The gnome stands firm with his companions with ranged combat. "Ibrox. Ibrox!" the jovial gnome repeats blasting one the creatures of the void with a stern voice and a pointed finger.
Trevor tosses one of his last javelins at the creature attacking Aterro, but a tentacle easily slaps the spear aside before it causes any harm. But the attack was effective enough to distract the creature from Vrindel's much more dangerous ball of flame and once again the smell of foul burning flesh fills the area. The blast of eldritch power misses the gnomes intended target and again turns a bit of the old ruined wall beyond into gravel.
Aterro continues his elegant weaving, spinning dance. Thor's luck surely runs through his veins as once again he is unharmed by the swirling mass of attacking arms. The second creature moves in toward the cleric, but as it closes Zove releases her magic on the creature and it suddenly shrinks to half its size. Now standing a head or two below the cleric, the creature still lashes out although it's reach and blows are not nearly as strong as they could have been. But the sudden change in size throws off Aterro's calculations for just a moment, and one of the small tentacles gets through his defenses. Although the strength of the blow is not as severe, its cold touch still sears and blackens the skin. Fortunately, the cold impacts for only a moment before Aterro slips away from the grasping appendage.
"Ibrox!" the jovial gnome repeats blasting at one the creatures of the void with a stern voice and a pointed finger blowing off a tentacle.
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"GRAH!" Attero grunts as he dances out of the way from the darting arm. "A hit! A palpable hit!"
He pats at the wounded flank with a hand and finds no great harm, his heavy armor having shielded him from the worst of it, and the frostbite not greater than the un-clothed midnight swim on graduation day.
"Is this all the sport you have, terrors of other worlds?" Aterro calls at them, one-handedly batting away a scouting tentacle. "How ever will you sup upon our souls if your greatest threats can not even unseat but one man?
Well, I am very hardy, so you are forgiven in most respects. Here I would say that your time is short. Or at least it would be if SOMEONE could hit them a bit harder?" he calls out, cajoling the party to double their efforts.
As Aterro continues to fend off the monsters' attacks, all seems to work well ennough and Trevor is happy to try his last javelin.
As he feels the javelin fly true, he asks Khors to bless his weapon.
Vrindel sweats and grunts with the effort as he tries to ram his flaming ball of aberration misery into some gaping orifice of the unholy creature.
Flame damage (DC 13 DEX save for 1/2)
"Die you blasphemy to the natural order of things! You should not even be here".
Heeding the cleric's advice, Trevor steps into his next throw and sends his last javelin flying toward the bigger voidspawn imbued with the radiant blessing of Khors. The thin spear lands true and buries itself deep into the body of the creature before it bursts with radiant energy that simply dismembers the creature. Much of the main body is instantly vaporized, while twitching tentacles and bits of gooey, rubbery flesh cascade on and around Aterro coating him from head to toe.
With the bigger creature gone, Vrindel and the others turn their attention to the remaining smaller, but still dangerous horror. Slightly stunned by the brilliant demise of its companion, it fails to see Vrindel's ball of flame. The burning orb slams against its main body, searing flesh and causing it to lurch back a couple of steps and right into the aim of both Zove and Ibrox. Zove's bolt of fire and a blast of eldritch power from Ibrox rock the creature back a few more paces, but soon enough it slithers back in on the cleric who continues his dance avoiding the swirling, writhing tentacles.
Without a javelin left, Trevor resigns himself, lifts his shield high, and gets his smaller, but magical, axe as he rushes to stand beside Aterro.
"You have to hit them, you know? Otherwise, they don't die!" he advises the priest as he swings at the creature.
Satisfaction bubbles up in Vrindel's throat as his ball of monster slaying flame continues it's success.
(Dex Save DC 13 for half) Rnd. 6/10
"Keep it going friends. We are working with Clockwork precision. Good Job"!
"Ibrox!" the jovial gnome repeats with a stern voice and a pointed finger blowing off a small tentacle.
Trevor moves in on the reduced voidspawn. Wielding his heavy axe, he swings for a killing blow, but at the last moment the quick moving thing slips to the side and the axe sails past without causing any harm. The same action causes Zove's fiery elven dagger to miss as well. However, it doesn't prevent Vrindel from slamming his flaming orb into the creatures side once again. Nor does Ibrox miss with his blast of eldritch force, enhanced with necrotic energy. Again the creatures skin burns and withers from the companions attacks. But again, the creature continues to stand and swipe at the still dodging Aterro. The cleric luck and skill are no match for the thing from the void. However, seeing the threat from Trevor, one tentacle lashes out toward the young knight right after he own axe blow failed to connect. The rubbery appendage strikes the knight solidly across the shoulder with a load smacking sound, followed by the burning cold of the void seeping into his body.
"Ibrox!" the jovial gnome repeats triumphantly with a stern voice and a pointed finger.
The smell of burning aberration flesh almost overwhelming him Vrindel sent his ball of burning flesh to rub up against the remaining beast.
flame (DC13 Dex for 1/2)
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Aterro chuckles as Trevor berates his conservative fighting style only to be rewarded with a solid tentacle blow to the face. "Ha! Though it also helps if you are not hit thyself! Or does Kors reward his followers based on how much pain they have needlessly inflicted upon themselves?
Still, since you have now joined in GLORIOUS COMBAT, I must needs attack in echelon, with you at my side
brother."
Aterro shifts the grip on WarGuard and LUNGES forward, his hammer whistling through the air, singing with bloodlust to be on the offensive again!
Trevor, thankfully, is too busy being in pain and afraid for his life to pay attention to Aterro’s words. He raises his axes and strikes once more.
Zove sends another fiery dagger whistling off into wall, but then Trevor, Aterro, Vrindel and Ibrox all combine their attacks to smash, slice, burn, and blast the final creature into a pulpy mess of otherworldly remains. As soon as it collapses to the ground, the darkness gives way and the light of day returns warming the air. Sunlight strikes the black frost creating a light mist that quickly dissipates on the light spring breeze.
After a few minutes, one of the rescued villagers pokes his head out of the tent. I-i-is it s-s-s-safe to come out?" He says stuttering from both the earlier chill and his obvious fear over the many events of the past several days.
"We did well, yes?" Trevor says, relieved. "You all had wonderful ideas, and they played well to keep us safe. Khors smiles on our endeavour!" he adds, as he claps Aterro's shoulder.
"Yes! I bet Thor's happy too, even though it's not raining!"
"Let's go save the villagers if they still live down there." Ibrox suggests.
"Yes, let's!" says Trevor as he uses his healing hand gift to heal his wounds before preparing to head back down.
Zove spends some time while the others tend their wounds to examine and dig through the remains of the void creatures.
"W-w-what is she d-d-d-oing?" Stammers one of the villagers. His face visibly pale then turning a slight shade of green as the shadow fae pushes her arm deep into the interior of the bulbous body cavity of one of the dead things. The squishing, sucking noises of her exploration eventually too much for the weak stomached villager who rushes behind the tent before loosing what little food he's eaten over the last few days. His companion turns to Trevor with a puzzled and slightly disgusted look on his face. "Does she do that a lot?" He asks the young knight.
Unfortunately the young mage finds nothing of real arcane interest beyond the unusual internal working of a creature that can survive in the cold emptiness of the void. There were a few instructors from her academy days that would have paid handsomely for such specimens, but alas one had disappeared during The Incident while the other had retired to an estate in some backwater she had never heard of.
Eventually Trevor and Ibrox, perhaps to escape Zove's gruesome explorations, approach the dark entrance of the keep for a second time. This time no light at all exists inside. There is only cold and darkness as the two companions poke their heads inside.
Ibrox with his eyes used to seeing in dark places, sees that little has actually changed in the ruined hall, except that no light filters in from the stairwell leading down into the lower area of the keep. It appears free of any of the creatures from the void.
"Do you need a light source, Trevor? I'm alright in the dark." The cheerful gnome asks the budding knight.
Vrindel after reassuring the Villagers that Zove knows what she's doing follows the others into the darkness.
"I do not require the light, but I'm sure it wouldn't hurt".
With Vrindel's encouragement, the two village men settle back down into the tent, one muttering about returning to the village, while the other wishes to stay and help.
Without the benefit of direct sunlight, the main hall is still cold and the black void frost covers many parts of the room. The two lanterns still sit with the other tools, but the metal parts are all frozen and stuck, but otherwise may still function with a little oil and effort. The wooden handles of the tools a blackened and brittle, no longer useful or strong enough to serve their original purpose.
Despite the frosty cold air, things do seem to warm slightly as you examine the tools and the entrance back down into the lower chambers. Before there was the red light of fire or lanterns flickering from below, now there is only darkness. Similar to the the rest of the hall, the stairs are covered with an icy frost, making them potentially slick and dangerous.
Trevor looks at the two villagers and says, trying to keep a solemn face: "Hmmm... Let’s just say you’re glad to be breathing and walking about, eh?"
But then he bursts out laughing and moves on to start exploring the cave.
"Still so cold..."
As they move deeper, he takes position behind Aterro.
His helmet got loose and keeps sliding in front of his eyes, so Trevor spends most of his time fussing with his kit.
Zove's flames flicker and dance along the steps for several moments before finally fading from existence as the rest of the party follows her down into the keep's lower level.
The light of the lantern reveals the first room to be much as it was before. Rubble scattered about, little of interest. The air down here is bitterly cold, making breathing almost painful at times. Great clouds form in front of each of you as you breath out and everything is coated with the same black frost. Oddly, most of the rubble that once was confined to the area near the far door has been broken up and scattered across the entire room creating an ankle-twisting surface of loose stone and debris. With almost no air movement, your freezing breath mixes with the still lingering fine dust that hangs in the air from when the beams and stones were smashed and pulverized into their current state to create a heavy fog that swirls with every little movement.
The previously blocked doorway, is now accessible although no light illuminates the passage beyond as it did earlier.
A immense shiver snaps through the cheerful gnome. "Wonder if the source of that cold is through that doorway."
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CON Save
” Does anybody else think it’s hot in here”?
"I wouldn't call it hot... I'm just glad I packed those wool socks at the village. The boots are a bit cramped with them, but at least they keep my feet warm..." then he realizes where he is and shuts up immediately, checking his axe is where it should be, as well as his javelins.
"Right. Where to next? If it's cold, it means those tentacles are around, no?"
Trevor moves to the mouth of the tunnel and lets Aterro go through, following right behind, opting for his shield and battleaxe.
Brave Sir Trevor steps up and allows Aterro the honor of passing into the next chamber first. Not an unwise move as the light of your lanterns reveal a grisly scene. The remains of what appear to be several villagers and trollkin are scattered throughout what used to be a wine cellar. Various body parts intermingle with each other and the wooden shelving which has been pulverized into pulp. Old frozen blood and gore lines the floor with the remains of shattered bottles and whatever contents they may have held. It is as if each of the victims had been ripped apart as tossed haphazardly across about the chamber.
Everything continues to be covered in a layer of the same black, icy frost. And although it doesn't seem possible, the air feels even colder especially as you approach an archway to the south that leads to a third chamber.
Without entering the other room, it is easy to see the dim blueish, white glow emanating from a series of runes along a tall spear-like shaft standing about fifty feet from the archway. There isn't enough light to see much else, but even from back beyond the arch, the power of the runes makes the hair on arms and head twitch with electrical energy.
Ibrox looks around the wine cellar for anything useful among the body parts or potential wine bottles. Lots of soap and small parchments, but a bit sloppy. He thinks to himself.
"Attero, is that your magic Thorspear?"
Trevor is taken by the gruesome sight and steps back, his last meal rising out of him as he rests against the wall, truly taken by dread.
As Zove provides more confusion to his thoughts, he blurts out: "Whatever, but why this?! And where is that necromancer!? He needs to be judged for this!"
Perception
"Yes. I see it. It seems to actually be pulling in the surrounding light... not simply masking it. Zove this seems to be your area of expertise. What do you think we should do"?
The big trollkin stills for a moment to see if there is any fey influence, as he glances around the chamber to see if anything else comes to his attention.
Entering the second chamber, the air is even colder than before. The bitter freeze emanates from the swirling blackness of the void gate. The gate itself is easier to see now that Zove has pointed it out and because any torch light starts to slightly bend toward the man-sized swirling black vortex.
Stepping into the chamber to better analyze the phenomenon, Zove immediately feels the bitterness of the cold. She also sees the blacker-than-black tendrils of power swirling around the body pinned by the spear and linked to six points along the oval edges of the gate.
Perhaps more surprising is the pair of eyes that twitch and stare from the body and the brief movement of its lips, although nothing can be heard.
Underneath the threads of void-power, the 'man' appears to be well dressed in a coat of fine red and black padded silk with silver trim. His riding boots are black leather, worn from travel, but well maintained. A ring adorns one finger, but is to obscured by the magic to see clearly.
It is just at this point that another voice echoes in the chamber.
"Ahhhh....Конечно сте го донеле. Добро е, зашто јас морам да го имам остатокот од ... јас?" The voice rasps as if little used and speaks a language that hasn't been heard in Midgard for centuries. It is unclear where the dried ancient voice comes from as it seems to echo all around the chamber.
You think the key to the gate is the power of the spear and whatever magic links it to the body. Perhaps removing the spear will close the gate.
The cheerful gnome follows his companions into the room and shivers.
As he gets further into the room, the arctic cold penetrates his bones. His lips and other body parts turn purples. His shivering becomes uncontrollable. He struggles with his clothes failing to get warm.
His clattering teeth are so loud, the gnome cannot understand the babbling of the 'man.'
Seeing Zove collapse, Trevor moves instinctively into the room to grab her and pull her back.
Cold, but otherwise steady, he pulls her back: "Zove! Zove! Wake up!"
He looks pleadingly to the others for help.