Shakur begins awkwardly going through his routine for treating a wound, and by habit (and certainly not because it was needed) uses an anesthetic on the old woman’s body, and the moment that he does the trail of blood rapidly begins going backwards toward the woman. And in the blink of an eye the blood reverses back into the woman’s body, and the last sight the amnesiacs see is the woman’s chest reforming as chunks of flesh fly from the walls toward her chest, as if they were watching the woman’s heart exploding in reverse.
The amnesiacs stand in the room, the body of an old woman before them and not a drop of blood in sight.
Boodiddly dodges one of the chunks of flesh and picks his jaw up off the floor. "Wow, Shakur! That was amazing!" He glances at the woman, his expression now hesitant. "Is she... dead?"
I mean, I think I'd rather be dead than go through all that. But we've certainly seen stranger things here - and probably stranger still to come...
Urzok steps back to the wall and collapses to the floor. Resting his head against the wall, he breathes heavily for a while. Damn this place sucks.
Through barely open eyes, he sees Oreb play his disturbing little game. "Human, that bird of yours is my kind of bird," he chuckles weakly.
"For real? You stitched her shattered heart back together? I'll be damned. There a pulse?" he asks Shakur.
"No. Not at all. She's very, very dead."
”Urzok!” Boodiddly cries out in alarm as his green-skinned companion slumps against the wall. ”That’s... that’s your blood, isn’t it!? I don’t... well, I could maybe help a little, but you can’t go on in that condition!” He turns to Shakur and Jevar, eyes pleading. ”He’ll die if we press onward without medical attention!”
Oh! There's so much blood about I could hardly tell. Sorry Urzok. Here... take this..
He fishes around in his pack and hands a MODERATE healing poition to the half-orc. He pulls out an additional pouch, but the offer isn't as serious.
I have some opium too if the pain from your injuries is too great.
"I've had enough for today. I'm covered in a massive amount of old-lady blood, out of the ability to heal you all, and the half-orc is literally in the process of dying. I say we go back to to chapel and call it a day."
"Urzok, would you like me to treat your wounds, first?"
Urzok stares at the floor as he suddenly becomes the center of attention, but the compassion of his allies does soften him a bit. "I, uh, I've got my own one of those, but thanks. Opium though, I'll take a hit if you'll spare it," he responds seriously to Jevar's offer.
"Suppose it is, Gnome. No use dwelling on what's been lost though, this should help a bit though," he says as he fishes his potion out and throws it back. "Damn, that's some good s@*!..." Sighing deeply, he rests his head back against the wall.
"That'll get me moving. I'm ok with heading back for the day. I don't want to stay here longer than anyone else, but I sure as hell ain't dying in this pit." Standing back up, he makes sure his equipment is in place before waiting to move out.
________
The amnesiacs backtrack to the chapel and find Winter assisting another survivor cooking a stew. When she sees the amnesiacs she stands up and moves towards them.
”Pharasma bless! Have you learned anything that will assist our escape?”
Jevar shrugs his shoulders and pulls out both doses, handing them to Urzok.
Opium, coming up! See what these do for your combat...vigor.
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The little raven gets a concerned look on her face.
You're doing this for science, right?
Back at the chapple, Jevar admits to Winter that they aren't yet much further than the last time they saw her.
Truth be told, we're mostly back to rest up and continue. It seems there is nasty business to contend with around every corner in this place. We did find some interesting patient records...
Jevar gives her a short summary of the records they all found on themselves, how they were all admitted the same day, and some of the more interesting notes made by their attending doctors.
He ends with Apparently they questioned my mental state over my speaking with Oreb. To be fair, she only recently began talking back, but I knew she had it in her.
”Shakur also stitched an old woman’s broken heart back together!” Boodiddly adds. ”Well, more like exploded heart.”
A number of the survivors glance in the amnesiacs' direction. Winter quickly responds "Kidding! They're kidding! Please tell me you're kidding."
Noticing the amnesiacs' condition the woman glances up at the imposing statue of the Lady of Graves for a moment.
"I believe it has been about a day since your last rest. Come, I will cleanse your minds as best I can."
Winter shakes her head. "I am afraid that is all I can give for the moment. We still have some time before we must rest. My gnomish friend, the others have been begging for more of your stew. And you, Urzok, look absolutely battered—come and sit and I will attend to your wounds. My fellow follower of the Survivor, could you help the two guards by the statue of Pharasma? They had a nasty run-in with a ghoul. We’re also running a bit low on firewood and kindling—there’s a locked cabinet in the room next to the smaller shrine of Pharasma that likely contains a number of old documents that we could use for kindling; I’m sure the attendants won’t be needing them anytime soon.”
Boodiddly grins as Winter relays the group’s request. ”It would be my pleasure!” he replies, getting to work right away.
As he cuts some dried root vegetables and dumps them in the water to reconstitute, the gnome’s thoughts keep wandering back to the locked cabinet. Old documents... what else could we learn from them? Eventually, the allure of mystery is too strong for him to resist. Putting a broken piece of chair over the dented pot, the gnome banks the coals underneath and scurries over to the small chapel. I’m sure I’ll hear if it starts to boil over, he rationalizes with himself. And it’s just carrots and whatever that yellow stuff is. Was. Used to be. Whatever! Excitement in his eyes, Boodiddly pulls out his picks and gets to work.
Urzok grunts in response to Winter's attempt at calming the survivors and spreads his arms a little while facing her. I'm literally soaked the the b#$%*'s blood. Soaked. But sure, totally kidding, anything for the fragile stability of this place.
His face twists though when she offers to care for his wounds. Guess I can't be too bitter about that... He grumbles a little, but otherwise silently takes a seat. During the entire session, he says nothing beyond a simple "Thanks." when she finishes.
________
"I would be honored to help, ma'am. So long as you continue to find us a place to no kidding here sleep! Today was...a thing."
Shakur just walks over to the guards, bandages at the ready.
Jevar thanks Winter kindly for the sanity repair.
Exploring this place is really wearing on our minds. If you all weren't running low on supplies, I'd want to rest additional days and let you further heal our minds. But... I understand. Time is of the essence. Is there anything I can do to help apart from finding the kindling and starting a fire?
"Just take your time to recuperate. You can go assist Boodiddly in the meals if you'd like."
Boodiddly stubbornly places his broken picks aside and continues working with his last set. So close... so close I can smell it!
After about a minute (and a number of broken picks), Boodiddly manages to unlock the door to the cabinets. Several of the cabinets just contain documents, but one contains three deep purple cleric’s vestments (suited for a priest of Pharasma), a clean leather lash, and a box containing four scrolls.
The gnome identifies the scrolls as two scrolls of heal, a scroll of sanctuary, and finally a scroll of restoration.
The amnesiacs set out for the interior of Briarstone Asylum once again, and end up once again in the room that contains the elderly woman in the wheelchair. To the north are a couple of doors and what appears to have once been a glass service window that has now shattered to pieces. To the south is a long hallway that seems to open up into several other areas.
Jevar approaches the door to their right, back up against the near wall.
This can't go very far... he says before pushing it open.
Shield and sword at the ready, Urzok stands ready to back Jevar up. "Same s$~~, different day! We should start taking bets on what's behind these things."
________
"Ten silver says this one's actually normal!" Shakur jokes, dagger and shield at the ready.
"Wouldn't that be the strangest thing here though?" Boodiddly laughs.
”Keep away!”
Chipped white paint peels from the battered frames of a row of identical beds. Dingy white curtains separate each bed, but offer only the illusion of privacy.
”Get away from me, bastard!”
A human man lies on one of the northernmost beds, tight restraints binding each of his four limbs. His eyes are shut as he violently-yet-futilely thrashes about in the bed.
”NO! Not again!”
"Do... do you think he's having the same dream we had?" Boodiddly asks worriedly. "Shakur, can you try to help him like you dd the folks in the sanctuary? Oh, but maybe Urzok should go with you in case he needs to be held still." The gnome waits by the doorway.
Being put out of your misery is another cure for this sort of thing too. Suppose I lucked out, the people here must be soft for sparing me, but its always an option. Urzok shrugs and follows Shakur into the room, ready to help how he can. Until he has an idea of how he can help, he remains armed.
________
Moments after Shakur and Urzok enter the room, the man lets out a high-pitched shriek, his back arching upward.
And then, just as suddenly as it started, the man’s screaming ceases and he falls limp onto the bed.
"I'm not sure what happened there but he's...he's dead. Expect company of some sort, that was NOT a pleasant death. That kinda stuff typically has 'I'm going to rise as an undead' written all over it."
How's it going in there? Do you two need backup? Is this another weird bleeding or trancing patient?
Jevar hollers into the room but does't make an effort to peer in and assess the siutation.
”Did... did anyone else see that yellow smoke come out his mouth?” Boodiddly tries to keep an eye on it, but the vapor rapidly disappears into the air. ”But yellow again - just like the chalk marks on those cultists’ heads. Why that particular color?”
"I mean, Pharasma has a color. Sarenrae has a color. Would make sense that this cult has one too."
Shakur carefully removes a finger from the body with his dagger and carefully separates it from the rest of the body.
"Does...somebody having a nightmare count as normal or am I out some silver?"
Not yet ready to joke about their situation, Urzok remains tense. "Undead? Should I slip this into his skull to be sure?" he offers seriously, twirling Red Destiny in the air. "Not normal though if the Gnome saw some sort of yellow smoke."
"Usually the removal of a finger is a reverent way of desecrating the body, which I've already done."
Screw it, Shakur begins searching the body. If I'm going to be out 10 silver for this guy, he ought to have something reasonable on him.
As Shakur searches, the man’s body begins violently convulsing! The endless creaking of the bed frame punctuate the man’s transformation—patches of his skin lose all identifying features (moles, hair, etc.) and become naught but pure white splotches. Conversely, other sections of his skin begin to deteriorate and become little more than gray sheets pulled taut against his bones.
The man’s skin oscillate between these two extremes for the better part of a minute, all the while convulsing like he were having a seizure. Eventually the splotches of gray overtake the splotches of white and the man’s fingers grow sharp and ragged claws while his teeth sharpen to a point, and after what feels like an eternity he finally stops convulsing.
Silence falls over the room for the briefest of moments, but is interrupted by a loud grumbling echoing throughout the hall. The man stirs and grunts.
”Hun...gry...”
His eyes flutter open and he looks directly at Shakur. He stares at the Pharasmin for several seconds, as if processing what is before him. Then something in the man’s eyes snaps. He lunges at Shakur as best he can with his arms and legs restrained. Like a feral animal he gnashes his teeth in an attempt to bite at anyone close by!
"Well. Now this place needs to burn."
Shakur will attempt to kill the thing. We rolling initiative?
"Well. Now this place needs to burn."
Shakur will attempt to kill the thing. We rolling initiative?
Not getting any clear responses Jevar rushes into the room, unfortunately just in time to see the patient go through terrible transformations.
Watch his reach Shakur! Did he just turn into... a zombie or something?
He thinks on it some more and corrects himself.
Ah, a ghoul. Except... his succumbing to ghoul fever was very fast and very violent. Almost like they were experimenting with some accelerated process...
He thinks some more and fishes through his pack for the scholarly journals he picked up earlier to see if they contain any writing about what they've just witnessed.
He thinks some more and fishes through his pack for the scholarly journals he picked up earlier to see if they contain any writing about what they've just witnessed.
"This abomination cannot be allowed to survive. The great name of The Lady of Graves demands it. You may do whatever research you wish, Jevar, but I will not leave this room while the creature is alive. It's an affront to pretty much everything I stand for."
"I'm gonna gut it if it gets aggressive too, where I've from, these things only last as long as it takes to put them down," Urzok says, also uncomfortable with the beast's existence, but willing to allow some leeway for the intellectually curious. "Might be the second thing we've agreed upon, Elf."
________
Without access to more relevant writings I don't think there's anything else to research here. I've noted the observation about the abnormal transformation, we shall see if it provides relevant in time. You may have at it; destroy the thing.
"After you," Shakur barks, pointing first to Urzok and then to the undead with his shield. "I'll make sure it dies if your swing isn't enough."
Shakur begins chanting as his dagger floats from his hand, hovering only a foot above the ghoul.