As the group came upon the unlocked (forcibly) back door, Franklin thought through bankruptcy laws and who in fact likely owned this property. Whoever it was wouldn't be happy and would definitely have the law on their side if they decided to press charges, but the accountant decided their cause was righteous and worth the risk. They couldn't allow the goblin and giraffe duo to continue whatever they were about. Plus, the young man trusted the kitsune, perhaps more than he should.
So he stood there uncomfortably, looking around outside in case anyone should happen upon them while Faith inspect the door.
Faith, happy with her negative result on her trap search, lets Franklin open the door (going off your marching order).
What lies beyond is... partially what one would expect.
There are no lights inside. Those who are able to see (Faith, at least) see barebones shelves; since you entered through the back near the loading area, it wasn’t exactly “customer-facing,” and looks a bit more like an empty storage warehouse than a bright and fun place to shop. A few large stickers on the floor bear the Toys “R” Us logo, or Geoffrey’s smiling face. A few boxes remain that were never retrieved—a couple of toy racers from that sci-fi movie that boasts thousands of alien species but all the important characters are inexplicably humans, a barrel full of toy swords of varying sizes, style, and quality (one set even can be filled with water to spray when it makes contact), and the like.
Perhaps a bit more concerning is what everyone gets to hear, as the darkness does not inhibit this: several low, groaning voices. Not speaking so much as... moaning, painfully. It sounds muffled, as if through a wall.
Those with darkvision cannot see what might be making those sounds, but they can see a door on the far side of the room that, presumably, leads to the main section.
"Nobody minds if I shed some light on the issue at hand?" The cleric whispered.
Franklin nodded eagerly at Joe's suggestion. "Sounds like someone's in trouble...please do."
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Brother Joe reaches into his pocket to produce a slightly-bent bottle cap. With cap in one hand, the caydenite whispered words of Celestial, while holding his holy symbol with the other hand. "Mìcàlòz bvr." Then the bottle cap began to radiate a strong light.
Faith gave the Caydentie a Look. "Please tell me that if you ever get a darkness spell it'll be 'Dark Larger'?"
Under the light of the bottle cap, Brother Joe smirked. "Cayden works in mysterious ways. Didn't figure you to be a hyperpolyglot, Faith."
As Joe and Faith discuss linguistics, the light... well, I mean, Joe can see better now, at least!
But whatever's on the other side of the door seems to be reacting; a moment after Joe's light appears, there's a THUD on the door, and then a scratching... and then it starts to alternate, rhythmless, between bumps and scratches.
Franklin's heartrate started to accelerate as they heard the noises behind the door, the young man whispering a quick mantra he had learned at the dojo he had been attending for a short time. He had always considered it just some trash filler that the instructor had given them to take up a portion of the hour lesson, but it did seem to help calm him somewhat.
"Shall we see what's behind door number one?" The accountant didn't feel at all humored by the glib question, but that was the kind of cocky thing that adventurers said before dying horribly kicking some ass.
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"Wgre dkgreixx oixuko uooguid," Faith replied to Brother Joe with a grin. "And a couple more. You'd be amazed what people want tattooed on their ass."
Nodding to Franklin, Faith called up a sword almost as tall as she was and moved to push the door open.
Docta G pulls out his shortsword and says, "Aight then fellas and fellettes, lets see what's gon' happen with whatever foo is tryna merk us."
Faith's fingers close around the handle, and she gives a tug-- and a woman falls to the ground in the doorway.
Looking down at her, in the rays of light pouring off of Joe's bottle cap, you see the back of a facedown woman: blonde, slender, wearing a red camisole and skinny jeans. More concerning, however, is a deep gash just beside the small of her back.
She is moving.
"Cayden!" The cleric exclaims as he kneels down before the bound woman. "It's alright, miss. We're adventurers. Let me take a look at your injuries." The caydenite retrieves his healing pack from his backpack and begins a cursory examination of the injury on her back. "Somebody get her bindings."
"Damn! Not one of the Sacred Organs! Okay!" The cleric rips his waterskin from his pack and quickly washes the gaping wound. "C'mon Cayden. This l;ady has too many summers ahead of her for your Domain. Please don't let me be too late!" Joe pulls out his holy symbol with one hand while touch his patient near the wound.
"Whám Bám óóp Có péáp'ám!"
"That can't be the standard phrasing for that spell, surely?" Faith muttered to herself as she pulled out her phone. "I'm going to call her an ambulance. Even with magic a wound like should be checked out."
This was not nearly as fun as breaking and entering should be.
Joe shoots the diminutive magus a sideways glance. "We both worship chaotic gods, but you demand more orthodoxy in cleric spells phrasing? That being said, good idea on the ambulance."
The caydenite shifts his focus on his patient's response to positive energy.
Franklin reflexively leaned down and stepped forward as the woman fell down in front of the group, putting his hands on her back around the wound and looking up at Joe helplessly. When the Caydenite moved in and started speaking, the accountant moved his hands out of the way, checking to see if there were any restrictive bindings that needed to be removed.
The young man went pale as the seriousness of the situation suddenly caught up with him. Up until now, it had seemed a grand adventure...sure, there had been danger, but mostly excitement. Nothing had really seemed, well, mortal, until this moment. Perhaps he should have brought the lead up earlier, or insisted they move more quickly.
Docta G pulls out his boombox. If something was going down, he wanted to be ready to spit some bars.
A couple of things happen.
The first is that the woman GRABS Joe’s ankle, tilting her head back.
Her eyes are completely unfocused. She lets out a gutteral groan.
As this happens, you see a couple of forms shamble out from behind the nearby shelves—other women, it seems, one with an abdominal wound that the GM is going to spare you the description of; the other has a deep gash right where her heart should be.
The third is that you hear the GM rolling... a lot of dice.
Docta:
Faith-in-the-Rain:
Franklin:
Z1:
Z2:
Z3:
Doc presses play on his boombox and starts rapping, "Docta G back in the house, spittin hella flame, these reanimated freaks are lookin' pretty lame. So whatcha say, brotha J, make these motha 'uckas pay, they gon' regret tryna mess wit us today!"
Joe's good heart betrays him, it seems, as the woman he's been so keen on helping is beyond the salvation of Cayden Cailean. The undead blonde reaches up and tries to smack the Lucky Drunk's champion-in-the-making;
She loses her hold on Joe in the process, and fails to land more than a gentle pap against his leg.
Meanwhile, one of the other zombies approaches...
Round 1
Active Buffs: Blazing Blades (+1d4 Fire Damage)
Docta G
Green Zombie
Red Zombie (Prone)
Faith-in-the-Rain
Blue Zombie
Franklin
Brother Joe
Faith may act!
"That's not a good thing," Faith noted, aiming her sword at the undead woman attacking Joe, her sword frosting over with ice as she channeled a spell through the weapon. If all the zombies were women killed like this then, boy, would there creator have a bad few days.
It doesn’t take a lot of skill to hit Faith’s target, and her blade comes down hard and fast, the wound warping as heat and cold wash freeze and melt the edges.
The dead woman lets out a guttural scream as Faith pulls her blade out of her back; she twitches and falls, more properly dead now.
Meanwhile, the third moves closer, and stands over her fallen sister to take her place.
Round 1
Active Buffs: Blazing Blades (+1d4 Fire Damage)
Docta G
Green Zombie
Red Zombie (Very Dead)
Faith-in-the-Rain
Blue Zombie
Franklin
Brother Joe
Franklin, Joe, and Docta G may act!
Dismayed he was too late to save the woman, Brother Joe closes his eyes and ask Cayden for help in ending their undead existence. Still holding the wooden holy symbol of the Accidental God, Joe blasts the undead with channeled energy.
Franklin recoiled as the woman suddenly reached up and grabbed the Caydenite's ankle, the inhuman moan escaping her lips unsettling. He stammered out, "Wha...?" as Docta G started throwing down some sick beats and Faith ended (again) the life of the blonde at their feet. As he saw the other women start to shamble out, the accountant gulped, looked down at his fiery fist, then snapped it out twice in quick succession at the face of the next woman. He sincerely hoped there were no feminists about.
The zombie in front stumbles under the divine light of Cayden Cailean; that seems to throw Franklin's aim off-- or maybe it's his hesitance to punch an (admittedly quite dead) woman?-- but he seems to get over it, as his second punch hits with a nasty crunch, and she drops like a sack of rotten potatoes.
The Good Docta is up!
"Let's merk these zombies, undead goons, the day of their re-death is comin' real soon! You can try to defeat my crew and me, but you're a flash in the pan and I'm a real OG!"
As he says that, a burst of light erupts around the zombie.
The zombie turns its head to face the rapping gnome just as the spell surges into existence, and given its slowed reflexes, it doesn't recall that it should probably blink.
As such, she takes the full brunt of it, looking shaky as she charges the gnome:
She has no luck, though, and nearly does more damage by accident as her shapely legs knock G a little off-balance; her clumsy swipe with her arm goes well overhead.
Round 2
Active Buffs: Blazing Blades (+1d4 Fire Damage)
Docta G
Green Zombie (Dazzled, 1 minute)
Faith-in-the-Rain
Franklin
Brother Joe
Last Call may act!
"This wasn't what we expected, but no one deserves to be used like this. Let's put them to rest and then get them vengeance." Faith span her spectral sword in a short arc and went after the one that had attacked the good Doctor.
Brother Joe looks down at the rapier at his hip. I beg pardon, Cayden, thought the cleric, but I don't think it's the right weapon for this foe. Oh boi, I hope she's not too.. juicy!
The caydenite flanks the zombie attacking the Good Docta and goes in for a haymaker.
"First you got the flash, now you get the fire, your zombie ass just awoke Docta G's ire!"
Doc swings at the creature, with a blow that while accurate, is truly pitiful, only managing to hurt the beast with the fire from his beats.
Faith’s blade lodged deep across the back of the zombie; while she gives an unholy shriek, Joe steps forward and puts his whole body into a wild swing. It wouldn’t do much... but with Faith’s sword acting as a fulcrum—and G’s hooking behind the knee—the top of the zombie woman tips backward, leaving her legs behind.
The whole mess crumples to the floor.
Combat Resolved!
You’re left with three bodies.
"Is it better to check them for I.D, or let the cops deal with it?" Faith asked, a little uncertainty for once creeping into her voice. She did not want to make things harder for the families here. If she could help it they'd never know their children, sisters, lovers had been raised and used like this.
Brother Joe swallows his vomit back down as he literally punched an undead woman in half. The cleric slowly checked the bodies for i.ds, spare cash, or any possible keys to the store.
Franklin frowned as his attack dropped the woman in front of him to the ground with a smack of finality, feeling a pang of guilt. Guilt gave way to near disgust as the other three managed to separate the bottom half from the top of the third woman. Hanging his head for a moment to collect his thoughts, he looked up as Faith started talking.
"Let's check for ID. Their families deserve to know, little solace that it will be." Of course, Franklin was thinking an anonymous email as opposed to an in-person visit. This wasn't the kind of news he wanted Last Call to be known for.
Getting over himself, he edged forward with Joe, taking a look around for a goblin, a giraffe, or anything else that might be interesting.
Joe rummages through pockets, trying to be respectful in a horrible situation.
The first one they encountered has a small wallet on her, containing an ID, a few small (non-gold) coins, and various cards—Planet Fitness, Berserger King, at least three grocery stores.
Franklin, however, notices something; someone is... breathing, nearby. Hard. Near the limits of Joe’s lighted bottlecap.
Following the others example Faith began checking one of the others for I.D.
Neither of the other two women have personal effects on their persons, as far as Faith or Joe can tell.
Franklin looked up from the grim task of checking the re-corpsified bodies as he noticed a sound nearby. Perhaps it was the adrenaline heightening his senses, but the accountant was sure he could hear someone or something close by. He looked aimlessly at the ground, wondering if he should tell everyone and risk alerting whatever it was, or just play cool and see what developed.
Franklin decided that whatever it was probably was going to start a confrontation anyway, so he got into a ready stance as he said, "There's something over there in the shadows, guys. Let's check it out, but carefully..."
Brother Joe turned to the direction Franklin was indicating, and shone his bottlecap light high.
There’s a few footsteps; you catch a pair of legs, but it quickly disappears into the darkness.
Thankfully, some of you have darkvision.
Those who can see into the dark spot a human man: tall, disheveled, with a heavy build and short, shaggy hair.
He doesn’t seem to realize you can see him; he keeps a ready-to-move stance, in case Joe decides to bring his light further.
Once pointed out, Docta G calls out to the figure, "Ayo! Come on out! Wassup here!"
He gives a disgruntled groan before he steps into the light.
He’s easily six foot three, with a rounded face and scruff beneath his jaw. He wears baggy shorts and a dark T-shirt, and an expression on his face that one might give a Witness of Shelyn that had knocked on one’s door moments before a long-anticipated reveal on TV.
In short, he seems unhappy to see you—or perhaps for you to see him.
”What,” he says flatly.
"How you doin'? You know what's goin' on with these zombie motha 'uckas? Cuz somethin' weird is goin' down, and you're the only lead we got."
He furrows his eyebrows, "By the way, have you seen a goblin ridin' a giraffe?"
Faith didn't speak, not wanting to draw attention to the fact she knew the man, and instead moved a little behind the taller members of the party. She'd have his name in her records at home. You needed I.D to get a tattoo, due to the whole age thing, so she'd have the name that was on it. Now, maybe it was false - the I.D or the name - but the fact that a bunch of people were getting the same tattoo meant one of that would create a lead, if this idiot or his pals were responsible for the zombie women.