋̋͡͝ͅr̸̤͕̫͇̬͚̳̺̱ͧ̿͐ͭ̓ͧ̾͜ṉ̵̸̥͍̤̻̠̣̠̣̠̗̣̠̱̪̰̼̱͂̄̀͐̄̋̃ͮ͌ͫ́̄̋ͧ́̚s͎̳̤̞̲̈́̄͌̅ ͐̀͘ ̨̣͍͖̤͎̥͍̖̝̟̫̼͙̘̱̑ͧͨ̍̾̅̂ͥ̑ͩ̽́͆̈́͐̍́̕u̸̠̬͎͎͍̲̮͙̣̭͕͖̺̰͕͙̱̐ͧ̒ͭ̀̀s̪͎͈͉͔͓̫͂ͩ̀͗ͣ͋̀ ̀̕!̦͖͍̳̥̥̣̭̗͈̬̭̈́̑ͤ̈̑͌̂̑̄͆͊͒ͨ̚͘͠
S̸̛͓̫͖̖̗̰ͫ̇̎̿͊̂ͭ͊̾͜a̸̶̴͈̪̞̥̪͕̝̭̻̬͔̲͖̼̱̪̜ͪ̇̃ͣͨ̎̉̉ͮ̚͟͝v̴̧̮̪̜̱̲̮̩͇̙̱͉͔͂̔͆͑͆͋̆̉ ̐͗̿̅ͅẻ̮͍͉̦̤͙̯̠̤̱̥̗̞̽ͧ̌̽̽̏̆ͮ̍̾ͥ̌̀͟͟͝͝ ̑ͣ̒̀̒ͨ҉̧̧̦̻̼̦̜͔͎̜̱ų͛ͬ̀͐́ͪ͋̏ͥͪ̀̓̓ͬ͢҉̣͉̺͓̣̖̥̙̻͎͔͎̘͍̰̭̤͢ͅs͒ͮ͐̔̏̓͌̓̄ͩ҉͎̫̲͍̞͔̼̫̞ ͕̖̘̞̹̗̹̣̤́͞!̶̧͍̞̠̘̻̲͙̲̦̋ͤ͌ͦ̃̎
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"No sign of a rampaging monster - maybe that is in the room south of where we came in? As to those tiles, they all look identical to me. What kind of a puzzle would that be?"
He takes a close look at the tiles to see if there are any subtle differences.
If he doesn't find anything, he'll suggest that the party try the other route.
As Nox opens the door to the Organics Lab, he is overwhelmed by the aroma of bleach filling his senses as he comes face-to-face with a curtain of a putrid green-yellow gas
PATHFINDERS GO! THE BOLD MAY ACT:
Round 1
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Tortuga
Géatan
Nox
!!!
Kaldane
???
Hendric
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Nox resists the urge to cough, pulling up the collar of his cloak to cover his mouth.
Feeling no immediate danger, he begins to work his way in.
Kaldane, I don't suppose you could blow some air in here to clear this place out? Makes it pretty difficult to see....
He steps in, looking about and spotting... SOMETHING. He gulps, wondering if he recognizes it...
Ipe! Got bogie! Left side of door upon entry! Putting distance! It doesn't seem to have spotted me yet...
With that, he ducks under a table nearby, thanking his short stature and hoping the thing, whatever it is, can't tell he's there.
Xon, reach through the wall in 5 feet to the left of the door... it may be tasty!
Identification for the thing that Nox found:
Above the klaxons, the sound of some indescribable being echoes within the facility—A scream? A roar? A laugh? You cannot tell, but whatever it is it’s a sound you’ve never before heard and hope to never hear ever again.
In the blink of an eye, a creature of pure nightmarish horrors appears in the room just before the Organics Lab. It walks on ten spidery legs and a cluster of beady red eyes cover a head topped with writhing tendrils. The creature is drenched in a foul dark ooze that seems to drip from every cavity. Three long tails ending in stingers flail wildly—almost hypnotically—behind it. The more you look at the creature, the harder it is to truly see it.
An oscillating aura of seizure-inducing colors surround the creature right above its skin.
Identification for this creature:
Qlippoth have evolved to become immune to the low temperatures and maddening geography of the deep Abyss and are immune to cold, poison, and mind-affecting effects. They also have resistance against electricity, acid, and fire. Additionally, the appearance of all qlippoth are disturbing to the sane, and all qlippoth can purposefully present itself in such a way that all within 30’ that see it must make a Will save or be affected. The actual effects of the qlippoth’s appearance depends on the qlippoth, but is always a mind-affecting, gaze effect.
A Thulgant can cast Dimension Door, Greater Dispel Magic, and Telekinesis at will.
A Thulgant can cast Quickened Dimension Door, Flesh to Stone, and Word of Chaos thrice per day each.
Finally, a Thulgant can cast Binding, Plane Shift, Telekinetic Sphere, and Temporal Stasis once per day each.
Géatan, upon seeing this creature appear, comes out of delay and begins raining hell on the creature
The creature next to Nox and Tortuga looks right at Tortuga and begins speaking wildly. It is at this point that Tortuga and Nox notice that the creature is actually chained to the wall.
PATHFINDERS GO! THE BOLD MAY ACT:
Round 1/2
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Tortuga
Nox
Eldritch Horror
Géatan
Kaldane
???
Hendric
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