Isabella takes a few steps further into the room so she can see the shadowy figure, dropping the broom as she goes. A few arcane words later and she's 'carrying' a small ball of acid, which she throws at the creature.
The shadow shifts on the wall and the orb of acid splashes harmlessly against the bare wall.
Torian, knowing that he does not have any means of meaningfully attacking the remaining foe, moves forward toward Dart.
"Lot o' good Eye'm gonna be again't 'hat thing."
unable to help himself, Dart will pick up the sword lying on the ground near him when he can.
The shadow flickers strangely in the soft, floor height illumination from the broom handle and creeps toward Torian, a dark humanoid shadow elongated across the floor. It reaches Torian’s feet and a section of it crawls up his leg and Torian feels his leg weaken. He can barely stand up, his leg is so weak, and the sapping of strength spreads across his whole body. Where previously, Torian bore the weight of carrying his armor with no issue, he strains to hold himself up.
Dart will pick up the blade, look at the shadow creature, give a shrug, and swing at it.
already know my weapons don't work, lets see if this one does.
Dart picks up the blade, he can now see it is a dagger and he can tell it is of good make. He doesn't have time to look it over, he just slashes it across the Shadow, slicing a small section of it off.
Isabella curses as the initial acid splashes harmlessly against the wall. She conjures another ball and again tries to throw it at the creature.
Galin channels energy to negatively effect the shade
Isabella's acid globule strikes the creature burning a small portion of it.
The light from Galin's holy symbol flares in the dim chamber and the shadow flinches and the edges of it begin to dissolve, but the creature still seems hearty.
Feeling the strength leave his body, Torian knows that he will only get one chance to strike the creature with any real force. Calling deep upon the power of Torag and the stones around them, he channels all of that energy into his waraxe. It glows momentarily with the light of the god's might. Taking a swing downward, he attempts to bury the blade through the shadow and into the ground.
Though it is clear that the strike was not as strongly swung as before, it does seem to find its mark.
"Finish i' quickly please. I cannaugh do tha' again."
Torian's strike hits the shadow but it almost seems to ooze away from where it was hit before the strike lands and it isn't fully effective.
The shadow writhes way from the multiple strikes and reaches toward Dart's leg and grasps his flesh. The energy drains out of Dart and he fights to keep going.
"Torian, Dart, get out of there! This is a dead end anyway and we can't fight this thing, let's just go!"
Remembering what had happened last time she called for people to flee, Isabella bites her lip. "Follow me this time, please!"
Then she grabs her broom off the floor and takes off down the hall.
Before running out, Galin focuses his energy on harming undead,
before backing out of the room.
Dart moves around the shadow creature trying to split its focus before shanking it where, on a humanoid, it would have done the most damage.
If you're gonna follow them Torian, then go. I'll be right behind you.
The shadow recoils again from Galin’s blast of holy light and large chunks of it tear off even though it manages to avoid the light to some degree. That coupled with the second slash from Dart has almost beaten it, but it clings to its unlife still.
Torian shakes his head, knowing that he can neither retreat nor meaningfully strike the creature any more.
"Naugh, lassie... naugh knewen' iffen' it 'ill naugh jus' follow us. Go."
Turning to the shade, he moves further into the room and shouts at it.
"Oy, beastee! Come an' ge' me! Eye'm naugh afreid o' ye!"
The shadow, seeing that Torian is ineffective against it now, reaches again for Dart but its dimished form is incapable of catching hold of Dart.
Isabella closes her eyes in defeat as she realizes absolutely no one is following her. Running apparently isn't an option. Which means we have to kill it. That's...that's fine. I can do that.
I hope.
She runs back to the fray, once again dropping her broom in the doorway. The shadow seems a lot smaller than before, so maybe Galin or Dart actually did some damage. That's good.
What's bad is that the smaller form of the shadow combined with her desperation to not hit Dart or Torian would make it almost impossible to aim her orb.
But there is one spell she knows that simply targets an area, and if she positions herself just right it won't hit anyone but the shadow...
She gets in the shadow's face and fire erupts from her hands.
The shadow sticks closer to Dart so the fire can't reach it very effectively, dealing minimal damage.
Dart manages to leap back a step as the shadow swipes for him, only to rush back in immediately after to stab at the creatures chest area.
noticing everyone is back in the fight Galin groans, Well, if someone is going to have to take care of it, might as well be us.
Galin heads back into the room with wavering resolve.
"It just isn't getting hurt very fast guys!"
Aye, but it IS getting hurt!
Dart’s last slash and the light from Galin’s faith finally banish the foul creature. It dissipates into nothing with the flare of light. A quick glance around the room shows no more strangely flickering shadows in the corners. It appears that the room is now safe, for now. The room is pretty bare, but for the blackened walls and the burned out fire in the middle of the room.
As you have a chance to rest, Dart takes a look at the dagger and sees that the blade even with how finely made the blade is, it seems to be sharper than it should. The time in the fire has not damaged it at all. The hold is decorated with winged eye, the wings clearly feathered, the eye clear and knowing.
Torian breaths a sigh of relief as the shade returns to the shadows.
"Fancy weapon ye picked up, laddy. Le' me ta'e ah gander at 'er."
Examining the symbol, Torian lets out a low whistle. "Tha' be Aroden's sign o' th' thing. Naugh 'onder tha' shade did naugh li'e bein' stabbed with 'er." He hands it back to Dart.
"Galin, ye naugh happen'ta know a way t' restore strength would ye? Me armor be a might bit heavier than 'ormal."
Isabella stands there panting, last of the fire still sparking from her fingertips. We did it. It's dead. A wave of relief rushes over her...followed quickly by one of anger.
She walks over to Torian, looks him in the eye, and slaps him across the face.
(Relatively gently; she doesn't put what little strength she has behind the blow. But hard enough to make her point.)
"You couldn't hurt it so you thought you might as well play bait for the monster that was draining the strength out of you?! What if Galin can't fix that?! What were you thinking?!"
Tears beginning to stream down her face, she fixes her gaze on Dart as well. "Both of you! Sure, we finally killed it. Good for us. What about the next one? What if you two are permanently hurt and we can't fix it? What then? The things in this crypt killed everyone that came here before us. Including the person who owned that fancy dagger. Maybe because they didn't just run away when they had the chance!"
"And before you say 'We didn't know if it would follow us,' what kind of excuse is that?! If it had followed us, we wouldn't have been any worse off. We could have just fought it in the next room. And if it hadn't, we could have regrouped. Figured out a plan. Done something better than me trying to chip away at it with a stupid little cantrip I couldn't even aim properly because you two were in the way!" She closes her eyes and wraps her arms around herself. For a moment, she just breathes.
Quieter, but still clearly upset, she finally looks at Torian again. "We can't keep doing this. We've gotten lucky so far, but how long can that last? Next time we run into an enemy we're not sure how to fight, if it's at all possible we retreat. Even if all that does is buy us a minute to figure out a plan. Because if we don't, we're all going to die here. Just like everyone else. And then...and then who will rescue Dimira? Or get to the bottom of what's happened here?"
"Just...just please take things slower. More carefully." She swallows hard. "So many people have already died here. Don't...don't join them. Please."
Somberly in the wake of Isabella’s urging “My apologies Torian, that is outside of my current ability. I wish I could mend you and Dart both. Some rest may do you good, but it will take time to recover fully.”
Galin considers, “I wonder if there was a person in her last night. We were not attacked by either of those creatures last night when we put our the fire. Or perhaps they roamed here in the night. Poor souls”
Torian takes the reprimand from Isabella wordlessly.
"Lass... why d' ye thin' we dwarven from Clan Marcath kee' comin' t' participa'e in yer ceremonie? T' honor our debt t' Kess'n fer wha' 'e did fer us. Naugh jus' b' honor'n th' dead... but makin' sure 'is township's decedents be safe." Despite his weakened state, he draws himself to his full height.... and despite not being anywhere near as tall as the sorceress, he almost seems to be meeting her eye to eye.
"Iffen i' come t' it, Eye'm expecten t' be tha' shield tha' lets you lot t' get away, even iffen Eye'm ah knewing it be me death." His face softens a bit as he adds, "'sides, so'e ah ye need t' get Roldaire ho'e."
The smile falls a bit at Galin's response, but he merely nods. "Eye'm naugh sure we ha'e th' time t' rest up more. But ye migh' only be partially righ' about these lot. Shades usually be a guarden' things. Places... 'r things too. The boomen' o'e though... tha' be possible."
Dart gives a small, understanding grin at isabella after she finishes. He rests a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, but finds that despite himself he gives her a, slightly, shakey hug instead. Shortly after, he comes to his senses and lets go. And speaks.
Heh, sorry, adrenaline and uh, fear I guess... but that's the very reason I put myself at risk. And likely our stout as stone boulder here to. Maybe you're right, no, you are. I do often put myself in dangerous positions, and maybe a little of that is because somewhere, I enjoy that thrill. But by the large, I do it so others don't need to, and to protect what I care about. We had no idea how fast that thing was, and I couldn't leave anyone, especially Torian or Galin, who are not able to move as quickly as I, to try and outrun it. he pauses a bit, decides to not dig that any deeper before continuing down another Avenue.
Sometimes retreating isn't a good option, sometimes it is. Either way, I don't intend on letting anyone else die down here if I can help it. That's why I'm always gonna be the last one to leave, dwarven stubbornness be damned. he gives a half cocked grin to Torian. Before continuing, his sober mood changing as he tries to lighten the hanging shadows, an almost genuine smile comes across his face.
You're a great voice of reason, so don't worry, I've just received an order to not die. And I don't intend to break an order, especially that one, any time soon. as the adrenaline completely fades, he begins to truly feel the ache and fatigue of his muscles. He stretches and tries to relieve some of the aches.
though, I can't promise I won't bend it. Man I haven't felt this sore since I had that three week long flu. Okay, next time, we'll do it your way. Even if I have to drag Torian out by his beard. this time he does place a comforting hand on her shoulder.
besides, I've always got lady luck on my side. Now lets rescue a damsel in distress eh?... carefully.
Isabella accepts the hug. ”Thanks, Dart.” She manages a shaky smile. ”I think I needed that.”
“Torian, I understand how you feel about your responsibilities as a representative of Clan Marcath,” (she actually didn’t, but could at least understand that it was important to him, ”but...that doesn’t mean you’re expendable. You’re part of the group. You can get Roldare out of here just as easily as we can. If nothing else, know that Dart won’t leave until you do, if there’s a situation we have to run from. And he has a point, he is faster, which puts him in a better position to be the rear guard. So...please keep that in mind?”
She spends a minute scrubbing at her face with her shirt sleeve. ”Okay. So it’s possible that Roldare wasn’t the only survivor, and that this...person...died last night. That’s...” terrible, it means we could have saved him, if we’d only been faster, ”...good to know. Or maybe we just didn’t go far enough into the room to attract its attention. Either way, let’s keep going.” She winces. ”Unfortunately I think Torian’s right about not having time to rest. We’ll just have to be careful.”
Cautiously, Galin ventures to say, "agreed, lets proceed, but with a little more caution this time, than last, maybe we can wait back a little bit while Dart looks in quietly, and worst case scenario, if Dart leads foes back to us, we will stand ready to face them rather than meeting them in their own prepared place."
"There were some stairs in the previous room, weren't there? Let's head back and check those out."
Assuming no objections, Isabella will go back to the previous room.
Torian shakes his head. "Naugh, lassie, Eye'm thinken ye donaugh understand. Withou' th' actions o' Kassen, there would naugh be a Clan Marcath t'day. An' he died t' protect us. 'nd you lot, too, t' be fair." He smiles as he follows her toward the stairs, keeping an eye on the stonework to make sure they don't inadvertently stumble into a trap or miss a hidden door as they move.
"So when Eye'm a sayin' we be ownen' yer folk a debt o' blood, Eye'm naugh jus' waxin' poetic like. 'nd iffen someone got t' face th' Bone Court 'efore this trial be done, it be me tha' be facen 'er Lady o' Bones. Naugh you, naugh Dart, naugh Galin. Iffen Eye'm able t' say tha' to the judge o' souls, Eye'm sure Eye'll be welcome in the home o' me fore-bearers. Naugh shame in that, lassy."
Isabella stares at Torian for a moment. He's talking about possibly dying for us. How can he be so calm?
"You're right, I don't understand. What Kassen did was centuries ago. I don't understand how your entire Clan can still feel like they owe our town anything. Sending a representative for a quest that's supposed to be symbolic is one thing. This..." she vaguely gestures in a way that's supposed to encompass the entire crypt, "...is something else. You've explained how you feel and why, but that sort of legacy isn't something I can grasp."
Her face is serious. "I don't have to understand, but I do need to know. If we get in over our heads and someone calls for a retreat, will you go? Because twice now I've started running and no one followed. Maybe that's because I'm just too much of a coward or a pessimist or...I don't know. But I don't want there to be a third time."
"Maybe we should designate someone in advance to be the final arbiter of whether or not we retreat." One corner of her mouth turns up in a self-deprecating smile. "Probably not me. Maybe Galin if he's willing; he's a healer, he should have the best idea of what we can and can't survive. You can fall back defensively, you can even be last, but you have to promise that if a retreat is called for you'll go. And if you can't promise that, that's okay, but it's something we need to know."
Because I might be a coward, but I have no intention of ever leaving anyone behind. 'Blood debt' or no.
Torian just shrugs as they plod along the tomb's corridors.
"First off, lassy, yer naught a coward. Ah coward would o' run 'nd naught turned back, o'ers followen' 'er or naugh. Ye just be a lass tha' be sligh'ly in o'er 'er head, face'n evil th' li'e o' which 're normally reserved fer stories used t' keep unruly children in line. Yer reaction t' run be normal 'nd sane."
He gives her a warm enough smile.
"As fer me ... 'withdrawen'... Eye'm naugh agains' it agains' foe tha' will naugh chase. Bu' th' undead be differ'n. They d'naught tire, they d'naught accept surrender, an' they d' naught stop comin'. Iffen i' comes t' it, th' only sure fire way t' preven' their onslaugh' be t' givem somethin' t' focus their wrath on." He shrugs. "Eye'm th' mos' capable o' taken their hits 'nd surviven' long enough to withdraw, slow pace er naught." He seems to think for a moment.
"So, eye'ma maken ye a deal, lassy. Iffen ye wanna withdraw, d' so smartly. 'ou lot go back, prepare t' unleash hell on'em. Eye'll give ye the time t' set up, 'nd then lead'em into yer trap. Ye say how long, Eye'll star' counten' outloud so ye can hear me. Deal?"
I think that's the best I'm going to get.
Isabella nods solemnly. "Deal." She turns her attention back to the stairs. "Does anyone see anything up there?" She tries to look herself, although it's hard for her to see anything in the darkness ahead.
"My vote is that no one dies... I have no idea where you guys come by it, but I appreciate your bravery."
Galin considers, "I would be okay with whatever determination is made, but having someone designated to call a retreat makes sense to me, Isabella. I think you should plan to follow fairly soon, but as long as we know to make that call in the moment, I think we can do that Torian."
Galin leans on the flagstaff and says, "so. are we going to stop for the day?" Too much to hope, this place is scary, but I don't know who else would be close enough to do anything to help.
Dart takes the time while Torian and Isabella are distracted to sneak ahead and check for any surprises sense he can see fine in the dark without a light.
The stairs go up for a few feet and strangely, go back down not 5 feet later. You seem to have risen 10-15 feet and then gone back down to the same level. The strange hallway has sconces at the top of the stairs and minor cobwebs but otherwise, all you see is the plain but well crafted stonework that has been ubiquitous in the tomb so far. The hallway opens up into a wide room about 30 feet square. The north side of the room is remarkably bare. The south end of the room is several feet lower with 2 sets of stairs, one on either side of the space, leading down. The most remarkable thing Dart sees, poking his head around the corner briefly, is a tall statue on a raised dias on the south side of the room. Standing 10 feet tall, with simple humanoid features, it appears to be made of wood and it carries 2 large tower shields, one in each hand. The shields have writing on them but it is a little hard to read from this distance. The far corner on the other side of the statue is to far for Dart to make out but there is a doorway to the north.
Torian, engaged with Isabella and Galin, fails to notice as Dart creeps off ahead of them.
"Naugh, laddie, iffen tha' Roldaire fella be correct, 'e might naugh ha'e much time t' rescua 'is friend." His smile covers the grim thought that he keeps unspoken. Assumin' she be alive still tha' is.
"All Eye'be needen fer a signal will be a number. Eye'll be counten down from it delayen'. When Ah reach 'zero', eye'll leadem' back t' ye fer ye to hit with magic er somesuch."