"Alright! Shame we can't just rush in there and crack more skulls, but at least there is something we can do while we wait," Urzok points out. In anticipation, he goes over his equipment, pausing to frown at his shield. "This'll go soon, but not much to be done about it now."
________
After several chanting-filled minutes, the fog in the hallway clears up significantly—the amnesiacs still cannot see completely to the other side, but they can navigate through without walking blindly.
” Goka fahf agl Iiahe vulgtmor l' Uh'eog ph'nglui Turor…”
As they move through the fog, the amnesiacs find it is a long hallway with two doors that lead off into what appear to be crumbled bedrooms—the walls in one of which have completely fallen apart to open into the fog-covered heights beyond. A single piece of paper flitters across the ground of the hallway, with the image of an empty, endless city beneath a swirling sky.
“…llll mgepgoka h' nyth'drn, Ahnnn Fhtagn.”
After what feels like an eternity, the amnesiacs finally see the fog begin to clear as they reach the ending of the hallway, able to see relatively clearly into the room beyond.
Comprising multiple toppled cells, this chamber looks as though it could collapse at any moment. Thousands of parchment scraps cover the walls, as if in a pitiful attempt to plaster the countless cracks. The flickering of dozens of candles illuminates the artwork’s subject matter: innumerable forlorn, surreal landscapes stretching into bleak infinities. The multitude of visions put to paper transforms the room into a threshold of nightmares. At the room’s center lies four stained straw mattresses and numerous pillows, piled and placed to form some kind of makeshift pallet-throne.
”Goka fahf agl Iiahe vulgtmor l' Uh'eog ph'nglui Turor…”
A gaunt Varisian man with a ponytail of long and exceptionally straight white hair sits cross-legged upon the pallet-throne like a Keleshite mystic. He wears multiple patients’ gowns that seem to have been shredded and stitched to create a layered robe. His arms and much of his chest are exposed, revealing lines of charcoal and yellow chalk that streak his flesh, the most prominent of which appears to be a yellow flame on his forehead. In his right charcoal-coated hand he holds a small, silvery mace with a cylindrical head that seems to have been polished to a shine; a length of twine is wrapped securely around the head of the mace, dangling off to show a “pendant” of a bear claw. In the man’s left hand he holds what appears to be the twig of a birch tree. The man’s eyes are closed as he sits upon the pallet-throne, uttering the strange words that echo throughout in some kind of a trance.
“…llll mgepgoka h' nyth'drn, Ahnnn Fhtagn.”
The more the amnesiacs stare at the scene before them, the more it becomes clear just who this man is: Ulver Zandalus.
”Goka fahf agl Iiahe—“
Zandalus’s eyes flutter as he gets a glimpse of the amnesiacs before him and cuts himself off. His eyes open wide as he stares at the newcomers. He slightly tilts his head and furrows his brow as he squints through the yellow fog, a strange softness masking his face. He speaks in a soft voice, slow-speeched voice, as if he were speaking a language he did not know fluently.
”You? What are you—?”
Zandalus’s eyes glaze over, as if he were looking at something far in the distance. His head slumps to the side like that of a ragdoll as his mouth drops open. The man’s eyes stare emptily at the amnesiacs—no, more accurately they stare towards the amnesiacs.
”Y̨o̶u'͢r͞e s͘ùp͢p̷o҉sed to͡ b̷e͟ dead.“
A voice like a tempest wind hissing over broken glass sheers from the man’s split, motionless lips—as though something other than Zandalus himself speaks from inside his body.
”I̵̷̟͖͖̹̲͉̜͉ ͞҉̭̯͎̩̭̹͉a̛̖̼̗̼͉͍̞̕l̡̥̗̦̕r̶̛͈̬e̩͈͍̯a͏̷͕d̲̣͙̪̜͚͟y̵͔̙͝ ̘͕̞̘̹ͅk̢̢͖̯̬̱ͅi̡͏͍͖̲l̶̰̳͔̥̦ḷ̙͇̮͖̳̗é̥̣͓̼̮̼͟͠ḏ̺̬͇͈̱͍̬ ̻̩̜͟y҉͏̤̞̼̰̯͉o̯̖͈̮̻͙ͅù̧̟̠̥̤̠͕.̷̵͓̜̗̺͞“
Zandalus’s body begins to shake, as if he were gyrating uncontrollably. The mountain of pillows of the pallet-throne falls down as the man continues to shake the beds he is perched upon.
*
*
*
*
Zandalus flies to his feet, moving upwards like a marionette being yanked by invisible strings!
The voice screeches strange words from Zandalus’s lips as magical lights surround the cult leader before vanishing and Zandalus begins to shake far more violently than previously. A second set of magical incantations screech from Zandalus’s unmoving mouth and a portion of the saffron smoke that the amnesiacs stand in splits off toward him, coalescing into an “aura” just above the surface of Zandalus’s skin.
Round 1
================
Ulver Zandalus
Urzok
Boodiddly
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Here goes nothing!" Shakur shouts as he begins to cast a spell. "How much you want to bet those guys downstairs are gonna be pissed."
Shakur looks upon the form in front of him before beginning to cast a spell. From that point, Shakur utters but one word, his voice booming across the room. "Zandalus!"
Shakur then marches forward into the room and off to the side, hoping Urzok charges further forward than him.
Jevar's eyes widen as his mind flashes back to the dream that awoke him freshly in this wretched place.
The madman, who collided with me (us?) and ran screaming off into the endless expanse of yellow fog... So this is Zandalus.
He snaps to attention as Shakur calls out the same name, almost surprised and frightened by the confirmation.
Jevar quickly, but seemingly clumsily transitions into an incantation to direct at Zandalus. He steps up past Urzok and collects himself more firmly to finish it off, sending a globe of acid speeding at him.
A boom of sound and a globule of acid are thrown right at the cult leader!
The voice from inside Zandalus screeches forth in a deafening wail, completely drowning out the massive sound from Shakur, but this leaves him open enough for Jevar to hurl a globule of acid that splashes right on top of the man!
Round 1
================
Ulver Zandalus (-13)
Urzok
Boodiddly
Jevar
Shakur
================
Round 1
================
Ulver Zandalus (-12)
Urzok
Boodiddly
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Oh good, we found him!" Boodiddly says, trying to sound confident. "Now hurry, everyone!" He twangs his jaw harp twice, then tries to unravel whatever Zandalus just did.
"This has been a long time coming. With you in pieces, we'll finally be able to leave this hell!" Urzok declares as he bounds towards Zandalus.
As he gets in close, he savagely tries to shove Red Destiny into the man's chest. "Get around him, Elf!"
________
Urzok rushes forward to stab Zandalus with his weapon, and right at the last second Boodiddly casts a spell and causes the aura of smoke around him to shatter! Urzok brings Red Destiny deep into the cult leader’s chest right as Boodiddly twangs his jaw harp. Zandalus’s screeches of pain overshadow the echoes of Boodiddly’s song.
The ungodly voice within Zandalus screeches as Zandalus himself begins flailing around as he begins to glow with magic!
Urzok chops at the man’s hands, but this does not stop him. The cloud of fog once again swirls over to Zandalus, but instead of hovering over him, the fog swirls over itself in numerous chunks and coalesces into the forms of three exact copies of Ulver Zandalus!
The remaining wisps of fog around the Zandaluses spiral toward his mace. The voice screeches once more as the yellow fog once again coalesces around all four Zandaluses as an aura just above their skin.
With jerky movements, the four Zandaluses raise their maces and swing at the fighter in front of them!
The bear claw hanging from the Zandaluses’ maces crumble to dust as Urzok is sent flying backwards from the sheer force of the blow!
Round 2
================
Ulver Zandalus (-43) {3 images}
Urzok (-20)
Boodiddly
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Big spells aren't for big guys. Got it!" Shakur shouts. "Keep it simple." Shakur casts Magic Weapon on his dagger and draws it. "Lots of him. More stabs is better, right? Right?" he pleads to Boodiddly. "Right?"
Seeing that Shakur is prepare is weapon, Jevar yells Shakur, try the mutagen and unleash hell on him!
The wizard performs the familiar incantation that provides the electrical bath for his raven.
He then draws his own dagger.
The raven lifts up to take the charge to Zandalus but she gets confused by the mirror images.
"No! Bad smoke!" Boodiddly stamps his little foot before realizing Shakur asked him a question. "Oh! Um, yes, more stabs more better?" Deciding that's enough thought on the matter, he twangs a few more times and exhales loudly as if trying to blow the smoke away.
Urzok forces the big muscles in his legs to brace himself from being sent back any further. "Nice trick, let's see if you can do it again!" he challenges, racing back towards Zandalus.
Weapon raised, he comes in from the side this time, swinging his blade in a wide arc!
________
Oreb flails wildly, but manages to successfully divebomb right through Zandalus’s stomach, causing him to burst into saffron smoke.
Boodiddly attempts to counteract the cult leader’s magic, but fails to do so, but his music echoes throughout the halls.
Urzok solidly slices through Zandalus’s chest…
…but manages to burst one of the fake Zandaluses into a cloud of smoke. Nonetheless, he cleaves straight through the fake Zandalus and strikes—albeit less powerfully—at the true Zandalus!
The aura of smoke around Zandalus coalesce into yellow tendrils that wrap around the blade of Red Destiny, holding back Urzok’s attack from being as effective as it could have been!
The two remaining Zandaluses carefully Step away from the fighter before seeming to be dragged at full speed! Zooming down the hallway past all of the amnesiacs!
Round 3
================
Ulver Zandalus (-45) {1 images}
Urzok (-20)
Boodiddly {Lingering: Round 1 of 3}
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Woah. Woah. Where's he going!? Stop him!"
Shakur Strides twice and physically throws his magical dagger.
Darn.
Darn.
The raven is almost swept up in a whirlwind as Zandalus dashes away.
At least the smoke is further away.
She returns to her perch on her master's shoulder.
Jevar watches the cult leader fly by him, and he immediately turns to follow settling behind a pile of rubble in the hallway, where he has a clear shot around Shakur.
Overly cautious, he overcorrects for avoiding Shakur. The dagger turns in mid-air and returns to his hand, and then goes into its sheath.
Boodiddly hurries after everyone else, trying to find a spot in the rubble to block Zandalus's retreat.
"SPEED?! I AM SPEED!" Urzok roars as he sprints after the man. "WHAT'S THE MATTER ZANDALUS, CRISIS OF FAITH?!" he taunts as he leaps the final distance and tries to shove Red Destiny into Zandalus.
________
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Ulver Zandalus screams as Red Destiny is plunged into his chest—the first time the cult leader’s lips have moved in this whole ordeal. Zandalus grabs Urzok’s wrist with both of his and pulls the shortsword out of his chest and moves away from the half-orc, practically being dragged by his shoulders!
Zandalus’s erratic movements confound the half-orc and he only manages to slice one of Zandalus’s many layers of robes.
The cult leader stops right next to Boodiddly and proceeds to wildly flails his arms as the voice within screeches more incantations!
Yellow mist swirl over to Zandalus’s hand to form a cloud around his fist. Still clutching his cylindrical mace, Zandalus punches the gnome in the throat! The awkward punch itself doesn’t hit the gnome for any real damage, but the cloud over Zandalus’s fist elongates into thick tendrils that worm their way into Boodiddly’s mouth and nostrils!
Fail
The gnome feels all energy within him drain to near nothingness. Boodiddly feels the urge to scream in pain, but finds the only energy he has left is enough to keep him from keeling over into unconsciousness and nothing else.
Instead, Zandalus’s face contorts into a pained expression as he shrieks bloody murder! The misty tendrils exit Boodiddily’s interior and the cloud infuses itself into Zandalus. The veins in his hand turn a dark yellow as the cloud is absorbed into the cult leader. The disgusting hue travels up Zandalus’s arm and branches off seemingly infinitely. Every vein in the man’s body begins to glow a sickly saffron as he pants in simultaneous pain and renewed vigor. The Varisian man’s eyes—sleep-deprived and snaked by yellow lines that are his veins—looks pleadingly into Boodiddly’s now-blurry gaze as he whispers desperately.
”Kill...me...please...”
Zandalus is once again pulled like a marionette by his shoulders and dragged across the room, nearly tripping over the corpse of one of his followers-turned-oneirogen. His back slamming into a crumbling support beam, his head now slumped down into seeming unconsciousness but he nevertheless remains standing.
Round 4
================
Ulver Zandalus (-69; +18)
Urzok (-20)
Boodiddly (-37) {Lingering: Round 2 of 3}
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Then stop... moving!" Boodiddly mumbles back. The words don't seem to reach Zandalus, but they bolster the gnome back to his feet as he scrambles behind a pillar.
Jevar chases after Zandalus and draws an alchemist's fire from his belt pouch.
"You...wait........what?"
Shakur almost solemnly walks forward and magically flicks his silver dagger at Zandalus.
"What's going on? Something controlling him?" Urzok asks the others. Not sure what else he could do to contribute to solving this problem, he continues to give chase. Fighting is fun as hell, but he is yet isn't fighting back... Is this still fun? What are we fighting?
Having reached his quarry, he winds up for another thrust, this time for the gut. There's got to be SOMEWHERE that'll kill this damn thing once and for all!
"We need to corner it, who knows where else it'll lead us to if we let this continue!"
________
Shakur’s silver dagger embeds itself into Zandalus’s shoulder. Urzok closes the distance and stabs Red Destiny deep into the cult leader’s chest. The man involuntarily coughs blood straight onto Urzok’s face as he falls limp. Urzok removes the shortsword from Zandalus’s chest, causing him to fall to the ground. Numerous wounds cover Zandalus’s bare chest, but rather than bleeding, each wound and orifice begins spewing forth an all-too-familiar thick, yellow smoke. The sound of inconsistent footsteps echo throughout the room.
Round 5/6/7
================
Urzok (-20)
Boodiddly (-26)
Jevar
Shakur
================
"Something else is here. Quick, let's get ready."
Shakur will stride forward, pick up his dagger, move back to Urzok.
He'll battle medicine Urzok, stride to Boodiddly, and battle medicine Boodiddly too.
Shakur will use his second font the following turn to patch up Urzok.
He then spends his last action simply catching his breath adjacent to Boodiddly.
Boodiddly pants, his breath coming back to him as Shakur pours him a stiff drink. "Thanks," he wheezes, knocking it back before handing the shot glass back to the priest. "I needed that." The bard winds magic around himself like a veil before sniffing the air like a bloodhound searching for a scent.
Hmm, and I'm guessing this poor fellow here can't tell us what's coming, and when.
The wizard gets to work with some of his remaining spells and abilities.
Friends, I'm about to "disappear" momentarily. I'm not sure if it will truly provide me an advantage, but this feels very uncertain.
He begins an incantation and, passing his flat hand over his face disappears.
...but I don't know what position is "good" yet, without knowing where "something" is coming from.
Boodiddly listens carefully and determines that the sound of footsteps are coming from Zandalus.
Urzok holds still just long enough for Shakur to successfully heal his wounds before trying to improve upon Boodiddly's findings.
________
The smoke gushing out of Zandalus’s orifices gathers above the cult leader in a thick cloud. The fog coalesces above him into a shape that is vaguely humanoid. As the seconds tick by, the form grows less vague and becomes more clearly humanoid. After twenty seconds, something steps forth from the mist: a shadowy, gaunt creature covered in sickly saffron scraps of cloth, seeming stepping straight out of man’s worst nightmare. The sickly fog clings to the creature and many of its tatters flutter freely and dissolve into mist.
The creature, eyes covered by a length of cloth wrapped around its head, seems to look around. It looks down at its veiny right hand, staring at the shackle strapped to its wrist that is missing a chain, and speaks in a familiar voice—the sound of a tempest wind hissing over broken glass.
*
*
"̴̧̙̘̫̫ͧ̀̎̊ͭ̄ͬ̊̇̌̽ͪ͑̓̈́́̀͠F̣̼̙̝̘̗̥̠̲͖͓̱̼̙̞͔͕̳̓̌͑̀͒ͪͫ͐͂̏̈́́ͥ̄ͨͩ̓ͥ̕͜ͅr͂́͗̔̄ͣ͏̶͜ ̢͕̰̜̬̫̲̻̦͞ͅe̢̢̧̗̤̙͈͔̣͇͕̲͓ͮͨ̊̐̔͂̽̔ė͎̖̭͚̬̯̞͈͖͎̫̱̘͍͍͎̦̙̊͂̆̅̆̾̽̋̃͆͒̿̀͜͢e̓̅̐̇͗ͫ ̸̢͓̪̼͖̮͖͎͍̻̫̘̪͋̍ͬ͒͝e̷̷͍̮͉̮͖͉̲̼̳̤̝̱̤̗͗̿͒ͨͥ̍ͮͦ̍̀́.̵̭̬̖̲̺̰̮̥̬ͣͧͬͫ̇̆ͥ̌ͨ͒ͫ̊͒͛́̚͡ .̷̶͙̦̤̰̭͖̦͇̱͖̩͈̱̝̖͙͉̜̩ͭͪ͐ͪ͛͋ͭͦͥ̀̆.̶͈̣͇̪̒ͮ̏̐ͫ͂ͨͣ͠"̡̑͂̈́̋́̿͂̿́ͮ҉̘̪̺̩͈͍̠̰̰̗͇̘͓̪ ̥͚͓
*
*
The amnesiacs watch in horror as they realize just what this creature is: the same implacable murderer that they faced in their communal nightmare—the Tatterman
An unholy tearing of flesh and sinew echoes in the air as a thick shaft of metal grows out from the Tatterman’s right hand! Reaching with its left, the beast grasps the shaft of metal and forcibly pulls, ripping a jagged blade out from inside its own body!
It grasps this jagged blade with intent, sending a severe wave of terror into the hearts of the amnesiacs!
Fail
Success
Crit Fail-->Fail (Bravery)
The Tatterman looks straight at Urzok and wheezes out a long exhale. The corners of its mouth spurn upwards to reveal a sharp-toothed grin. The beast swings its jagged blade at the half-orc with an overwhelming murderous intent!
The Tatterman slices its jagged blade deep through Urzok’s chest in a giant X, sending the half-orc flying to the ground in unconsciousness! As Red Destiny clatters to the ground, the beast slowly turns its head upwards to look at the other amnesiacs.
Round 8
================
Urzok (-44) {frightened 1; prone; unconscious; dying 2}
The Tatterman (-12)
Jevar {frightened 2; invisible}
Shakur {frightened 1}
Boodiddly (-9) {frightened 1}
================
Shakur offers nothing more than a bewildered "Uhh..." before he springs into action.
First order of business. Ain't nobody surviving without Urzok
Shakur quickly mumbles, "Not this year, not yet," as he points his final font at Urzok.
Shakur then quickly raises his shield, continuing to utter his short prayer repeatedly, each repetition getting more and more panicked.
Round 8/9
================
Urzok (-15) {frightened 1; prone; wounded 2}
The Tatterman (-12)
Jevar {frightened 2; invisible}
Shakur
Boodiddly (-9) {frightened 1}
================
An alchemists fire flies through the air at the Tatterman, and the wizard suddenly re-appears.
Jevar, seeing the results and feeling an utter lack of confidence, looks very very frightened.
Jevar chucks an alchemist’s fire at the Tatterman, but only manages to throw over the nightmare’s shoulder, singing it slightly.
The second bomb, however, strikes the gaunt beast straight on, coating it in flames and causing its many tatters to ignite!
Round 8/9
================
Urzok (-16) {frightened 1; prone; wounded 2}
The Tatterman (-18) {1 persistent fire}
Jevar {frightened 1}
Shakur
Boodiddly (-9) {frightened 1}
================
"Urzok! Get out of there!" Boodiddly shouts from behind his veil of magic. He twangs his jaw harp, but it's obvious his heart's not in it.
Urzok's fear doesn't make it past the instinctual level before he blacks out, crashing to the floor, blood pouring from his chest.
Thrust back to consciousness, his eyes fly open. Snatching his blade off the floor, he rolls away from the Tatterman and gets up, his nightmare made real. "Well I wasn't going to stay there," Urzok retorts.
________
Success
Failure
Success
Success
Flesh and sinew begins stitching over itself as the Tatterman’s wounds close on their own. The beast looks straight toward Urzok and wheezes out a high-pitched wail, saliva flying at the half-orc as an ungodly chill runs down his spine!
The Tatterman shambles forward and uncaringly moves past Urzok and raises its blade and brings it down onto Jevar!
Blood flies as the blade is embedded deep into the wizard’s shoulder. The Tatterman pants hot, wet breaths onto Jevar’s skin, the ignited tatters singing the beast’s ankles.
But the tatters dragging across the ground manages to extinguish the flames.
Round 9/10
================
Urzok (-2) {wounded 2}
The Tatterman (-9)
Jevar (-24) {frightened 1}
Shakur
Boodiddly (-9)
================
Hurk... The words immediately rush from Jevar as he's badly wounded. He carefully hobbles backward as he prepares for his next move.
The wizard finally snarls out some words. There! You can waste your time putting out the flames.
"He regenerated! S!#@$! Urzok, maybe the silver here will help?"
Shakur's hand reaches forward shakily, offering his dagger to Urzok.
Shakur continues his praying as a mote of inky blackness extends forth from his hands towards the Tatterman.
Jevar. You know that the Tatterman doesn’t have the Attack of Opportunity reaction. And you are currently sitting at 2 HP. You don’t need to Step away. And your cantrips are frankly dealing better damage than the bombs (and are far more accurate). I understand wanting to change things up, and I'm not trying to force you to take any particular action against your wishes, but right now is probably not the time to start experimenting with your alchemical side.
"Jevar! Get away from it!" Boodiddly blurts before trying again to get his song going. Can we keep it from healing itself? he wonders even as he twongs his jaw harp.
Urzok grunts in approval as he takes Shakur's dagger and immediately tries to shove it into the Tatterman's chest. Pressing the attack, he aims a thrust with Red Destiny into his stomach before backing off. "Down the hallway, make him chase us!" he shouts at the others.
________
Jevar once again throws an alchemist’s fire and it shatters behind the beast.
Urzok slices at the moving monster, and it doesn’t seem to dodge in the slightest, and the half-orc chops into the beast’s shoulder!
Urzok stabs the dagger deep into the Tatterman’s chest up to the hilt and scrapes the shortsword along the monster’s side! A faint black smoke wisps from the wound of the dagger and the Tatterman’s flesh around it begins bubbling. The Tatterman shrieks in pain as its claw clutches at the burning wound! The beast glares up at Urzok!
The Tatterman shambles forward and swings at Urzok!
The Tatterman swings its jagged blade with pure force right at the half-orc and slices straight through his clothing! But the edge of the jagged blade misses the half-orc’s skin by half an inch.
Growling, the Tatterman swings its weapon once again!
A long wound opens along the length of Urzok’s arm!
Round 10/11
================
Urzok (-13) {wounded 2}
The Tatterman (-62)
Jevar (-24)
Shakur
Boodiddly (-9)
================
"Yes! that's the way!" Boodiddly cheers. "Silver weapons stop its natural healing, so keep at it! And, well, try not to be afraid of it because it can probably smell your fear and feed off it!" He gives his harp another twung and a twang for good measure as he tries to formulate new theories about how to bring down this nightmare!