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”Oh dear Chaldira, do you aid us?!“
The spiritual weapon of force attacks the creature!
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Toral misfortunes the creature with a hex and starts chanting to continue the effect!
Toral's spiritual weapon strikes the globster!
Round 2/3!
Orin (-11 hp, grappled, nauseated, 22 breath)
Vangral
Fifi
Patros (24 breath remaining)
Ghostwriter
Globster (-35 hp, grappler)
Toral
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Hi GM,misfortune hex is not mind affecting. It works on any creature that is not immune to curses.
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Fifi knows she is outmatched in water, and instead turns to support the group. She holds her holy symbol high, as she says-"Everlight, let your fire swell our spirits. Let your light guide us to victory!"-holding the positive energy welling up inside her, trying to release it at just the right time.
Ghostwriter wades into the fray and slashes the globster.
Fifi channels.
The globster will attempt to maintain its hold on Orin.
Round 2/3!
Orin (-4 hp, grappled, nauseated, 22 breath)
Vangral
Fifi
Patros (24 breath remaining)
Ghostwriter
Globster (-35 hp, grappler)
Toral
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Vangral can do little in this situation. The creature doesn't have a mind for him to hex. It is not undead. He's pretty useless with the sword at his waist and will be even more so in water.
All he can do is encourage his comrades-in-arms. "Keep it up, fellows! You're doing quite well," he calls out.
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Hi GM,misfortune hex is not mind affecting. It works on any creature that is not immune to curses.
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The spiritual weapon of force attacks the creature!
[Ooc]I did not for the CMB roll, was there another place I missed it?
Toral's spiritual weapon continues prodding at the creature from one side, while Ghostwriter unleashes a barrage of attacks that tear the globster into tiny little pieces.
With a gasp, Orin floats to the surface.
---
Anything of value has long since decomposed, and even the arcane sigils inscribed in the walls are barely legible.
of evocation focus that might allow two individuals to communicate across great distances.
Water fills the entirety of the northern part of this chamber, made of unfinished stone. Two wide cracks in the northeastern section of the wall connect into a single widening tunnel.
The tunnels continue for much longer than any of you can naturally hold your breath.
The water hardly stirs in here, and as a result, the layer of mud along the ground has preserved several tracks that Toral, Orin, and Patros spots.
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Vangral applauds as the strange creature is torn to pieces. "Bravo, everyone, bravo! It wasn't pretty, but it was well done."
"Hmm...those sigils signify communications...and distance...It looks like you could talk to someone quite far away while you were in this room. I wonder if I can activate it..."
Vangral thinks there must be some kind of control mechanism nearby, maybe a magic circle of some kind that would be the interface for all this raw magic.
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"Hey, look at these tracks! You dentify a barefooted dwarf as well as a variety of distended humanoid tracks and impressions left by clawed feet. In places the tunnel’s walls shows fresh signs of breakage, suggesting something large must have squeezed through recently." he says and points in the direction.
Toral follows the tracks.
The tracks lead in and out of the tunnels, and they go to the west of the flooded room.
The walls of this room are lined with steel bookshelves bolted into the polished stone. Books rest comfortably against each other, each given ample room to be removed without risk of damaging the contents within. Two black leather chairs next to the western wall are positioned around an ostentatious wooden table supporting a single glass tumbler.
This library contains the darkest and most depraved material of Thurl’s collection, the contents of which go beyond amateur curiosity or even detached academic study. Each book details obscene Abyssal rituals, diagrams illustrating with a torturer’s morbid precision the anatomy of scores of creatures, untold annotations, and even decades of tables that closely resemble a shopkeeper’s ledgers.
There are two identical, reinforced wooden doors along the western wall. The tracks lead to the southern door.
First, Toral finds Thurl has experimented for years in the creation of Abyssal hybrids—dissecting demon corpses, sewing pieces back together, soldering and animating them with essence derived from Abyssal larvae, and often discarding imperfect creations. Annotations and notes scattered across a dozen volumes reference how he has “devised a technique to rival the creative power of Lamashtu’s womb,” “gone beyond the limited theories he purchased from Aslynn,” and even “discovered how to harness the power of the marilith.”
In addition, the ledgers seem to track fluctuations in the price of larvae, the souls of those condemned to the Abyss, which everyone recognizes as valuable planar trade goods. In fact, the texts indicate that Thurl actively participated in the larvae trade.
As Toral calls out his discoveries to the team, Valais becomes increasingly unsettled by the descriptions of Thurl’s experiments, and the revelation about the larvae’s use in animating a construct cause her to withdraw emotionally in quiet introspection as she begins to question her existence and how much of her is still the Pathfinder she once was.
Several drawers in the bottom of the southern bookshelf contain 20 bottles of fine liquor as well as several potions for emergency use: an oil of magic fang, two oils of magic weapon, a potion of cat’s grace, a potion of fox’s cunning, and a potion of cure moderate wounds. Each bottle of alcohol represents a fine vintage from somewhere in Absalom, and each bottle is worth 50 gp on average. Finally, a masterwork battleaxe is mounted on a bracket near the stairs.
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Toral shakes his head.
“This dwarf has to be found and immediately killed!!“
After seeing the findings he looks at Valais.
“Don’t be too harsh to yourself. You are a Pathfinder! We will find a way to help you! Maybe we can find the rest of your body afajn!“
Toral and the others check the doors for traps.
Then Toral opens the northern door.
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The walls here are polished and smooth, unlike the stone block construction elsewhere. The floor bears a strange symbol of concentric circles and compasslike stars, and the entire carving glows with a steady, red light. Writing covers much of the walls, some of it in dark blue charcoal and the rest in deep red paint. A shallow tray along the north wall holds several sticks of steel-gray chalk.
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Fifi is glad the danger in the pool is over, and she chuckles-"Well, the tengu duo had it under control anyway!"-with a big smile.
However, as Toral unveils the activities related to Thurl that took place here, her smile turns to a scowl, as she says-"Death for such a despicable man would be mercy. We must capture him, and let him face judgement. All Pathfinders sent on missions by him must be accounted for, and all experiments he may have walking around this plane need to be found and brought down."-she says as she tries to recomfort Valais too.
"Sister, fret not, for you are not alone in your endeavor. We are here to help, and to correct what was done to you. I have seen the Society pull off great feats, and we will make an effort to help you after this is over."-she says hugging her, her body exceptionally warm and tender.
When entering the last room, she scans for evil with her divine sense, checking if there are any evil creatures invisible.
There are no auras of evil strong enough to be a creature, but there is a faint, lingering aura of evil around the circles, as if an evil creature used to be there.
The writing is a recent series of exchanges someone - presumably Thurl - had with someone named Aslynn, who has maintained a business partnership for many years prior.
Most of the correspondence involves the two haggling over prices and the exchange of goods. One particular passage in the southeastern corner stands out as different from the others.
The contact I told you about warned me that dark days are coming for Nerosyan. He has advised me to leave in all haste.
And you believe him?
I have little choice. I have much to gain by acting on this knowledge and everything to lose if it’s true.
You are so quick to trust someone you have only known for a matter
of months—especially one such as he.If I didn’t know better, I’d say you sound jealous. Heh.
My sisters would take offense at your calling me jealous, and even
I believe you are taking liberties. I value our relationship, runecarved one, so I tell you this free of charge. Even if you follow his advice, guard yourself well. You are preparing to abandon your cover, and your so-called friends are known to dislike being duped.Trust me. I know. I heard what happened in Varisia. Look, I know what I’m doing, and I think I can trust this one. He doesn’t lie all of the time, you know.
Exactly. He tells the truth often enough to make you believe his
other lies.And if he is lying, I’ll lock him up for another ten thousand years. Just remember our bargain. If I don’t find those reagents waiting for me in the usual place, we’ll have words.
But of course, Thurl. You know how to contact me.
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"I would wager that Aslynn is Thurl's contact on the other side, the one getting him his...special ingredients. But, it looks like he had another source, at least for information and that 'person' warned him away," Vangral says.
"Interesting. I know where the blue writing is coming from," he says, taking one of the sticks of chalk as a sample. "But I wonder what the source of the red writing is. Blood? Magic?"
He'll investigate it, as well, though he has little skill in investigating such things.
"It's a figure of speach, Vaultkeeper and even if it wasn't, no I would not wager THAT on such a petty thing," he says, speaking to his little doll, apparently and answering a question no on else heard.
Vangral notes the steel blue color of the chalk matches the color of the blue writing on the wall.
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Fifi is very intrigued by the chalk and the magical correspondence system, but she leaves a good enough distance from the circle, as Toral points out it can trap outsiders like herself. She laughs and says-"Wait you guys think we can write and get an answer? My immediate instinct is to tell her to come forth and face the light, but that might not be useful for our current investigation. If Orin has as much eloquence in writing as he does in person, I think it'd be useful to dupe this Aslynn. Maybe ask her where we can meet her? And then ambush her in another mission!"-seemingly forgetting about the seriousness of the situation.
"Oh but what about Ghostwriter? Writing is in his name! Maybe this task is best suited to him?"-she says wondering out loud. Perceptive party members might catch she's trying to lighten the mood, perhaps for Valais, the whole group, or herself.
A response manifests as bloody ink that appears to seep directly from the walls, dripping slightly before drying.
How are you, Prince of Sigils?
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Fifi is marveled at the reply, as her eyes shine, her plan having worked! She says-"Ooh, if Prince of Sigils is a nickname he hates, then maybe put something like 'I may be in danger, but this is serious! Address me by my rightful name instead of that accursed nickname!'"-as she laughs.
She tries her best to make Valais laugh.