Marcus stares at the man for a moment, visually sweeping the room, then steps in. He's no longer dripping blood due to the magical healing, but the grime and soot and gore covering his armor isn't something that could be quickly cleaned with a little feet wiping. "Time to pause the research and talk."
He looks up, his face craggy with worry lines and wrinkles somehow softening his otherwise monstrous appearance. When he speaks, it’s obvious that he has sharper than normal incisors, ”young lady - Vera - I respect you, but there is much you have inferred incorrectly.” His voice is rich, and sonorous, and he looks back at whatever he is doing, ”zhe noise outside was quite distracting, and I nearly ruined my experiment - much will be lost if I do not finish.” He holds up his finger, as if saying wait with body language ancient and weighty.
He adds, ”as an aside- zhank you for taking care of Lamm, but a few more moments, please.” but continues to look into the contraption.
"You--but--you know me? You're not with Lamm?"
.
Vera tenses up for a moment. She hates waiting. But the researcher seemed . . . to become friendlier with her?
"Don't you dare hurt him," she says. As long as he doesn't appear to be hurting the man, Vera does not yet intervene. He watches the researcher carefully, though. Studying him.
.
Yaziyah tenses as she steps over the threshold into the room. "Is your research of the kind that cuts into people while they are still alive? And what goal do you have for it?" She frowns at the man's choice of words - 'taking care of Lamm'.
"Are you a prisoner here? Was Lamm forcing you to conduct research for his twisted purposes?"
He continues to raise his finger at the sound of Yazi until she finishes speaking, and then adjusts the contraption.
The Varisian seems to be in reasonable health.
Marcus raises his brow to the party, a clear visual indication of I have no idea what's going on here, do you want me to stop him?
He blinks and stands up, stretching, and then rubs his brow. ”zhese zhings - zhey do not always comfortable.”
He removes the slide with what is obviously a blood sample on it, and holds it up, ”my apologies to you all, zhere was a time sensitive experiment zhat I was observing the results of. Like so many before, it ended in failure.” He retrieves a piece of tape and labels the slide with a stub of a pencil, and puts the slide into the case. There appear to be many more slides that are empty, as well as some labeled with some sort of samples on them, though they seem older.
He folds his hands in front of him, and his fingernails look longer than most, sharp, pointed, and seemingly as hard as metal.
He lowers his chin like an owl, appraising … something. In his low, accented voice he says, ”you have asked me many questions in a somewhat chaotic manner; which would you like answered first?” He looks over the group, his mouth drawn in a thin line.
Yaziyah frowns, the questions tumbling over in her mind. Who are you? What are you doing here? Were you working with Lamm? Are you a necromancer? Are you part of this plague-creating cult?
...Is Ruan alright?
The Shoanti squeezes her eyes shut, the image of the hospice above and its rows of beds flashing through her mind.
"What is the purpose of your research here?"
Marcus can't help but grumble an acknowledgement of the man's plight. He wasn't being rude or crass and they came in pretty heated. He keeps his silence so those with sharper minds can be more precise with their questioning.
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He nods, ”my research is personal at zhis point. Zhough zhat answer would be an obfuscation, so I will explain.” He pauses.
”I was sent here to help Andaisin develop zhe blood veil, because I am something of an expert on diseases. However, beyond my notes - I was unnecessary. So for some weeks, I have been left to my own devices, until such time as I am called home.”
He gestures at the Varisian, ”my interest is in why many ethnically varisian people appear to be immune to zhe blood veil, and zhe ramifications zhat may have for natural immunity to ozher diseases.” He opens his hands ”I know some may develop an immunity through zheir faith, or zhrough deliberate modifications to zheir own physiology. But zhose only werk if zhe actor commits to the condition prior to contracting the disease.”
He adds, ”I am what you might call a ‘vampire’, of a sort. Such a condition is similar to any other disease of zhe body - for obvious reasons I seek to understand if zhere is a way to reverse it.” He gestures to himself, ”so - as I stated, personal.”
He adds, almost apologetically, ”I would like to also say - I have a substantial amount of research here and I do not wish for it to be broken. In addition, I do not bear any of you any ill will - contrary to zhat I have heard of all of your exploits from zhis … bunker, such as they were described by zhe idiot - Lamm - between his fits of rage. Anyone who could make Rolth angry deserves my respect - he was a fool but clever, and he murdered people in your city for many years without being caught. Killing him was an accomplishment, and it made my work space quiet for zhe first time in days.. so for multiple reasons - zhank you.”
He inclines his head, ”I apologize, I did not intend to bore you with zhe long-winded ramblings of a very old man. Is there anything else specifically you wish to know? I can see zhat see you have some magical effects from spells active - I do not wish to keep you if you intend to fight zhe remainder of zhe cult, such as zhey are.”
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"A vampire!" says Vera in surprise. That would explain the fangs. And perhaps the research, if he were to be believed. Weren't vampires inherently evil? This one, though, has been quite calm. "Well, vampires are a lot more polite than I expected. We ran into some vampire spawn in a dark alleyway a while back. It was a pretty draining experience. Would you know about that?"
She pauses, then adds. "I think there's a lot we wish to know. If you're here to serve Lady Andaisin, why do you not care about the fate of this cult?"
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He shakes his head, ”I understand your confusion, Vera. Zhey may have been vampire spawn - zhe somewhat feral result of zhe disease infecting a person with… less capacity? Experience? It is a fuzzy line. An accomplished scout, a cleric, a noble with substantial training - zhey will become full vampires - and keep many of zheir facilities zhe same.” He taps his own mind at the front, ”zhis part appears to govern self control, for zhe spawn it atrophies to barely anyzhing. But zhe disease affects ozher parts as well.” He touches the side of his head, ”for those like me, it only atrophies zhe center - which I zheorize regulates certain emotions - zhose which I may only feel after feeding on humanoid blood.” He lowers his hand. ”If it would make you feel better - I have no spawn, and if I did - I could lie to you so effectively you could not tell zhe difference.”
He opens his other hand, ”as for your second question, well, I want to go home, and I cannot until my research is done or Andaisin is dead. Functionally, I cannot go home as you might say ‘empty-handed.’ I intend to finish my experiments here on this young man, before I go, zhough, as zhe enterprise of discovery is iterative. Failure is just a setback in my experience.”
He raises an eyebrow, ”I will harm him, but he will not feel pain - such as I can prevent- but he will die at zhe end.” He pauses, ”unless you can give me somezhing to keep me from being ‘empty-handed’. I have some ideas but you may not like zhem. I would advise you to decide soon, as your spells will run out and put you at a disadvantage against Andaisin.”
Yaziyah is taken aback by the direction of this conversation. "You... want Andaisin dead? And your research would kill Ruan?" The Shoanti shakes her head, as if to clear the myriad thoughts buzzing inside it.
"Your research could save many lives. But Ruan is innocent, and he did not consent to this. His sister is desperate to find him. You seem to imply there is an alternative." Acutely aware that time was running out, she puts up a hand.
"Can you pause your research until we have dealt with Andaisin? Then we can talk at leisure, and explore options."
He shakes his head, "unfortunately, my research has some time constraints, as your fighting ability does. In addition," he taps the side of his head, "I understand zhat I could help many people, but such a zhing is not a matter zhat concerns me; recall zhat I do not have zhe capacity to feel many emotions - such as zhat of empathy."
He lowers his hand, "I would need you to commit to returning with something zhat I need from her room - one of zhese 'functional death's head coffers'. It would have to be a commitment from Marcus, in particular, on his honor, zhat you would return with it." He shakes his head, "it is not zhat I do not trust you all to intend to retrieve it, and promise me that you will now, but you may change your mind."
He opens his hand, "zhen I would be 'empty handed' and my experiment will have spoiled, a position I do not wish to find myself in." He gestures, "if Marcus were to give me his word - I would trust that he would enforce it to the letter - or give me somezhing of equal value as recompense."
He turns to Marcus, "do you promise to bring zhis functional 'death's head coffer' to me, using all of zhe power zhat you have available to you, in return for me stopping my experiments now?" He inclines his head.
Marcus raises his brows at being called out, then narrows his eyes in suspicion. The man clearly knew him well. He lets the air hang heavy with silence for a moment. Then he inhales deeply and responds. "What are these death's head coffers? It is difficult for me to agree to retrieve something when I don't know what it is." His tone implied honesty, and a willingness to consider the proposition, but genuine curiousity about what the item in question is.
He nods, "I understand your concern, but I am not certain myself - I have not examined a functional one. Zheir magic is peculiar, and I have been led to believe that all but a few have been drained. If it would assuage your concerns, will promise zhat, should you obtain zhis for me, I would not intentionally use it to harm anyone 'innocent' people or animals or such."
He pauses, and breathes in performatively, "zhough as I have noted, I could lie to you and you would likely accept my lie readily, so you may need to judge whether zhis is a good decision independent of any promise I can make."
"We're not leaving without him. Family is important" Magda says in a tone that doesn't hold discrimination (she doesn't care at all that he is a whatever, even though his Zing buzz tickles her ears), but is as immovable as the Wall. She won't have that sad woman crumble into herself even more. The city is full of agony after agony, and all Mags knows how to help is one person at a time.
Marcus appraises the man, letting them sit in the silence for a moment.
He was right. His face and tone, completely even and inscrutable. No tells.
Marcus looks to the party, giving them an opportunity to interject. Assuming they don't:
"Leave this man alone and I swear on my honor that I will scour this hideout to bring a death's head coffer to you." His deal is not full of disclaimers, it is simple and straightforward, relying on the good intent of both parties. He offers a mailed hand to shake.
He nods solemnly, and shakes Marcus’ hand, then steps back, towards Ruan. He moves to the prone Varisian performer, and quickly undoes the complex clasps.
He retrieves a potion from a pouch at his side, and feeds it to the young man, adding ”zhis will revive him,” towards anyone who gives him an odd look.
He then steps back, and Ruan’s eyes flutter open. Ignoring the bard, the vampire starts packing his things. He adds, ”time runs short, and I expect my payment. The longer you wait the less successful we will both be. Young man, you may stay or go - it is your choice - but if I cared, I would advise you to avoid being a burden on zhese people.” The vampire continues packing, seemingly focused on carefully cataloguing everything that lays around the room.
Ruan rubs his wrists and looks around. He looks incredibly confused.
Vera feels an immense weight lift off her shoulders as the vampire releases the performer and he comes back to his senses. She beckons him over. "Ruan, right? Do you remember the party you were performing for at the Carowyn mansion? Well, you were captured during that party by an evil cult and brought deep underground. It's been many, many days. Your sister, Deyanira, is looking for you. We can show you the way back to the surface, and I'm sure you can find your way home from there."
She's not sure any of that will alleviate his confusion, but she generally agreed it was time to get him to safety so they could continue the fight.
"You're being rescued. Do as you're told and we'll get you out of here." Marcus says much more directly. "Can you walk?" If so, he beckons the group outside the lab, and closes the door behind them. "We should get him to the elevator and continue clearing the hideout." Marcus suggests.
He looks at the form of the vampire and yelps, slightly, and then stumbles away towards the party. He rubs his temple as he nods and blinks and Ruan says, ”uhh thanks… how did you know I was here? I don’t… even… the manor? I remember a woman - uhhh clown - she killed all the guests! I thought she was going to kill me but she just made a pun and knocked me out…” a dark look passes over his face.
Ruan looks over his shoulder, ” Deyanira? Oh bless her. She’s the best sister I could ask for.” he chokes back tears, and shudders, ”there was this guy who would cut us in a room with beds. He was insane, I hope he’s not around… I… if we’re in the same place we have to avoid him!”
He grips the arm of the first person that offers it, to steady himself, though he seems able enough to walk.
The vampire ignores him and continues to pack his things.
Vera gives Magda a not-too-subtle elbow to her side along with a tilt of her head, to encourage her to offer Ruan her arm. After all, he was good looking, and she was his rescuer!
"What?" Magda gives her friend a bewildered look at the sudden violence against her. The sharp glance made her understand that she should help and feels guilt at not noticing, he was even in his current state rather...
...
wait
...
The slow on the upkeep half-orc shoots Vera a 'what the hells' look, but the man is already against her and her cheeks burst in redness as she helps him along.
shaking her head at the girls' antics, Yaziyah gives Marcus and Olenna a nod as she moves towards the eastern doors, ready to face the next horror that this place would throw at them.
Mags happens to see the Yazi's shaking head and SOMEHOW her cheeks gets redder. For once, Magda Vasillu isn't a shaman of the city, not a survivor of the streets, a merchant, a baker, or a chicken slum farmer. She is just a eighteen year old who was very very awkward at times when she presented suddenly in a situation like this.
Vera grins as Magda stares at her. She straightens and stands up taller, as if to tell Magda to be proud of what she was doing--rescuing Ruan from danger!
The ocarina player seems exhausted and readily accepts Magda’s help, though his mental fog seems to preclude any more of an emotion than exhaustion or relief, they quickly find their way back to the elevator, and call it back after having let the two doctors go.
He looks confused and says to Magda ”um, thanks, milady. I expect you must remain here - what shall I encounter on the way out?”
Magda explains the guards at the top, and that they would help him. He nods and hugs everyone in thanks, then steps in and presses the button.
The vampire is carefully cataloguing all of his ancient things. Yazi and Olenna can see that he opens a box and retrieves an item, considering it carefully in his clawed hands, and then closes the box. [ooc]
He looks even more contemplative for a moment, then steps to the door and says, ”excuse me, I am leaving zhis garbage outside zhe room. I do not need it.” and places some vials just outside the door. I’m neat, ancient handwriting they appear to be four potions, or what look like potions, two are labeled flight, and one is labeled monstrous visage, and one is labeled tree. He returns to packing his things.
The others return from the elevator in a moment and the party gathers at the door.
As the vampire drops off the vials outside, Marcus cocks an eyebrow. "Never got your name."
Without looking up, he says ”Ramoska Arkminos.”
"Thank you, Ramoska," says Vera as the bottles are collected. She encourages anyone who might find the vials handy to take it.
"I'm just about ready," she remarks. Seeing how effective it was, Vera quickly prepares magics for giving Marcus flight once more, and does so. She then will speed everyone up right before the door opens.
Olenna and Magda look carefully, but don't find any other traps here.
The reek of burning wax wafts through this morbid chamber, with several tall, misshapen candles being the apparent source. Workspaces strewn with tall beakers of foul-colored liquids, parchments covered in insidious symbols, and cages of whimpering rodents fill large alcoves in both the northern and southern walls. A pair of huge stone doors hang ajar to the east, revealing a long hallway leading further into the dark. At the room’s center stand four large, cylindrical glass vats, each filled with a bubbling emerald fluid that tints the chamber’s light a noxious green. Within each suspension floats a malformed abomination—something part human, part angel, and part horse—things of half-formed muscle with dead, fleshless equine skulls. Three of the forms are motionless, but the fourth twitches now and then.
There are eight of the cultists standing around the room nervously.
Olenna steps in and holds up her mark of station, ”by the authority vested in me by the city charter - lay down your weapons and surrender. You will be treated fairly - we have quarrel mostly with your… supervisor? I don’t know how cults work…” She looks a little awkward, ”regardless - by charter section 23, title 18 of the rules of criminal proceedings - I am authorized to grant protective custody in Citadel Volshyenek for the duration of your sentence for any of you who give up now. The remainder will be sent to Longacre” there is a weight to the name of the dreaded prison of Korvosa, a weight which is heavy on anyone from the city.
One of the cultists near the east side looks around nervously and drops his scythe, holding up his hands. One of his compatriots makes a threatening motion and mutters ”coward! We’ll feast on your entrails for your betrayal!”
Mags the shaman is back, instead of Mags the awkward girl. Her city speaks to her, suggesting ways to make the cultists surrender to fire hair. Unfortunately, the suggestions make no sense, so helps little.
Marcus nods grimly, charging into the room. "Yazi, by the vats!" Marcus roars, indicating the spot for her to move to .
Marcus is completely rebuffed by the center cultist and he snorts, vein bulging in his head. Notoriety has a cost.
Current Effects:
Barkskin (+3 natural armor)
Protection from evil (+2 deflection and +2 on saves)
Communal Resist Energy: Fire (resist fire 20)
Haste (+1 attacks/AC/reflex saves, +30 foot move speed, extra attack on full attack)
Bless (+1 attacks and saves against fear)
Weapons Against Evil (weapon ignores DR of evil creatures if it's 5 or less)
Prayer (+1 on attacks/damage/saves/skill checks)
Fly (flight with movespeed 60, 90 with haste)
Current Stats with all Current Effects:
AC 30 (28 w/o shield), Touch 15, FF 27 (25 w/o shield)| HP 73/73 (Temp 0), DR 3/- | F +9, R +7, W +5 (+1 vs continuous, +2 vs evil, +1 vs fear) | Resist: fire 20
Moving as directed, Yaziyah grips her hammer resolutely, stopping behind Marcus as she calls for blessings from the ancestors anew.
One of the cultists in the northern part of the room roars, ”fine - kill us - but you will have to reckon with a servant of Apollyon! May his rotting pestilence deliver us all!” He swiftly approaches the tank with the still living creature and lifts his scythe, bringing it down with an ear-splitting crack against the glass. More alarmingly, there is a flicker as some abjuration thaumaturgy is disrupted.
Notable and substantial cracks appear on the glass, and fluid begins to leak in rivulets, accompanied by a horrific stench. It’s reminiscent of gangrenous wounds, rotten fish, and mold (if that were possible).
The cultists seem unconcerned by the vile stench except the one who gave up, who rushes to flee through the northern door.
The other two near the north end of the room step to the east away from the vat, and cast spells on Marcus, Yazi, and Olenna.
The immovable one sneers from behind his skull mask, ”if you think I’m tough - wait until you meet My Lady. She will eviscerate you with only a flick of her wrist.” He steps away, and gestures,seemingly to pull Marcus out of his protected space, by forcibly controlling his bones.
The other two target Yazi the same way.
.
”Oh fiddlesticks, remarks Vera as the creature emerges from the muck. ”That Leukodaemon resists elemental damage, resists magic, resists damage except silver or gold aligned weapons, breathes a cone of flies, and knows some spells!”
Vera had never encountered such a horrific creature before.
For now, she saves her limited remaining magics and instead fires magic missiles from a wand at one of the cultists! (I'm thinking one that is injured if there is such a cultist.)
Olenna steadies herself, "well, at least ONE of them gave up. Right." She makes a noise like hup and steps over to the immovable cultist and stabs them.
The cultist cries out in pain as they are stabbed through the liver, quite expertly, and dies immediately, but the good news ends just as quickly.
With a crack, and then a sudden crash, the northwest tank explodes as the creature encased inside releases itself. This human-shaped beast has a horse’s skull for a head. It walks on cracked hooves and bears the rotting wings of a carrion bird. The stench assaults everyone's nostrils, and it flexes its horrible wings for a moment and surveys the room with empty-eyed hatred, regarding the party and the cultists equally. The beast has a fine-looking large bow in one hand, already strung, but surreally, no arrows.
Marcus nods to Olenna as the anchored cultist falls, then snaps his attention to the shattering glass. He plants his back foot for a moment...but then meets the creature's eye. They have no control over it.
Marcus growls towards Yazi. "We're leaving. Now." He follows right after her, throwing an arm around Olenna's midsection and bodily picking her up as he leaves the room, shouldering past Vera.
He sets Olenna down and looks at Vera. "Close the door. If they want to release a monster so bad, they can deal with it themselves."
Current Effects:
Barkskin (+3 natural armor)
Protection from evil (+2 deflection and +2 on saves)
Communal Resist Energy: Fire (resist fire 20)
Haste (+1 attacks/AC/reflex saves, +30 foot move speed, extra attack on full attack)
Bless (+1 attacks and saves against fear)
Weapons Against Evil (weapon ignores DR of evil creatures if it's 5 or less)
Prayer (+1 on attacks/damage/saves/skill checks)
Fly (flight with movespeed 60, 90 with haste)
Current Stats with all Current Effects:
AC 30 (28 w/o shield), Touch 15, FF 27 (25 w/o shield)| HP 73/73 (Temp 0), DR 3/- | F +9, R +7, W +5 (+1 vs continuous, +2 vs evil, +1 vs fear) | Resist: fire 20
Magda knows better than fighting when fighting is just a good way of ending, so she hurries to her friend, pulling her back a step and shuts the door.
Yaziyah retraces her steps to follow Marius's tactical retreat - possibly the one instance in the history of engagements where it was actually a tactical choice rather than an euphemism for running away.
"Hah! I like how you think!"
The southern door opens again as a cultist rushes over to do so. Another cultist to the south maneuvers one of the corpses in the room outside to start grabbing the party.
The corpse reaches up and pulls her down to the ground!
The cultist to the north seems to accept whatever happens, and concentrates carefully on hurting the fleeing adventurers.
Yazi is not flying yet, and the force of their necromantic power over bones and flesh thows her over the short railing to the ground below, taking additional damage.
The other two northern cultists keep the tanks between them and the leukodaemon, but also direct spells at the party outside.
Magda is similarly not flying, and the vicious necromancy rends at her flesh as she's thrown over the edge of the catwalk onto the ground below, taking additional damage.
The cowardly cultist continues to flee towards the elevator.
Vera is startled as Magda and Yazi are violently thrown off the catwalk, and she is almost tripped! She slams the door in front of her shut, steps aside, and uses a bit of magic to shut the other door.
Majenko follows and gets ready to confuse the next foe he sees!
Olenna taps her feet impatiently, as if she's ready to go back in and thwack some more of the villainous criminals.
There's a grunt of pain from inside the room that's clearly audible to Magda.
Without any enemies in view, Magda touches herself with her magic healing stick.