Charles and Gärwin both push the statues back, giving Kahtia the opening she's been looking for.
Meanwhile, Tesswyn still struggles with the third.
Fortunately, Tesswyn's foresight allows her to remain elusive to the statue's painful strikes.
Drot moves to aid Tesswyn, and strikes at the statue still attacking her.
The statue shatters and crumbles into dust and chunks of stone.
Kahtia unleashes her spell, devastating two of the statues. The damage isn't as good as she would have wished, as most of the explosive power flows around the statues instead of through them.
Despite that, one of the statues looks like it is about to crumble.
The two statues advance to attack Drot and Charles. Their heavy stone fists slam down on the two. Gärwin steps next to Drot to help defend him.
Battlefield Layout:
Drot, Gärwin, and Tesswyn are next to each other, with one statue attacking Drot.
A few yards away, Charles is on his own with a nearly destroyed statue attacking him.
Statue Status:
S1: destroyed
S2: -23 (on Charles)
S3: -5 (on Drot)
Tesswyn smashes the statue near her with her staff!
Her follow up attack misses by that much!
Gärwin knew his sword would most likely chip or break rather than slicing through the living statue. He left the weapon in its sheath and smashed into the creature with the blunted edge of his shield. Small chips scattered from the impact as the dwarf landed a solid blow!
Moving in closer, Kahtia motions at the single remaining statue and attempts to immobilize it so that Charles and Drot can destroy it. "Iteana!*" she cries, her voice filling the chamber.
As the golem's stone fists pummel Drot, he raises his arms to defend himself. The stone proves to be too much for his thick hide and the flames in his eyes surge forth!
"MITTLERER SCHLAG!"
The Berserker shouts, his arms glow with bright red as the spell guides his attack.
Gärwin and Tesswyn team up to take down the statue on them.
The berserker within Drot claws its way of of the Orc's soul and charges the final statue, destroying it. He continues to smash the motionless piece of rock for another solid minute before he calms down.
Meanwhile, Lemuel backs off the altar, getting as far away from the enraged orc as he can.
W-who? Who are you? You're not going to kill me, are you?! he stumbles in fear.
Tesswyn sighs and rolls her eyes. "We're here to rescue you, d~&#~+#. The sheikh sent us. Ow," she adds, rubbing at her chest where the statue punched her.
"True, we are here to help. We certainly didn't foresee you falling to this kind of trouble however. Not until we read your journal outside."
As he spoke, Charles pulled a vial from his bag and drank it, healing some of his wounds. Then he drank a second one.
"Are you alright?"
Kahtia hadn't needed her last spell after all, and she watches Drot's rage with interest as he pounds large rubble to smaller, less threatening rubble. She lets Charles and Tesswyn handle the survivor as she silently walks towards where her fellow wizard had breathed his last, before exploding and collapsing into a loathsome puddle of bile and bone and excrement. She frowns as she nears his ruinous corpse, then casts a simple enchantment, searching the area for magic. She kneels and gathers items of interest as the orc regains his senses, and she addresses him from some distance away, busy at her task.
"You are yourself again, Drot'ook?"
Here to rescue me? Oh, thank the gods!
Lemual gets up and walks over to a wall, leaning against it and rubbing his face with his hands.
That man was a lunatic! He seemed so normal back at Oasis.[b] He lets out a long breath, as if releasing all the tension in his mind.[b] I could really use a drink. Does anyone have some water?
Tesswyn offers the man her waterskin. "Drink up. You can tell us all about the wizard and his weird sex rituals on the journey back." She looks at the others. "We're done here, right?"
The dwarf nods in agreement. "I think it's time we left, 'fore old King Arkansas wakes up."
Gärwin looks around the room trying to make out any hidden enemies.
Lemuel grabs the water skin and takes a generous drink. Then he pours the remainder on the top of his head, rubbing his hands over his face washing off the dirt and blood.
Ah! I needed that!
Upon hearing people say they want to leave, his face changes in exacerbated concern. No! We can't leave! I can't leave when we're so close! Who knows how long the tomb will remain uncovered in the sands! It's the perfect opportunity to find the scepter and death mask!
"That sounds like a monumentally dumb idea," Tesswyn mutters.
Charles listened to the back and forth discussion for a bit while taking in the scenery. After a minute he let out a groan of displeasure as he realized he was about to argue against leaving immediately. "Listen, I don't know much about dark magic or anything but it seemed like we didn't exactly stop whatever he was doing when we killed him.
Treasure aside, I don't think we can just leave this place without seeing if we're unleashing yet more horrors into the wastes without challenge."
The Berserker begins to slow the pace of his swings until they completely cease. He stands motionless, breathing hard and staring at the piles of dust and debris. Standing back to his full height he turns toward the voice that addressed him and clears his throat, slightly embarrassed.
"Ahem... Yes, quite, thank you."
He joins the others but decides he was fine with either choice and begins to inspect the alter for anything relevant to the ritual or what they could expect to dealing with, possibly soon.
Umm.. yes! Exactly! Lemuel says, latching on to Charles' words. We need to ensure the place is safe after that maniac tried to awake the entire tomb!
Kahtia rises from where she's been inspecting and picking through Buckling's disgusting remains.
She touches Drot gently on a muscular forearm and keeps her voice low. "We must talk later. There are things I can teach you."
The woman then joins the conversation about whether the group should continue exploring or not.
"What are your intentions here?" she asks Lemuel. "What is the importance of this scepter, and death mask?"
Kahtia's eyes glow blue as she casts her spell while taking a look around the room.
A few items seem to glow from further down the stairwell.
Meanwhile, she also grabs the Book of Night and several other items from the gooey remains of a man she once thought of as a friend.
Drot inspects the altar, and then the carvings on the walls.
Anak’hainunem’s accomplishments are depicted—battles against multitudes of intruders, wonders performed in lush, verdant fields, massive structures being built—striking evidence that he was a terrible tyrant, praised highly and worshiped by his peoples.
Near the end of the corridor, Anak’hainunem is shown in a death mask, carrying a long rod of might (a Was), flying high above wielding his great and noble powers against his many foes.
Upon closer inspection, the illustrations also depict horrors of maiming and mauling the conquered by dismemberment, boiling, evisceration, limb removal and castration.
For anyone else peeking in this spoiler, you can make one too, as looking in this spoiler will serve as a representative of your character being unable to resist looking at the carvings on the way. :)
Waiting for an answer from the man they saved, Yarza walks to the top of the stairs and peers down them to see what was glowing, avoiding the now picked-through remains of her friend. It had been a horrible task, and while the Book of Night was back in the woman's possession, she would long see Buckling's distorted, ravaged face in her nightmares.
Tesswyn gags a bit as she watches Kahtia dig through the puddle of gore, but maintains her wits. Her only reaction to the carvings is a shudder of disgust.
While the others search this room, she scouts further down the stairwell.
"A horrible ruler this man was. With all of the death and suffering that was brought by his hand, I wouldn't be surprised if there was powerful corruption within these relics. We could do wi-"
In the split second that Kahtia touched Drot's arm; he tensed up, the rage fires flared in his eyes, and he whirled around to grab at her throat. His mind was quick enough enough to gain control before he reached her and the fires dissipated as quickly as they had come.
"I... My apologies..."
He said meekly, jerking his hand away from the woman and taking a step back.
"That's... I'm... Just... Don't like to be touched, suddenly..."
He regains his natural look of concentration and continues.
"I would be honored to learn from a Wizard of the Tower Arcane."
1) A golden coin which, when you get a failure on a challenge roll required by a spell, you can use a triggered action to turn the failure into a success. The object has one use.
2) A curved dagger with hellish inscriptions on it. You can use an action to make an Intellect or Will attack roll against the Will of one creature that can see you within short range. You can choose to gain 1–3 Corruption to make the roll with that many boons. On a success, the target becomes charmed for 1 minute. If you get a success with an attack roll of 20 or higher and beat the target number by at least 5, the target becomes compelled instead.
3) Robes, midnight midnight: The wearer has one boon on checks to resist insanity.
"What are your intentions here?" she asks Lemuel. "What is the importance of this scepter, and death mask?"
They're of great archeological importance! Such history belongs in a museum, not buried in the Desolation sands.
Kahtia's eyebrows raise, but she does not recoil from Drot'ook when he turns and only barely keeps from grabbing her by her slender throat. Her eyes are dark and full of promise as he returns to his examination of the carvings, and she nods and says, merely, "Good. Come to my tent tonight."
----------------
The magess is examining Buckling's robes carefully as Lemuel answers, and as Tess descends the stairs. "Be wary, Tess," Kahtia calls out to the other woman as she begins removing her turquoise colored garb, baring first her shoulders in the dim torchlight. "I sensed items on the stairs infused with magic, but I don't yet know what kind. Drot may well be right about the malevolent nature of any relic we come across."
To the rescued explorer, she presses, "Anything we find here will be dangerous to look upon let alone remove." Glancing to her fellows, to Drot, and Charles and Gar, she loosens the rest of her robes and lets them full to green-blue puddle at her feet. Holding up the dark, flowing robes Buckling had been wearing, she notes with some distaste that they are stained... but decides that is small price to pay for the protection they afford as she begins to pull them on.
"I came here to stop my friend, and to reclaim the terrible book he stole from me. We have done that. But as you all helped me, I will now you. If you wish to delve deeper, I will follow. Do we at least have time to recuperate from our trials thus far, or do you mean to press on straight away?"
Tess glances over her shoulder to see Kahtia starting to strip. Her cheeks burn crimson and she shoots Charles a venomous glare before disappearing down the stairs.
Charles sees as Khatia heads over to the gore and begins picking through it. He manages to hold his mind together against the awful sight.
"Be wary Khatia, the power of the new God can shield us from some of the horrors of this place, but delving headlong into them is dangerous."
Once she had collected her things from the remains of the corpse, he couldn't help but notice all of the sketches of the wall or the way Drot'ook focused in particular on a section. The sights sickened him.
He couldn't hide or shield his sight from the images in any good way though and his imagination carried the rest.
"These are terrible. This king was as cruel as he was mighty. I think my father would have approved."
He stepped away, seemingly shaken by the images. He snapped to attention as Drot'ook nearly lashed out but relaxed as the Orc didn't begin to strangle Khatia.
A few moments later his eyes widened as Khatia began undressing in the middle of the tomb! It didn't matter that he turned away from her lithe form, he could still see. His enhanced vision caught Tesswyn, her cheeks normally hidden by dim shadow and distance showed crimson,and he caught her glaring look as well.
"We should press on, my magical resources are not exhausted. I'm going on ahead." Charles said, making an excuse to follow after Tesswyn down the stairs.
"Doesn't she know this is entirely the wrong place for that sort of behavior... " he said looking around the room.
"Don't think I missed your looks either Tess."
"I wasn't trying to hide them," Tesswyn mutters. "That slut needs to learn how to keep her clothes on."
Steep, wide stairs descend at the rear of the room, leading to a final downward stairway and into a hallway identical to the one above and leads back out the lower opening on the western wall of the shaft. In the hallway remnants of a previous battle can be seen along with four skeletal figures with ancient gear. Nothing seems of particular value, but you may replace any broken weapons you may have as well as acquire arrows.
Thanks to Kahtia's magic, the arrows are actually Arrows of Slaying. . You also discover two sealed gourds which contain healing magic (Potions of Healing).
Once at the end of the hall in the lower room, you can see the precarious stairs headed up to the rooms you were previously in. There's one more room below with even worse stairs. What little there is has maybe a few inches in stair sticking out of the wall.
Keeping a wary eye to the surroundings, Gärwin keeps his back to the party, trusting them to watch his back. The carvings on the corridor however caught his eye and wouldn't let go. The illustrations were stunningly vivid in the dwarf's mind, some even matching in parallel with scenes he himself had seen on the battlefield. The images started to blend with his one memories, sometimes he was the victim, others he was the executor.
The dwarven knight stands transfixed until a voice or more of a cry comes to him. For the first time since the incident, he hears the voice of his son calling out to him and it shakes him from his stupor. Bewildered, Gärwin looks around desperate seeking the source of the voice, even as it fades from his ears. The events of that day loom back into his mind as the alien lilt of his son's voice makes itself apparent.
---
Gärwin is quiet but takes his place after Tesswyn, keeping his dark-attuned eyes open. "Let's make sure this twice-damned bastard stays dead, shall we?"
Tesswyn adds the arrows to her quiver before peering down to the lower level. She pulls rope from her pack and looks back at Charles. "I got this."
With a flash of insight, she nimbly leaps down the crumbling stairs.
Tesswyn makes it down the precarious steps; for those not familiar with her nimbleness, she makes it look easy. For those who are, they can remain just as wary - for they know she has unnatural foresight for knowing exactly where to step and when.
She ties off a rope, making it easier for others to climb down.
To make the climb, it's an Agility Challenge Roll. With the rope set up, it's only two Banes. Other preparation can grant other boons to help cancel the Banes.
Kahtia applies a healing salve to her wounds when she is largely undressed; anyone watching can see that some of them look self-inflicted. When Charles hurries away, and while Gär becomes lost in thought at the wall, the black-haired beauty smiles at Drot as she pulls on her new robes and smooths them with her lean, strong hands.
"Does the female form make him uncomfortable?" she asks the orc, "Or is his love for his New God so great that any stirring in his loins causes him anguish?"
Once fully ready to continue, Kahtia joins Gär in front of the horrific carvings, just as he is coming out of his daze. She places a steadying hand on his shoulder as she scans the graven images herself; nothing she sees her compares to the task she's just had to undertake, but indeed -- Anak’hainunem is someone who needs to remain dead.
She follows her fellows down, claiming one of the healing gourds on the stairs.
Gärwin follows Tesswyn's confident movements cautiously. He knows he can't leave the rogue down in the dark alone. Her vision was limited by the light she had and worse yet, it painted a large target upon her. Unwanted surprises are best handled with steel in the way.
His descent was not graceful, but the dwarf made it down without trouble.
Drot looks uncomfortable himself as Kahtia asks her question. He gives her a double take, then looks at his feet before finally making regular, calm eye contact.
"I must admit, in the subject of relations between intelligent beings is a gap in my general knowledge of things. Never found it to be interesting. If I had to make an assessment of the situation, well... Charles and Tesswyn are my family, and we are a unit. I believe them to also be a unit separate from me, though we have yet to speak on it. With the other person of significance in the immediate vicinity and the general nature of monogamous living that the majority of peoples entertain... I'd say there is tension when you disrobe."
Drot gives the mage a curt nod. He smiles at himself, pleased with his deductive reasoning, but after a moment he realizes that he's just standing there like a dolt and briskly walks to the rest of the group mumbling to himself.
Once he reaches Charles' side and inspects the surroundings, he shakes his head at the two down below.
"That was a dangerous thing for them to do, Gärwin even more so. Let me think on this for a moment..."
After a brief brainstorm with his brother, Drot comes up with a suspension system using ropes attached to the waist and slipknots around the safety rope. He insists Charles and Kahtia go first so Drot can help stabilize Charles' less than nimble foot work from above and the mage wouldn't be much help against his quite heavy weight anyway.
When he does attempt the careful walk along the wall, a piece of stair he was stepping on broke out of the wall and sent him shooting to what he was sure to be his demise.
After Tess and Gär descend, and after Drot'ook rigs up his safety ropes, Kahtia speaks briefly to the group's paladin as she prepares to make her way down to where the intrepid pair awaits.
"Forgive my impropriety, Charles," she says quietly, coming to stand in front of the heavily armored man. "I do not mean to tempt you with displays of flesh. Drot'ook tells me he thinks you and Tesswyn are lovers, and I sense anger in her, jealousy. I will speak to her when we have finished delving this dread place. I will show her I did not meant to attract your attentions. My people are not embarrassed or ashamed of their bodies. I need to remember this is not so across all of Urth."
Beginning her climb awkwardly, Kahtia raises her voice so that all her companions can hear. "If we encounter animated statues again, stand back from them at first, fifteen feet or more. I have a spell that will wreak havoc with them, but anyone close by will be injured as well." Looking back to Drot, intending to speak on the subject of his transformation, the woman instead exclaims as she misses a handhold and falls, tangling in the rope. When the line goes taut and keeps her from plunging into the inky darkness, she smiles, then actually laughs.
"I owe you a debt, Drot'ook!" she calls up to the orc as she struggles to right herself, and to start climbing back up.
After seeing no apparent dangers in the corridor below, Gärwin takes a moment to enjoy the other half of his cigar. The others were taking their time getting down and he had a moment to spare. Or so he thought. When Khatia shoots past him, Gärwin is quick to grab the ropes inadvertently biting through his cigar in half.
"Woah! I gotcha! Yew gotta be more careful there miss!" The dwarf pulls the woman upward slowly, trying to make sure she doesn't hurt herself on the jagged stonework. "I thought yew mages had a spell for everythin', guess it's not so easy." Seemingly moments after Khatia safely returned to the land, Drot sailed by, leaving Gärwin diving for the ropes again.
"Ah Yes; many do, many do..."
He trails off as he remembers a variety of the successful projects and ingenious designs he conjured up over the years. His mind's eye is an exciting place to be when there is a problem to be solved.
With careful planning for some and a bit of luck for others, everyone makes it across the pit to the next hallway.
You notice that the relief of the archway you just left is carved to resemble a large sphincter where an oily black slime drips from the edge into the pit. Looking up, and it's clear to see the upper entrance was carved like the mouth of a jackal.
The frescoed archway you're entering is carved to resemble a human with a horrific expression and its mouth stretched wide in madness or pain.
The human visage opens into a rather nondescript hallway with braziers placed along either side of the floor at the far end of the hallway. As you approach, you see a throne room - a massive throne is centered near the back end of the room. A giant khopesh sword is suspended high above the throne; it glitters alluringly to all who view it.
In the middle of the room is a pool of black ichor with a five yard tall pillar in the middle of it. Runes decorate the pillar along all sides.
There is an additional ten braziers, five on the right side and five on the left side of the room, evenly spaced down the room, about half way between the pillar and the wall. Each of the iron braziers have a polished silver mirror attached to them. The mirrors are focused on the central black pillar. Each of the braziers looks to have coal in them.
Suspended above the pillar in the center of the room is a large and intricate mural made of human flesh, tattooed with a chaotic yet colorful dye. The mural looks like a child’s chaotic finger painting, but…
Looking at the mural from this angle f$%$s with your head.
In front of each brazier is a man-sized statue with a human face. The feet are within the stone of the floor.
There is a hallway to the left and the right of the room. They each have been carved and painted to look like chaos-imbued screaming human faces. Their mouths, opening onward into oblivion to either side of the chamber.
Tesswyn's eyes widen as she looks all around the room, taking in the maddening decor. The fresco... The open mouths... Her mind reels with unspoken terror.
"No! No... Make it stop, make it stop!" The girl falls to the floor and curls into a fetal ball, sobbing softly and rocking back and forth.
Drot decided while looking at the previous etchings that he wasn't to care for or ponder anymore of the pictographs uncovered while they descended into the depths of a crazed man's tomb. There was no logic or reason to be had.
Of course, a new medium drew his attention back to the very thing he swore off of. This time however, he noticed that the lines of the drawing didn't add up the way they needed to.
"That thing up there... I believe it's designed to be viewed from a less extreme angle... It almost looks li-"
"Like they used flesh for a canvas... Can't say I've never seen that before. Certainly the most creative piece, though it makes it even more gruesome."
A sadness takes over Drot's words as he recalls bad memories from orc slums and slave ships.
The sadness is quickly replaced by fascination as he sees the statues and realizes there is a connection between the braziers, mirrors, obelisk, flash canvas, the pitch, and the room!
"Oooooh... There is something to be done here. L-look here at these, a-and here and the angles! What does this all do!?"
He gets to work on experimenting, visualizing the direction of the flow of light and begins doing what he does best. Fiddling.
Gärwin makes a face as they walk through what for all intents and purposes looked like a bloody sphincter."Well, they sure went the extra mile t' make us feel welcome. Don't tell me what that liquid is, I'm not interested."
The next room had the twisted mockery of a human face that unnerved the dwarf but was not enough to truly drive fear into him. It was disturbing enough to inspire the dwarf to take action though. "Ugh, some sculptures deserve a good smashin'. What do yeh say Drot? Crush 'em inna dust with that warhammer o' yours."
- - -
Gärwin whistles as they enter the throne room, the grandiose scale of the place was impressive. What truly caught the dwarf's eye though was the glittering weapon. The throne and weapon were clearly valuable and the old fires lit once more in Gärwin's heart. Several ideas ticked through Gärwin's mind as he looked at the rest of the room.
The doors on either side were more twisted mockeries much like the first, and not quite as effective afterward. The painting though, it caught Gärwin's eye and he saw something that made his blood run cold. Mixed into the mishmash of seemingly random colors was one of alien origin, one he'd only seen once before.
Before he realized what he was doing, Gärwin ran for the braziers. He attempts to start a fire amongst the coals. He needed to burn the painting, burn it all away!
After getting free of the tangle and joining her fellows at the lower chamber entrance, Kahtia glances down into the darkness and shivers at the thought of slipping down into that cold, dank, doom. She thanks Gildenbeard by clasping one of the dwarf's thick forearms warmly, meeting his steady gaze. "Your hands are strong and sure, Gärwin -- thank you for your help. And it is true, there are spells and invocations for every occasion, but I do not pretend to know them all."
Looking up, Kahtia sees the terrible effigy they are entering, and her skin bristles with goosebumps. "And I am saving my strength for whatever horror we uncover in the depths of this place.
Investigating the chamber alongside the rest of the group, the mage solemnly takes in the sights, as disturbing as they are. She watches as first Tess and then Gär succumb to the evil that seems to dwell in every shadow. Glancing up at the giant blade, she shivers again.
"We are not welcome here," she says simply, clearly.
Charles nodded to Katia. "Tesswyn has been defensive of you. But like you said, I'm sure if you talk to her about it she will come around. I had no idea that it was something akin to your peoples culture. Mine has always been very reserved, I suppose. We'll have more time for this later."
He waited for Khatia to try and get across, which took some doing. But thankfully it worked out.
Charles went after, managing to cross the chasm thankfully without too much issue.
He looked at the strange painting and just couldn't quite grasp what he was looking at. "What... what is this? I don't understand."
He was starting to feel sickened by the sight but he shook off the effects.
The mixed metal ring on his right hand had been reacting every time he saw the strange one of the nightmarish depictions. The white metal lit up brightly, helping to shield his mind.
He glanced again at the opposite hallway, shaking his head again. When he heard Tesswyn, he immediately headed over to her.
"It's alright, Tesswyn. I'm here." he said, kneeling down next to her and wrapping his arms around her.
Tesswyn clings to Charles like a drowning cat, refusing to open her eyes. "No, it's not alright! Can't you see? No. You see, but you don't see. The signs!"
She clutches her holy symbol and begins to babble. "Father Death slithers under my skin, leaving rot and misery in his wake. His mouth agape to swallow me whole. Why were we born into this world only to die? We are all children, yes, children of the World Mother. Spread wide your legs, Mother. Let me crawl back inside your womb! It is the only safe place. The only way to avoid death is to not be born!"
Charles mouth opens in a small gasp as Tesswyn starts to babble. His heart twisted with pain as he watched her lose her mind. But his own beliefs shown through. He held on to her even tighter, matching her grasp. "No, Tesswyn, no. Death is just a doorway to another life. I.. I don't know why we are born, I'm not smart enough to have those answers but I do know that if you had never been born then I'm sure I would have died at some point along the way. I'm happy you are here, so please don't leave.
I know it's not your religion, but may the light of the New God help you to find your way back." He said, letting her go with one hand to grasp around his own serpentine medallion. A moment later, a soft white light began to glow.
Tesswyn seems to relax slightly as the white light suffuses her. She blinks as she regains a modicum of her wits and looks up at Charles, eyes wet with tears. "Charles..."
She throws her arms around the priest and holds him tightly. "I don't ever want to leave you," she manages before breaking into a fresh round of sobs.
He holds her there, letting her cry. Then after a time he calls upon his God's light again.
"The New God won't abandon you to the dark. I'll make sure of it,"
"and this might help too." he then takes off the black and white intertwined ring.
"This place has danger that assaults the senses everywhere. I know you need to see the signs but you're too close to them driving you somewhere dark. The white metal seems to react to things that are directly harmful to your mind. The black metal does something similar when your mind can't take anymore but there's a cost... so be careful."
Tesswyn nods and wipes at her eyes before sliding the ring onto her finger beside the ring of endurance. She stares at the pattern of the twisting metal for perhaps longer than necessary before feeling brave enough to release her boyfriend from her embrace.
She suppresses a shudder but forces herself to look at the "art" again. "Drot, you said we need a better angle?" She retrieves the rod she found in the desert and activates it, watching it extend into a ladder. Then she clambers up to see what she can see.