”Gah!” Varryk exclaims. ”What the hell is that thing?!”
His words, however, may be lost in the rush of sound that follows after. Caught off-guard, he does not pull his horn bow carefully; he draws the string back as far as he can and lets fly.
The arrow carves through the air audibly, as the displaced oxygen rushes back to fill the area that the projectile has passed through.
Though Feena and Damian both miss, Vlad and Varryk are able to both able to land solid attacks that stops the caterpillar before it could cause any damage. The oversized vermin collapses on the stairwell, a thick green ooze draining from its body all over the steps up.
Marya sheathes her sword as she approaches Raj and holds up a hand towards him.
”I can heal you, but I’ll have to touch you. That okay?”
Marya folds her arms and scowls. ”I can only do that one more time until tomorrow. I feel like we should all stop stomping off and pouting—yes I am includinng myself in that.”
Rajuna examines the pulped caterpillar skull and arrow-perforated brain, letting out a quiet but approving whistle. "Fine work, gentlemen. Fine work."
"I can heal you, but I’ll have to touch you. That okay?"
He finds the question odd but shrugs it off. "Sure, go ahead." He nods his thanks when the pain in his gut abates.
"I feel like we should all stop stomping off and pouting—yes I am including myself in that."
Now we get down to it. He considers and discards a few responses due to their devisiveness.
Like an old cloak, he sheds the folksiness of his normal patter. "A good leader listens to their people and then makes an informed decision. If you want me to restrain my initiative, you'll need to demonstrate you listen to your team and give some weight to their opinions."
Marya focuses on controlling her breathing. She doesn’t want to overreact. ”Regardless of who is in charge, we need to talk if we are going to survive. We need to stop making rash choices, all of us.” She pauses and taps a gauntlet’d finger against her chest, making it clear she’s talking about herself as much as anyone.
She pulls off her gauntlet and holds out her hand for a shake, looking Raj in the eyes.
”We don’t have room for ego. I don’t care if you like me. I’m pretty unlikeable. But this is a s$$#ty situation and we need to work together.”
Raj considers briefly. On balance, it wasn't a bad result. He nods and shakes her hand. "Fair enough. For the annals... I don't dislike you or anyone else here. At worst, I've been irritated a time or two and part of that is my deep-seated dislike of the unknowns. Unknowns kill."
"Now, I'd like to take a look at those odd corners in case there's a hidden door. What's the plan for the mite?"
Rajuna searches the odd corners carefully, looking for secret entrances or hidden stashes. After a couple of minutes of thorough searching however, he comes away without any new revelations.
Marya reveals a genuine smile for once as she replaces her gauntlet. "Glad we got that settled. I don't dislike you either, and I guarantee you that the person I like least here is myself."
She absent-mindedly refreshes her light cantrip on her holy symbol. "Now, as I was trying to say, now we have a statue we can talk to, something that can perhaps give us the full story. I say we follow it back down and keep asking questions."
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Vlad raises an eyebrow at Marya. "Who's stomping off and pouting?" he asks, truly not knowing what she is referring to.
"I think we're dealing with this pretty well, given the great tests before us. We just need to go up these stairs and to the east and we will find the exit. But what is this psychopomp thing you're talking about? I've not so much as heard of it before."
Hilde exhales, trying to release some tension, before she begins. "'Preside over the flow of life' is about as much of a euphemism as one can come up with. Yes, they are sometimes involved in births and resurrections, but they are involved primarily in one thing: death. Think of death as a big bureaucracy with Pharasma at the top. Psychopomps are the clerks, the gophers, team leads, public representatives, and whatever other position you can come up with. And--as appropriate for bureaucrats--they are dispassionate at best and willfully uncaring at worst."
Marya folds her arms. "And bureaucrats don't get involved unless they have to. That they are here means some serious s#&& is going on. Or that we aren't where we think we are."
Feena was relieved to see the worm thing die and even more so that the near explosion of hostilities in their little group was averted. When Marya said that she wanted to go follow the construct and speak to it some more Feena said, "I don't think that is a good idea. Something melted the other one and I don’t think we can stand up to whatever it was. I also don't think that it knows anymore than it has already told us. Likely it was only told what it needed to know to do it's job and nothing more." Feena shook her head, "No, we would be better off getting out of here and seeing what has happened to the town. If we do maybe we will get lucky and run into something that will be able to answer our questions."
"At this point, I'm very much with Feena. My parents are back there, and I'm worried about them... and this place is... not good for me."
Varryk follows Vlad and Raj.
As much as he respects Marya's desire to learn more, his concern for the townspeople overrides any curiosity he might have about their strange situation and Roslar's tomb. With an apologetic smile, Damian moves to follow Vlad, Raj and the others as they head towards the exit.
Marya sighs, smiles, and shrugs. "Guess it's decided, then." She follows after the others, her sword back in-hand.
Raj listens to the opinions, making no comment. With Marya going with the consensus, he doesn't need to add his voice to the debate. Instead he addresses the one loose thread, slipping unconsciously into his 'regular' voice. "Before we go, we need to deal with the mite. I'm for killin' it." He raises a staying hand so he can finish his thought. "All other things being equal, I'd leave it to the Celedon BUT the most dangerous thing we've seen here - by far - is that gem. And the mite knows about it. Now maybe he isn't strong enough or smart enough to break it, but troublemakers like that have friends... like the ones that maybe organized this 'assault' in the first place. If the best a hero like Roslar and his knights could do was bottle that wraith up - imagine what happens to the town if it gets free? I'm from Ustalav; I know what the dead can do. If you care about this town, the mite is too great a risk."
"Some of you good folks got a nose for honor. I respect that. So, if you've got a problem with putting the mite down, there's an alternative. We wake the little bugger up, give him a blade, and he and I dance hand-to-hand. If he wins, he goes free. Or if Vlad wants to fight'im, that works too. Frankly, I think the mite would have a better chance against me."
Marya nods to herself as Raj talks, though her face scrunches over to one side when he mentions some kind of trial by combat thing. "I'm also from Ustalav. Vauntil in Caliphas county, to be exact. I've also seen what the dead can do, and I've also seen what people can do when they have the dead as an excuse."
She goes and picks up the little blue creature, holding him by the rope around him. "Like I said, I'm not using healing to bring him back up, so he's going to be healing the slow way, conscious in a day at the absolute earliest and back to full fighting ability in who knows how long. I say we turn him over to whoever is in charge up above. The lawful local authority can decide what to do with him. Hells, we run into these psychopomps the celedon was talking about, we turn him over to them. Might help put us on the right foot and they might be able to get more info out of him."
Raj shrugs off the moralizing, "As long as he doesn't go free and can't make trouble while I'm sneakin' and peekin', that works." He wipes his hands on his pants, "We ready to go?"
Raj passes to the head of the line at the base of the stairs, ready to resume his scouting duties. He skirts the caterpillar's remains carefully, wary of the spines. Before starting up the stairs, he turns to the team. "Try not to get your hopes up that we're at the exit yet. The Celedon said head East and these stairs are on the West side of the room. There might be a whole 'nother level to navigate."
With that, he pads softly up the stairs, dagger ready.
This long room has a single bench against the eastern wall. Several plates of gleaming metal hang from wires in the ceiling, like barding in the shape of a fearsome metal bull. The plates twist like wind chimes, creating a dull clanking. Stairs lead steeply downward to the west, and a single door stands in the southern wall.
"'Hope' is not precisely a word I'd ascribe to our current circumstances," Varryk muttered. Still, he pressed on, following fifteen feet behind Rajuna.
"You all as jumpy as I am right now?"
Varryk didn't really know what he was saying... he just felt like he needed to say something to quell his own unspoken fears.
Raj glances suspiciously at the bull and sword but touches neither one. Instead, he inspects the door while trying to recall if one of the murals and plaques downstairs featured a bull and sword.
Raj regards the half-orc briefly at his question. "Wouldn't say I feel 'jumpy', but I'm nowhere near relaxed... an' this bull wind-chime ain't helpin' none. Miss Feena, would'ya look for dweomers in here, please?"
Marya stretches, forgetting momentarily that she is still carrying the mite. She pauses and takes off her backpack and puts the mite inside, his head sticking out, making sure that nothing is poking or jabbing him.
”I don’t really get jumpy. My completely healthy coping method for dealing with bad s*~% is to just check out. I’ll think about what I want for dinner, a woman’s back muscles flexing, horrible unmanageable trauma...you know, the usual.”
She laughs, only a little touch of bitterness tinging her otherwise mirthful demeanor. She puts her backpack on again and rotates her shoulders to loosen them up. ”If you’re afraid, Iomedae gave me something to take care of that. Ease it a little. Can use it on you now and it’ll last about an hour—or until something spooks you—or save it until you’re already freaking out. Tends to last longer if I do it ahead of time. Either way, I have to touch you, just letting you know.”
Bolstering Touch (Sp): You can touch a willing creature as a standard action, bracing it against frightening situations and allowing it to remain calm. The first fear effect that would affect the subject within the next hour is suppressed for the first 1d4 rounds of its effect. If you touch a creature currently suffering from an ongoing fear effect, this ability instead suppresses the ongoing fear effect for 1 round. The rounds during which the subject ignores the triggering fear effect still count against the effect’s duration. If the fear effect is suppressed for longer than it lasts, the subject isn’t affected by the fear effect at all. You can use this ability a number of times per day equal to 3 + your Wisdom modifier.
As they entered the room at the top of the stairs Ema looked around as requested once the all clear was given for traps. After her spell was cast her eyes took on a flickering light like fire dancing as she examined the room for magical auras.
Damian smiles at Marya. "I'm sure everything will work out fine, and with no horrible unmanageable trauma for anyone. We have done really well so far, we'll get out of here soon and all will be alright."
Varryk smiles shakily at Mayra.
"I'll likely have to take you up on that offer... but I can keep it together for now.
This is just all too... familiar. I don't like feeling trapped, here, with the dead."
Varryk sighs at Damian's words.
"I've already had enough horrible trauma for this life, thanks. I'd prefer to make it out of here without adding to that particular list."
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Marya pulls out her annotated copy of The Acts of Iomedae and flips to the section of supplemental texts, landing on St. Jordania's essay titled "Of Death and Burial in Her Holy Church." She scans for the appropriate passage, lets out an "Aha!" then looks up with a gleeful grin.
"Now, this may surprise you, but I just rememberd something about Iomedaean burials: you never bury someone with a perfectly good weapon. Iomedae is firmly of the belief that all weapons are better off used than left to rust. Why this pragmatic impulse doesn't extend to armor is beyond me, perhaps swords are more on-brand for Her, but there it is." She holds up the tome for anyone to look at if they so desire.
She then closes it with a hearty thump and returns it to the chain on her belt. She begins gushing at breakneck speed in a way no one here has seen yet. She actually seems...excited? By theology? "With this in mind, we are actually in the clear with the mace, too. We would be good with Pharasma as well, as while Her faith has stricter interpretations on the Doctrine of Proper Disposition, She defers to the practices of the decedant's faith and local culture, as long as they do not exceed the Doctrine of Flagrand Disregard, which really only comes up in-practice with evil religions that encourage undeath, descration, necrophagia, necrophilia, etc..., and we clearly don't have to worry about any of those." She pumps her fist as if she just won a debate, and in-fact how she did when she won debates in seminary. She takes a moment to breathe, then grimaces as she realizes she probably overdid it. "Sorry about that. It's just...anyways, the point is that I'm sorry I didn't remember that bit before. Guess I was more spooked than I cared to admit."
Damian blinks, unable to follow Marya's rapid-fire lecture. "The sword... is broken?" is the sum of what he understands from it all. He turns to look at the blade that Vlad is holding. It doesn't seem broken.
Rajuna remembers seeing a mural in the other room about Roslar slaying some strange looking bull creature with a sword that looked similar to the one Vlad just pulled from the stone. It's highly probably that this is that sword.
Marya laughs. ”Nah, that’s the point! It shouldn’t be here if it’s in perfectly good condition, as far as Iomedae is concerned, and it’s in perfectly good condition, so we should take it.”
Since yanking the sword free seems to have had no adverse results, Rajuna turns his attention back the door, saying in an off-hand manner. "I think there was a mural downstairs showin' Roslar killin' some bull-like beastie with that pigsticker."
Raj opens the door and looks to see what lays beyond it.
The scarred Varisian gives him a wry smile. "Not me. I'm a lover, not a fighter."
Marya sheathes her own longsword and holds out her hand to take up the sword. "I'm both, so I'll take it."
Declaring the path clear, Rajuna leads the party through the door to the south.
The walls of this wide room are covered with murals depicting a man performing a variety of heroic tasks: driving a sword into a fearsome metallic bull, defending a village from a scowling spectre, delivering an impassioned speech to several knights, and so on. Many of the murals are you familiar with from other rooms of the tomb so far.
The man has a large mustache and flowing hair, and wears a breastplate adorned with the symbol of a winged rapier. The western end of this room contains an enormous statue of the man atop a rearing horse, carrying a lance in one hand and a shield in the other. Hallways exit this room to the north and south; both immediately bend to the east. Doors stand in the north and south walls.
A simple bowl for offerings still contains a few gifts: 87 gp (mostly in silver and copper coins), two scrolls, and an ancient jar of preserves.
As the group files in the statue of Roslar dips its lance and raises his shield, while Abdell gives a faint, ghostly whinny.
Raj watches the statue closely. "I'm not in favor of borrowing the gifts on that table... But I wonder if those scrolls are good wishes or somethin' that could be useful." He shakes his head at the two eastern paths. "They don' make it easy, do they?"
"A'right. Looks like we got a decision ta make. Are we headin' for the exit right now OR are you folks willin' to do a little more good here first? We could look around and make sure no more of those bugs or blues are lurking nearby. I'd rest easier knowing that gem ain't goin' nowhere."
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Vlad frowns at their options. "I worry that a clue as to our fate may remain within these walls. If we leave now, we may never discover it. I'm with you," he says.
This one is street-wise and I usually agree with him--a helpful ally, no doubt.
"As for the items--perhaps the scrolls are useful for escape, or contain a pass-phrase. We should see if they do anything."
Vlad walks over to the offerings and removes the scrolls.
A small, dry font juts from the south wall of this room, in the center of a mural depicting the interior of a chapel. On the west wall hangs a large square mirror with an ornate gold frame.
"Though this place gnaws at me, I agree; I would not leave this place unexplored. Who knows what evil may follow after us?"
While the team debates their choice, Raj takes a quick peek through the southern door. He says, "Got a mural of a chapel, a dried up fountain, and a big mirror in a gold frame... I really don't get this place."
Satisfied that the 'mirror' room is secure, Raj takes the opportunity to sneak a peek in the first of the two east corridors. He cat-foots over.
Damian would like nothing more than to get out of here already; if they wanted to figure things out about this place, they could always return, no? He didn't understand why Vlad and the others spoke as if this was their last chance to get answers. But if it was answers they wanted...
"I'll help you look, it will go faster."
Impatient, he heads towards the closest door, opening it and holding his lamp up.
Rajuna and Damian both move to the two eastern exits, Rajuna to the north and Damian to the south. They both observe that their respective corridor travels 25' east before turn 90 degrees inwards towards each other. Both men pick up the sounds of hushed whispers of two creatures conversing ahead, though the details of the conversation elude them.
After falling back and comparing observations with Damian and the team, Rajuna tentatively concludes that both exits must join up ahead... which gives the team an opportunity for a two-pronged approach to surprise the 'whisperers'.
He concludes, "Wanna approach these fellas from two fronts? Less chance of us getting log-jammed in these narrow corridors."
Vlad receives a grin from Raj, "You been readin' my diary? Agreed." The rogue, and anyone else who follows along the northern path, heads off.
Marya casts her cantrip as she looks over the scrolls. "Flanking is good by me."
Vlad uses Marya's light and the pair move up to the southern corridor and round the corner. Ahead of them is a grand metallic double door that stands in the east wall of this chamber, while hallways exit to the north and south. A statue of a proud knight with flowing hair and a large mustache stands in an alcove in the west wall, atop a short pillar bearing a metal plaque.
Two celedons stand along the western wall conversing in hushed whispers. When Vlad moves into sight, he sees a sign of panic and fear on their faces. They both draw their longswords and shouts "Begone vile intruder!"
Raj puts his blade away and walks slowly into the room with his hands up.
"पकड़ो, अभिभावकों! हमारे बीच एक पालदीन है। हमने नीचे के स्तर पर आपके तीसरे नंबर के साथ बात की और आपके कई दुश्मनों को मार गिराया। हम केवल शांति से इस क्रिप्ट को छोड़ना चाहते हैं।"