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Hamish will keep the Gull large for the escape, in case the deck space is needed... though he himself flies just above it.
"Leavin' a corpse in this place?" Hamish says, with a surprised look at Marta. "That's how you end up one those unlucky bastards." He points towards the undead pouring out of the fissures.
He yells at the men to return to their posts, indicating the beleaguered medical staff. "Get those sailors out of the water!"
The Seaward Gull goes in, cannons firing on all sides at any undead that get to close, while the crew on deck start tossing grapnels over the sides to the medics, in an attempt to pull them clear.
Whisper peeks outside his cage long enough to tell his master what is going on but retreats back quickly.
(His Take 10 on K-Arcana is 36 with the luck bonus).
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Rokgurn punches out whilst flying hoping to connect with something solid.
"Air punch!"
"More negative energy fun here so watch out for the rainy patches. Are we getting out together with magic?"
Rokgurn looks at Jack and Arnaut as there is no available plant life to move through.
Unless the party wants to Teleport/Dimension Door out together Rokgurn will Etheral Jaunt and fly to safety.
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Marta lashes out with her spear, activating bane, in an attempt to protect the non-combatants (i.e medics).
"Hamish, I do hope you don't intend to wander around this place looking for corpses to clean up. I don't like the looks of that black stuff and if we linger here too long, we all might end up joining the enemy as freshly minted undead ourselves."
Bones get blasted apart and scattered around the loose terrain like an abattoir’s afterthoughts, adding another hazard to the caverns beneath Gallowspire.
"Yer the one sayin' it'd be a good place to get entombed!"
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"Ah, I see your point. Not a good way or place to die. Forget I said that. I would make a particularly nasty undead, I'm thinking."
Marta's practiced movements prove to be adequate to the task of avoiding the scattered bone rubble, each foot placed precisely 'just so' as she carries on her conversation with the educative captain.
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As the roof starts caving in, Hamish starts flying underneath the Seaward Gull, using the ship like some kind of protective umbrella.
Unfortunately, whoever is manning the helm seems to be steering on instinct, and the ship keeps tacking to port or to starboard, with little warning, but surprising skill, to avoid the boulders falling from above.
(evasion)
It manages to avoid all the debris, though you're not sure how. Unfortunately, it quite often leaves Hamish in the lurch, having to dodge on his own as his cover keeps moving.
He spends most of the time throwing out a vast array of colorful curses, as he suddenly has to work twice as hard to avoid them himself.
"It's those bloody haddock, all over again." He bemoans, panting from all the exertion. "If they were all made of stone, and ten times larger!"
"Who's steering that damn ship? Pete, is that you! Ya blaggard!"
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Rokgurn looks at the others dodging the boulders and decides to turn Ethereal instead flying where he pleases.
(He activates his Empty Body class ability which functions as Ethereal Jaunt. I mentioned in my previous post that he would be doing this if the party was not going to teleport out together.)
As the boulder hail is successfully avoided, the passage the Pathfinder horde has been travelling through arrives at an almost impassable cave-in.
An obliquely canted andesite bust of a huge horned skull juts out of the rubble wall, seeming to grin at your predicament.
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Jack pulls a slab of salted (for taste) butter from his spell component pouch and rubs it over his body so quickly, you're certain he's practiced this particular procedure often. He casts a spell and squeezes past the horny skull jutting into the wall of rubble.
Once through the obstacle, he uses a bit of prestidigation to help lick off any remaining butter.
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Marta throws herself head first into the tight passage only to have her spear catch the side and twist defiantly to the side. Her body gets about half way into the hole when the bowed spear springs back and ejects her 5' backwards and onto her arse.
With a grimace she jumps to her feet and scowls at the offending spear.
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Through the terrible dark and palpable evil of the dungeons of Gallowspire, the expedition fights its way to the surface. The earth beneath and around them continues to shake, and undead monstrosities continue to fight, but the Pathfinders are implacable in their progress. Finally, after many more hours, the dim light of day greets the surviving Pathfinders who emerge from the outskirts of the Gallowgarden. Most show signs of desperate battle and deep exhaustion. As the light grows and shatters the clearing clouds, a few shouts of congratulations soon become a rousing cheer.
Marcos Farabellus steps forward triumphantly. “My friends, I have never been so proud to call myself a Pathfinder as I am today. Thanks to you, and to everyone who gave their lives to this mission, the world does not need to fear a terrible undead blight. The Whispering Tyrant may be a figure of legend, but you have challenged his plots, and you have emerged victorious. Your bravery and determination stand as a shining example, not just to your fellow agents, but to the world. Let us face the challenges ahead in the same spirit. Let us honor our dead and carry their memory and stories with us as we move forward into a new day. Explore! Report! Cooperate!”