"Let us cut through the kitchen" - Garrosh adds after pondering a moment - "Why is it haunted? Is there any supernatural entity there?"
"Dunno - the lid on the cauldron over the kitchen’s cold westernmost fireplace clatters whenever anyone steps near it, even though no one has used it since the cook was murdered during the uprising."Wren replies."Some of the cultists said they saw the spectral image of the dead cook as they approached the cauldron and felt sick afterwards."Wren adds.
"Ok, thank you for the information. We'll risk it"
Good to go when the team is ;)
"Don't look at me like that." Says Kilarra when Wren gives her a poignant look. "Not all of them had lost their minds... well actually yes all of them had lost their minds, but some were a lot more pitiful and harmless than others. Not all of em are dead, and the ones that are are better off that way."
"To the kitchens then, though no matter how curious, maybe we should leave the haunted kettle alone." Piotr agrees and suggests.
I’ll take it that you ran into some acolytes then?” Wren asks Kilarra, then raises an eyebrow, ”You know that a lot of the people donning yellow – most of them are just former patients who want to stay living? And with Zandalus’s dream assassin around…joining up has better odds?”
”And it’s the cauldron,” Wren corrects Piotr.
Piotr opens the door to the kitchen.
A row of fireplaces stand among the heaps of barrel-sized pots and cooking implements of this ruin of a kitchen. Numerous doors lead to the south, east and west, while multiple corners of the L-shaped room have collapsed. A line of large rocks deliberately cordons the westernmost door and one of the cauldrons.
"We are all just trying to stay living Wren - it is the way you do it that makes a difference" - Garrosh grunts - "We have not confronted anyone when we had an alternative"
As they approach the kitchen, Garrosh peers through the threshold.
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26
If nothing, tanks can go :D
Does that mean Caraid is going first again? :)
Caraid waits for Garrosh to check the room and as he does so the air around him begins to vibrate.
Any chance we can pass without getting too close?
Piotr worries a bit about Caraid joining him in the lead, but Ann suggests firmly to keep his mouth shut about it. "He has powers you do not understand, so as long as his mother isn't yelling at him to get back, you shouldn't either."
So he listens and just nods as the two of them start moving through the room toward the west door. Avoiding the cauldron as best as possible.
As Kilarra removes the rocks and approaches the cauldron, the cauldron overturns and a vaporous, spectral image of a lean man’s sobbing face pours forth, filling the area and then dissolving.
kilarra knowledge religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
Kilarra realizes to exorcise the haunt, the lean man's body must be exhumed and buried properly or all patients must leave Brairstone Asylum.
There is also a foul smell coming from Kilarra's backpack.
All the trail rations in Kilarra's backpack have decomposed into some foul,rotting mush. And smell terrible.
Garrosh stands at attention as the spectral image appears, his bow drawn - "Kilarra, what is it?"
I assume Kilarra will share the info with us, but I will wait. Also, is there any dead body in the kitchen? :P
"Oh that... " Piotr has a moment where he considers losing his lunch "That is vile."
Caraid makes a face but doesn't seem about to be sick. He simply tries not to look at the cauldron as he helps Kilarra pull the stones aside.
"It's a... what was the word... haunt! It's like a small, annoying ghost. And if I'm right... yes, it putrefied my food. Great. So if we want to deal with it, we have to find the cook's body, exhume and bury it. This is one of those things where destroying the thing doesn't really work."
Piotr nods and starts looking for a body perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
"Caraid, could you... um... lift some of that without any of us getting close?" he'll gesture over to the oozing pile.
The boy shrugs and does his best to oblige, tactically shifting small rocks in the hope that the larger ones will fall by themselves.
Knw En: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15
The smell as Caraid starts moving the rocks becomes more overwhelmingly foul, but he manages to uncover a decomposing black mess leaking yellow fluid and that is humanoid in shape but as most of the skin has sloughed off after being under constant pressure under the rocks, its features are unrecognizable.
"There is that courtyard we came out of, we could bury him there? As long as we think we can make it through the cultists carrying the body." Piotr adds a question to Caraid "Is the body too big for you to lift?"
Piotr sighs "Well it was a nice thought anyway." he tells the kid "Anyone got a tarp or long cloth to wrap him up in?"
If no one does, Piotr will take off his new fancy cloak (it was just on maggoty corpse so it can't be too clean anyway) and do his best to contain the worst of the black mess. Then he'll heave it up and over his shoulder, "Let's hurry please."
"We still have these" - Garrosh moves forward to assist Piotr, and producing one of the doctor's coats they had found before - "It can assist with the wrapping - we have a long way to go"
We are going to B1, right?
I think that is the only place we have access to that we could bury someone.
Putting the doctor's coat on the ground next to the body with some rope under that as well, Piotr tries to used his shield to push the body over on the coat. He then lays another coat on top on the body, and wraps it up as best as he can with the rope. Then heaves the entire thing up over his shoulder.
"Lead the way" since he's a bit occupied with body carrying.
Piotr manages to get the decomposing, squishy mess onto the doctor's coats and bundles it into a make shift package that smells hideous.
The rat creatures – upon smelling the nauseating smell, make themselves scarce, yelling at the party from the top of the bookshop, actively trying to put some distance between themselves and the party. ” Beth yw'r hec ydych chi'n ei gario? Rydych chi'n arogli fel rhywbeth newydd farw!”
What the heck are you carrying? You smell like something just died!
” Os gwelwch yn dda ewch allan o'r llyfrgell a chymryd eich drewdod gyda chi!” Another shouts while staying as far from Piotr as possible.
Please get out of the library and take your stink along with you!
"Peidiwch ag anghofio nad yw'r llyfrgell hon yn eiddo i chi" - Garrosh growls in a foul mood - "Yr hyn sy'n rhaid i ni ei wneud heddiw yw er lles enaid, na fydd yn cael ei orffwys nes iddo gael ei gladdu'n iawn. Ydych chi'n deall beth mae hyn yn ei olygu?"
"Do not forget this library is not yours"
"What we have to do today is for the good of a soul, who will not have its rest until it is properly buried. Do you understand what this means?"
Still he presses on toward the outside area.
"Ahh chi groen pinc a'ch arferion rhyfedd. Onid yw unwaith yn groen pinc wedi marw, busnes Pharasma ydyw?" One of the ratlings reply.
Ahh you pink skin and your weird customs. Isn't it once a pink skin dead, it's Pharasma's business?
As the party approaches the barricade, Tolman winces and furrows his eyebrows as the stench hits them, while Barnes outright curses. "The smell! Urgh!", while tapping his crossbow twice on the barricade, "They might have been turned into the walking dead, be wary." He tells Tolman.
"If we were the walking dead, we wouldn't be able to tell how much of an ass you can be." Says Kilarra as she plainly looks Barnes in the eyes, clearly done with his s+#*.
Piotr barks the password loudly from the back followed by a "If you think it is bad from THERE, SMELL the end next to MY FACE! Hurry up!" he is rather irate at any delay.
"OK, you may pass." Barnes lets the party go through. As they get through the barricade, most of the refugees and the other two guards cover their noses at the smell and avoid the party, or give them puzzled looks.
?: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Trampled flowerbeds lie smeared and squashed across this muddy courtyard. On all sides, stark gray walls climb toward a narrow gap of sunless sky. It is pouring, but the rain has a sulphuric stench. The party hears a shrill bird screech in the distance, as they enter the courtyard.
Caraid sets to work, scooping earth aside with his hands and his mind in an attempt to create a suitable grave - or at least bury the smell.
Piotr settles the body in the grave and then starts to cover it up "Will someone go ask Winter to come and give the proper words?"
"I'll take care of it." Says Kilarra. She walks away to find Winter, and says "We figure a Pharasmin is the best choice to put a body to rest. He's got a haunt that's in our way. Come to the courtyard and say a few words, would you?"
"I'll take care of it."
"No need" - Garrosh grunts at Kilarra - "Any of us can share words with those that depart. Any of us can relate to some of what the deceased have endured or enjoyed in their lives. We are all the same" - the half-orc adds, moving to stand over the shallow grave - "You will go to rest, but your memory will remain, alive with us though little we knew you. Your wrongs shall be righted, and vengeance shall be enacted. Go in peace knowing there are those who do not rest until the battle is ended. In your name, and of all others deserving"
As Garrosh says those words, a feeling of peace descends over the party, leaving them more fortified in their mind as if something had finally had gone to rest.
The party may choose to gain a +1 to their will save for a single use, which can be declared before or after the roll is made, for the day.
Garrosh nods - "Do you feel this? We have done the right thing" - he speaks to his companions - "Let us get back to the task at hand"
Let us go back and past the kitchen :D
The party gives the appropriate hand signals and pass codes and get through both sets of guards without incident, though Barnes does wrinkle his nose at the party and returns to the kitchen.
A row of fireplaces stand among the heaps of barrel-sized pots and cooking implements of this ruin of a kitchen. Numerous doors lead to the south, east and west, while multiple corners of the L-shaped room have collapsed. A gap has been cleared in the line of large rocks that cordons the westernmost door and one of the cauldrons. There is still a faint stink of decay in the air but certainly not as overpowering as when the party uncovered the body.
Moving to the door, Piotr finds the door closed, and does not think its trapped. He does, however hear the sound of chirping and squeaking from the door.
Take 10 perception given
Piotr gestures to the others about chirps and squeaking (probably making no sense but he tries) then he pushed the door open, shield and sword at the ready.
The room is partially collapsed with yellow mist filling it. In the yellow mist, is a brightly coloured, long-necked amphibian has six legs, a fanged snout, and numerous finlets running down its spine.
” Arrrrghhh dianc oddi wrthyf neu byddaf yn brathu!” The brightly coloured, long-necked amphibian gives a loud hiss, as it leaps back in alarm.
Arrrrghhh get away from me or I'll bite!
Caraid init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Garrosh init: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Garrosh init reroll take best: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Piotr init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Rozalia init: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Kilarra init: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
creature: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (15) + 3 = 18
Garrosh roll off: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Creature roll off: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Rozalia knowledge arcana: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (17) + 9 = 26
Garrosh, then creature, then party
Rozalia recognizes it as a Voonith. She knows that vooniths are amphibious nocturnal predators with voracious appetites and mild intelligence. A voonith’s howl is said to freeze the blood and is more than capable of stopping a creature in its tracks. Vooniths usually howl when they see prey too far away from the water’s edge to ambush. While the vooniths are native to the strange Dimension of Dream, many have found their way out of that realm and into the waking world to take up lairs in the swampy fens and remote coastlines of the world. How the vooniths originally managed to make this transition between worlds is unclear.
Although they look like little more than wild beasts, vooniths are actually rather intelligent. While certainly not as sharp as the average human, a voonith is smart enough to know how to speak and often does so with others of its kind. Vooniths do not often choose to communicate with other creatures, giving rise to the misconception that they’re little more than dumb animals, but on occasion, travelers in swampy regions tell tales of overhearing strange piping voices speaking among the reeds. Those few who know the secrets of the Aklo tongue can understand these words, although understanding of what the vooniths whisper in the night when they think no one else can hear is not always for the best.
While not evil, vooniths have a decidedly dark sense of humor, and take great pleasure in concocting violent poems or grisly jokes. Punch lines in which non-voonith creatures particularly humans, cats, and gnomes meet gory and ironic fates are the most entertaining to vooniths. Some tales speak of canny travelers who, with the ability to speak Aklo, manage to strike up unlikely conversations with lurking vooniths. In truth, vooniths are quite social, and when one breeches the awkwardness arising from interspecies conflict, a friendship with a voonith can be an unexpected reward. Vooniths who befriend travelers often escort them, quietly and unseen, through dangerous bogs, and when such travelers fall prey to other dangers of the swamp, a friendly voonith will provide what aid it can.
Rozalia also knows that it can trip with its bite.
As a standard action, a voonith can unleash a bloodcurdling howl. All creatures within a 30-foot-radius burst must succeed at a Will save or become dazed for 1 round and then shaken for an additional 1d6 rounds. Any creature that makes a successful save against a voonith’s howl is immune to the same voonith’s howl for 24 hours. This is a sonic mind-affecting fear effect.