Coral overcomes the defenses of her zombie clone and sends it to the floor with two quick strikes.
Stricken with agony, Feena is unable to act due to Valthazar's hex.
With powerful strikes, Vlad takes down Marya's clone.
Lola and Marya combine to finish off the last zombie leaving only Valthazar before you, cackling madly.
"Leave Feena alone! What cowardly sort you are, Valthazar. Hiding behind corpses and picking on girls. You disgust me."
Damian's arrow embeds itself in Valthazar's chest, causing blood to burst from his mouth while he continues to cackle.
Valthazar looks up at Damian and prepares a quip of his own. Before he spits one out however, he takes note of the battle and how quickly his zombies were eradicated and how forceful the party presses in on him. With frustration he growls and swipes his hand hand across his body. Valthazar disappears from sight and his cackling ceases instantly, leaving on the sounds of Feena recovering from her agony and a room full of dead zombie clones of you.
"Did he go invisible, or did he Teleport away? How far could he have gone?"
Coral looks to the spellcasters for advice.
She also listens for any sound of Valthazar, and looks at the floor for any disturbances indicating footsteps.
Damian shakes his head, frustration evident in his face. "I... have no idea. I am not familiar with this kind of magic, I'm afraid."
Turning to Feena, he looks at her with concern. "How do you feel? Do you need any healing?"
He then steps hesitantly into the room previously occupied by Valthazar, looking around at the desk and shelves. "I wonder what he was doing in here. Was he waiting for us?"
Lola shakes her head, and adds gravely, ”I don’t know, sorry. If I were to guess, it was teleportation. Anyone would have fled in that circumstance. Now we know what to expect if we see him again.”
Marya shakes her head. She was too focused on the zombies that she didn’t consider the laughing man would just f*!+ off. ”No bloody idea.”
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With the general consensus it was a teleportation spell but with no real evidence to back it up, the party begins to check their surroundings and make sure Feena was alright. With Valthazar now gone, the pain caused by his hex begins to fade.
Although many of the items around the room belonged to the last deacon, the desk shows the gruesome practices of the room’s current occupant. A small ledger contains his personal notes. In addition, several medical implements, including scalpels, forceps, a small mirror, and a trepanning auger are neatly arranged on the desk, along with a few stained rags Valthazar uses to keep them clean. He hasn’t been as successful in keeping blood out of the rugs.
Valthazar’s journal speculates that the explosion in Roslar’s Coffer was, in fact, orchestrated by the Whispering Way. He has heard rumors of a powerful device or spell called the “Radiant Fire” and he believes that Roslar’s Coffer was merely a test of its power.
Valthazar’s journal also contains a draft of his report to his superior in the Whispering Way, who is only identified as the letter G. Valthazar’s report is a thorough yet dry retelling of the destruction, mutations, and undead around Roslar’s Coffer, and he particularly notes the discovery of your corpses among the ruined buildings. He opines that the undead created from these corpses seem somehow “lacking” when compared to other juju zombies, but he doesn’t have any indication of why this might be the case unless it has something to do with the explosion. It’s clear that Valthazar was still perplexed by this issue, and it’s why he hasn’t been able to finish and send the report yet.
The door to the south leads to the former deacon's bedroom. A wide room that features a simple writing desk, a bed, a nightstand, and several attached wardrobes along the southern wall. The doors of the wardrobes hang open, and several articles of clothing have been pulled out and piled on the floor.
The writing desk holds the previous deacon’s final personal correspondence, which includes a friendly letter to a paladin in Vigil ending with a notation for a chess move. Valthazar has idly scribbled a few alternative, superior chess moves on this letter.
The bedroom has a single door to the west which leads into the deacon's washroom where wooden cabinets line the southern wall of this room, and a vanity with a round mirror and a single chair stands against the northern wall. A fist-sized hole in the wall next to the mirror seems recent. A steel tub, rust beginning to form along its bottom, occupies the center of the room, holding a crumbling skeleton.
Scanning the pages of Valthazar's journal with practiced speed, Damian frowns in confusion. "I don't understand. He seems to be working for, or with, the Whispering Way, but see here..."
His index finger underlines the passage where Valthazar theorizes that the catastrophe in Roslar's Coffer was caused by the same organization.
"Is he not aware of what other parts of this... cult, or organization or whatever it is - what was the saying, 'the let hand knows not what the right hand does'? - is he not aware of what his own people are doing?"
"Basic strategy, Damian. You only tell each agent what they need to execute their part of the plan."
Coral looks in the washroom.
"Might this skeleton be the deacon?"
She looks for any identifying signet ring or badge of office.
"Slain by this Radiant Fire, I would guess. We should give him a proper burial when we have the chance. And contact this paladin in Vigil; I imagine that's where we will want to go."
She also looks closely at the fist-sized hole in the wall, trying to see what caused it (a living fist would leave blood, an undead fist might leave flesh fragments, an object neither) as well as anything that might be in the hole.
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Vlad listens to Damian explain his theories and nods slowly.
"It does seem strange--though perhaps this is the case where the Whispering Way doesn't want their high-level plans leaked by letting too many people know about it. Still..."
He looks with disgust at what appears to be his former corpse and those of his companions.
"It kind of feels like we need to dispose of that. Burn it, or something," he says.
Damian nods at Vlad's suggestion. "It might be the first time anyone has given themselves the last rites." He rubs a hand over his eyes. "Let's finish looking around, then we'll take the bodies to the courtyard and burn them. No one is raising mine again if I can help it."
Lola holds up a hand, ”espere por favor, the - skeleton. Just hold on a moment.” She tries to see if the skeleton is undead, using the knowledge that she has.
Feena felt much better when the hex on her passed and she looked apologetic as she said, "I'm sorry I was unable to continue the fight, I don't know what came over me."
As they explored the rooms and looked over the various things they found, Feena carefully folded up the letter the Deacon had written and put it away in her pack, "I agree that we need to see this paladin, I want to give him this last correspondence as well."
Feena looked then at the skeleton they had found and nodded in agreement, "Yes, let's gather them all together, I will light them with my flames to try and help purify them of the taint left by the desecration of this place. It would be good, I think, to use the chapel area where the alter is, the flames will help to purify that too, at least I hope they will."
The skeleton is not undead, but there is definitely something out of the ordinary going on with it.
Marya, Feena and Lola all study the skeleton and Feena deduces that the skeleton is acting as a translator or conduit of some kind. There is a lingering spell that has been placed on it by someone, likely Valthazar. The spell allows for two-way communication with another recipient. When you speak to the skull, it will be relayed to the recipient and when the recipient speaks it will be relayed through the skeleton.
Coral doesn't know what to make of this revelation.
"Communicating with other members of the Whispering Way, no doubt, but how to tell who or where they are? I suppose we could try to use this grisly necromantic communication ourselves and get the one on the other end to reveal themselves...
We could say that we have disposed of the anomalies and await further instructions...
Would that be worth trying?"
Marya scratches her head and reties her hair back. ”I would try it if one of us—maybe Lola?—could do a good impression. The Whispering Way is insidious and it would be good to know if they have deep cover agents and get clues as to who they are.”
Lola seems a little skeptical about her own skill, but she shrugs, and seems to agree to try at least. She clears her throat.
Her voice, nearly indistinguishable from what it was before, drops two octaves as she affects a distorted, rasping tone, but it sounds a fair amount like Valthazar "those survivors are here, I need aid!" She shrugs, and mouths, I don't know.
Abruptly, with an eerie deliberateness, the skeletal jaw springs to life as it begins its ponderous movement, akin to a non-native speaker laboriously forming each word. An arcane aura envelops the bones, breathing an unnatural semblance of life into the ancient remains. In a voice that resonates as if it belonged to a living entity, the skeleton utters, "As you want, my Lord. When I saw them in the big hallway, I tried to talk to you before, but you didn't talk back. I come now."
The skeleton jaw goes slack again and no further words are heard.
She shakes her head, "Okay, so maybe a monster is coming? Be prepared!" She shakes some gore off of her spear and moves towards the door.
Damian follows closely behind Lola, renewing the blessing on them all as he nocks another arrow and prepares to face whatever was heading their way.
"So it was for communicating with an underling, not a superior?" Or perhaps there were different ways of using the communication... device, but necromantic magic was distasteful to Damian, so he had never bothered learning the specifics.
The team takes their positions, creating a defensive line, ready to engage any threat that might approach through the door. Yet, their preparedness is swiftly shattered as the creature they had been anticipating emerges unexpectedly, not from the door, but from the very wall behind them.
Ethereally passing through the wall, a spectral entity materializes, emitting the foul odor of the grave and dripping with vile, decomposing substances. When the realization that it's not Valthazar in here, but rather your party, its visage contorts into a mask of rage as it readies itself to strike!
Additionally, she may be aware that Festering Spirits are typically immune to many forms of mind-affecting magic, as their connection to the physical world has been severed. However, they can be harmed by positive energy, holy magic, or spells that target undead creatures specifically.
Caught by surprise as well by the creature emerging from behind them, Damian stares at it for a moment, then channels a blast of life energy.
Coral cannot do much, with the sarcophagus in the way, but she knows it will not be an obstacle to the spirit.
So she steps up and readies to strike the spirit if it comes within reach.
Lola makes a reflexive gagging noise, ”mierda, Vete de aquí, bolsa de basura pendejo. Eh, it is … a festering spirit. Incorporeal slime made from rotting corpses. Kill it fast.”
She raises her finger and yet another line of radiant greyish light moves to blast the incorporeal undead.
She also retrieves a holy weapon balm, holding it in her hand aloft for the others to take.
Coral remains resolute, biding her time for a more opportune moment to launch her attack. Lola, in her attempt to harness positive energy against the undead creature, unfortunately, misses her mark, struggling to pinpoint the right location for her assault. Damian's channel of life energy manages to injure the spirit, although it displays some resistance to the damage inflicted.
Vlad, undeterred by the spirit's resilience, swings his scythe at it, causing partial damage. However, the spirit retaliates swiftly. Its putrid, gooey arm lunges out with remarkable speed, slamming into Vlad's chest. In a painful exchange, it not only damages Vlad but also siphons away some of his life force, leaving his chest smeared with the foul-smelling goo.
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Feena knew they would need all the help they could get against this thing and quickly cast a spell to speeding her friends reactions.
"Vlad, make some room!"
In a complicated transference of energy, Damian takes upon himself some of Vlad's pain and reflects it back into another channel aimed at hurting the viscous undead.
Assuming Vlad 5' steps west, Coral steps to where he was and stabs at the undead.
Coral will be touch AC 19 against the spirit, with Haste and Combat Expertise. Not great, but it's something.
Lola continues to blast it with positive energy, though she seems worried at the beating Vlad is taking. She hands the balm to Damian.
Marya fires off a channel of her own, trying to blast the damn spirit back to whichever afterlife it should be in.
Feena casts Haste, weaving her fingers in intricate patterns. Time seemed to stretch and slow as her friends felt an uncanny quickening in their limbs and thoughts.
Vlad, still struggling with the revulsion at the stinking goo on his chest, momentarily felt the Haste spell imbue him with a newfound swiftness. Despite the sickening distraction, he managed to swing his scythe at the vile spirit. The blade didn't carve as deeply as he would've liked, but it made contact, leaving a flickering tear in the spirit's ethereal form.
Coral, seeing an opening, immediately fills the gap Vlad created, lunging with her short sword. She thrust and slashed three times in rapid succession, empowered by Feena's spell. The first stab found its mark, piercing through the incorporeal form, but her subsequent attacks missed, passing through the waning specter.
As Coral fought, Damian's eyes glowed with an ethereal light, and with Sarenrae's assistance taking upon himself some of Vlad's pain, his face briefly contorting in shared agony.
Lola was worried about Vlad's condition, her face etched with concern. Resolved to keep battling, she released another pulse of positive energy, targeting the spirit.
Marya, standing with her holy symbol of Iomedae held aloft, unleashed a powerful channel of her own, her voice echoing with divine authority. Waves of positive energy flooded the room, targeting the spirit. Although it shrieked in pain, the spirit managed to resist some of the damage, its form still semi-cohesive.
Seemingly irate at Coral's audacity, the creature spun to face her. It lunged, and its hand — a twisted, incorporeal mass of goo — struck her squarely, draining some of her life force. As it pulled away, Coral felt a sudden, wrenching weakness flood her body. Like Vlad before her, she was left with a layer of repugnant, otherworldly goo smeared on her chest.
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Lola keeps trying to blast the vile creature but is finding it more difficult.
Coral almost resists, but is overcome with nausea by the slime.
Taking the small pot from Lola, Damian flicks the pot open with his thumb, dipping the tip of an arrow into the fragrant ointment inside. Then he nocks the arrow, draws and looses it in a practiced motion.
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Coral, visibly shaken and nauseous from the spiritual drain she suffered, struggles to regain her composure. She grips her short sword tightly, taking shallow breaths to stave off the urge to vomit. Despite her unsteady condition, she remains steadfast, her eyes never leaving the abominable specter.
Lola, perceiving the moment to be critical, channels her bardic magic into another devastating burst of positive energy and sends a beam of disruptive energy toward the spirit. The arcane force collides with the undead entity, causing it to waver and ripple like a distorted image. It shrieks in ethereal agony but continues to exist in its nightmarish form.
Damian, his eyes radiating with a divine glow, nocks an arrow into his bowstring. He murmurs a brief prayer, seeking her guidance and blessing for what must come next. As he releases the arrow, time seems to slow. The air grows thick with tension, and everyone watches as the projectile arcs toward its target.
The arrow, seemingly guided by Sarenrae's celestial power, bursts into radiant light as it nears the spirit. It impacts with an explosion of divine luminance, akin to a miniature sun appearing within the dim chamber. This wasn't just any arrow; it was a conduit for Sarenrae's divine wrath, a decisive judgment rendered against an abomination.
The festering spirit convulses, emitting a sound that is less a scream and more a dissonance of existential agony. It shudders violently, its form unraveling like threadbare cloth being torn apart. And then, with a final, agonized ripple, it simply ceases to be. The ambient light of the room seems to brighten just a touch as if acknowledging the elimination of a deep darkness.
All that remains is a small pile of the wretched, necrotic goo that had once been a part of the creature. The substance sits there, foul but harmless, a last vestige of the evil they had faced. Coral and Vlad still bear smears of the substance on their chests, an unpleasant reminder of their encounter, yet also a badge of their hard-fought victory.
Marya immediately looks to cleaning off her be-slimed companions. ”I have a lesser restoration prepared, but only one. Coral seems the worst for wear of you, so I’ll give it to her. Unless there are objections. I’ll make sure to pray for extra tomorrow.”
"Thank you, Marya," Coral says weakly as she regains her composure.
"I know it could be worse for me," she indicates the remains of Dead Coral, "but even so I don't feel great. I'd like to rest but with Valthazar still on the loose I imagine he will try to rally whatever forces he has left and come after us."
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Continuing your journey through the Bastion of Light, you exit the washroom, where the unsettling battle with the festering spirit unfolded. Traversing the bedroom and office where the corpses of your undead former selves still lie—grim reminders of your encounter with Valthazar—you finally go eastward through the waiting room. Emerging into the four-way corridor spanning the second floor, a sense of anticipation fills the air.
You proceed southward towards the central intersection of the expansive hall. Dominating the junction is a square marble pillar that rises to a height of three feet. Atop it sits a gemstone of sickly green hue, roughly the size of a human fist. Within its depths, a maelstrom of black mist appears to writhe and swirl, imbuing the stone with an ominous aura. An instinctive understanding washes over you; this is no mere trinket but an object of significant magical potency and grave import.
You recall Feena mentioning earlier that something was obscuring her magical senses, preventing her from discerning anything about the gem. Her words return to you, adding weight to the mysterious artifact before you.
As you stand there, a fragment of information gleaned from Valthazar's journal resurfaces in your mind. He had written about an occult ritual, one designed to create an impenetrable barrier of force. Given Feena's earlier observations, it seems increasingly plausible that Valthazar's arcane rites were focused on shielding this very gem.
As it stands, without further insights from Valthazar or comprehensive research, the ritual and the gem itself remain enigmatic and elusive. It's clear that to unravel the secrets shrouding this mystifying artifact, you'll need to gather additional information, be it through arcane texts, further investigation, or some other means.
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Vlad, newly cleaned from the washroom, feels much better until they come face to face with the pulsing artifact.
Knowing little about magic, he knows enough not to touch something this powerful that he doesn't understand.
"What is it?" he wonders aloud. "Is this the thing responsible for the desolation here? How would we destroy it?"
"I think we need more information. Maybe find more of Valthazar's notes. Let's continue searching.
There are rooms to the southwest we haven't explored."
Damian shakes his head at the evil-looking gem. "It is probably the crux of the ritual maintaining the barrier around Roslar's Coffer, but I could not begin to understand how it works and how to disable it." He nods at Coral. "We should keep searching, I agree."