Facing the south wall with the three levers, Dire Bear Johann can clearly see the Roman numerals graven in the knobs of the levers, from left to right: I, II, III. Facing the three portcullis to the east barring passage up the stairs to a higher landing, where a great black metal cauldron sits, Johann can barely make out a dark archway in the north wall of the upper landing, just north of the cauldron, where another stairway or corridor might continue deeper into the Catacombs...
For lack of anything better to do, Alphonse pulls lever number 1.
For lack of anything better to do, Alphonse pulls lever number 1.
As the holy knight pulls lever 1, the first portcullis rises up into a narrow housing in the archway above.
At the same time, the demon mouth Lady Ihrin plugged up with debris on the upper landing belches a relatively harmless cloud of smoke and soot...
"Try lever two"
"Try lever two"
Alphonse shrugs and pulls the second lever.
Alphonse shrugs and pulls the second lever.
As Sir Alphonse pulls the second lever, the second portcullis rises up into a narrow housing in the archway. At the same time, the stairs ascending to the cauldron suddenly flatten into a ramp...
Also, a flaming torch drops into the cauldron up the ramp, igniting a flammable fluid...
'Does anyone have any Engineering skills?" She says looking at the others hoping they do.
Alphonse tries number three.
Alphonse tries number three.
As soon as Sir Alphonse pulls the third lever, the final portcullis is raised with a clattering. At the same time, the cauldron of flaming alchemical fluid is overturned, spilling a river of fire down the ramp towards the landing where Sir Alphonse and Johann are standing!
Alphonse seems relatively unbothered.
"Let us move on, my companions. No time to waste babying ourselves over a slight singing."
|
"GRRRAHHHHHHHOOOOOO!" Johann flails about, rolling on the ground and howling.
"Easy for a graaaghhh---paladin--- grrrrr to ignore it. I have a lot of flammable fur!"
Still, Bear Johann is able to push forward after the oil burns it self off. As they pass the cauldron Johann gives it a big angry push down the ramp.
The Mighty Ones proceed down the stairway that connects the fourth level to the fifth level of the Catacombs, descending into a spacious chamber with an archway opening into a corridor in the far wall, and another archway covered by a black curtain on the wall to the adventurers' left.
"Seems a bit toasty" She says looking to Johann.
"Seems a bit toasty" She says looking to Johann.
[dice=Perception]1d20+22
[dice=Stealth]1d20+13
Ihrin hears men discussing some urgent matter from beyond the black curtain...
Heard from the other side of the black curtain covering the archway in the west wall of the chamber, a voice speaking English with native fluency:
Our master has assured us that if we are killed, our spirits will be transported into the simulacrum in the deeper caverns instead of being damned to Hell, and we shall awaken in those bodies with our full memories intact. Let us hope that contingency shall never be necessary. But if the simulacrum are discovered and destroyed, we must be prepared to consider the alternative immortality offered by the elixir...
Heard from behind the black curtain, a reply from a different voice, speaking English with a Burgundian accent:
Undeath must be preferable to damnation, at any rate... But I shudder to think of the horrific pain involved in dying after drinking that venomous ichor... and then rising as a lich... No. I would much rather we safeguard the simulacrum in some way.
A third voice, replying in fluent English:
It is not so bad as you might think, my good Duke Phillip... I can attest to that... After a few minutes of unpleasantness, you feel quite...numb...
It is well that you have accepted your new condition, brother... But I must admit to revulsion at your mere presence! That is not how I wish to spend my days, if it can be helped... Better to transfer my spirit to a living simulacrum of myself than to endure a mockery of life as you have chosen, no matter what unnatural powers may come along with lichdom... I mean, just look at you, man! Have you looked long in a mirror? No, I suppose you would not, with your nose rotten away to a maggotty hole, and your eyes shriveled to burning coals in black sockets!
Hahaha! You flatter me, brother! Your vanity is a weakness. Father always chided you for it...
Enough of your brotherly bantering. How can we further safeguard our simulacrum in the event that our master's defenses should fail? Those meddling Crusaders and Jackals and Lusty Fools are notorious for foiling our master's foolproof plans... Hey, did you hear something?
The Fox sees that Ihrin is listening intently up ahead, and waits for her to act.
Materializing out of the shadows near the curtain, a translucent woman, badly burnt, her hair burned off, and armored in plate and mail, passionately pleads to Sir Alphonse: Derrière ce rideau se trouvent les méchants qui m'ont capturé et m'ont fait brûler comme hérétique! Vengez-moi, Sir Alphonse, je vous en supplie!
The apparition vanishes...
The voices behind the curtain fall silent after the ghost speaks and vanishes, and the sound of footfalls quickly receding away are heard...
Ihrin sneaks in.
She will follow whoever she can.
Mwikali uses the finger to the lips gesture and then wisphers."magical Copy"
Mwikali shrugs."I am no sorcerer or wizard,I am not sure."
Ihrin sneaks in.
Slipping past the black curtain as quietly as a ghost herself, Lady Ihrin sees a gaunt, pallid man with eyes like burning coals in sunken sockets and a rotten hole instead of a nose, clad in noble finery and armed with a longsword, its blade flickering with green spectral luminosity. Supernatural dread radiates from the foreboding figure...
He stands still, facing the black curtain, about ten feet away from it, but for the moment, he doesn't seem to notice the stealthy Lady Ihrin as she slips past the curtain...
Lady Ihrin briefly spies two other shadowy figures quickly retreating down the corridor to the west before vanishing around a corner to the northwest...
Ihrin stops and stands still breathing as she sinks into herself to not panic she wasn't noticed
"Many things are tools Johann, it is the user that deems whether it is good or evil, but even that is not clearly defined"Mwikali says as she looks about.
"Wait where did Ihrin go?"
Johann perks up at Mwikali's words and strides forth rapidly, stopping as he sees gaunt man standing there.
"Grarrrggghhhh... Servant of Nero, we shall kill you and your little simulcriuuum thing too!"
The undead nobleman glares at Dire Bear Johann with red glowing hellfire eyes in hollow sockets and replies: Ah! We have been expecting you. So, it seems that Nero has fallen, if you have made it this far. You must be Mighty Ones, indeed! I have chosen a state of undeath, like my fallen master... You shall find no simulacrum of mine to destroy... And I trust that my phylactery is hidden well enough that you shall never find it, either... Come, then! The lich raises its green-glowing longsword in a battle stance...
INITIATIVES:
LORD PERPIREEN
DIRE BEAR JOHANN
LADY IHRIN
OGON FOX
MWIKALI & KIKU
DUKE OF BEDFORD
SIR ALPHONSE
MIGHTY ONES VS LICH DUKE OF BEDFORD!! ROUND 1!! FIGHT!!
LADY IHRIN!
OGON FOX!
DIRE BEAR JOHANN!
LORD PERPIREEN!
MWIKALI & KIKU!
LICH DUKE OF BEDFORD!
SIR ALPHONSE!
EEEEEEEK!!!
Materializing out of the shadows near the curtain, a translucent woman, badly burnt, her hair burned off, and armored in plate and mail, passionately pleads to Sir Alphonse: Derrière ce rideau se trouvent les méchants qui m'ont capturé et m'ont fait brûler comme hérétique! Vengez-moi, Sir Alphonse, je vous en supplie!
** spoiler omitted **
The apparition vanishes...
An Englishman to the core, Alphonse doesn't understand a word of French. However, he gets the gist of what she's asking for regardless.
"Worry not, vengeance shall be had for your unjust treatment. If not this day then another their sins will come due."
Hides, He is not supposed to be there.
Materializing out of the shadows near the curtain, a translucent woman, badly burnt, her hair burned off, and armored in plate and mail, passionately pleads to Sir Alphonse: Derrière ce rideau se trouvent les méchants qui m'ont capturé et m'ont fait brûler comme hérétique! Vengez-moi, Sir Alphonse, je vous en supplie!
** spoiler omitted **
The apparition vanishes...
An Englishman to the core, Alphonse doesn't understand a word of French. However, he gets the gist of what she's asking for regardless.
"Worry not, vengeance shall be had for your unjust treatment. If not this day then another their sins will come due."
Hearing and apparently understanding Sir Alphonse's promise, the ghost of Joan of Arc smiles and nods before vanishing into shadow...
Ihrin Strikes from her hiding spot
Mwikali sighs."Great more undead!" She says as she begins to whip up some spells