Peeking his head around the corner, Garret sees his friends converging on the remaining foe. Not willing to chance an errant spell, the sorcerer calls upon magic missiles which strike the skeleton unerringly.
“Hey! Leave the stupid kid alone! He’s with me!” Zsofia lets loose with a wild haymaker as the skeleton steps away from her.
Wordlessly, Silvia steps to where she can get a clear shot before unloading on the skeleton.
A veritable storm of blade, fist, spell, and bullet sees the skeletal warrior ushered from its horrid unlife into Pharasma's embrace.
Upon inspection, the skeleton's gear is clearly far from new but well maintained--in particular the longbow of polished yew, its
-Mswk chain shirt
-85 arrows (formerly 90, but the ones fire shattered on the stone walls of the dungeon or had be broken upon extraction from your flesh)
-+1 seeking longbow
The zombified dwarf, Trondus, bears little save for the charred remnants of a burial shroud-turned-toga, and a silver ring engraved with runes of warding and defense.
-Ring of Protection +2
The spectral Cythariel left behind nothing save perhaps unpleasant memories.
With the clamor of battle ended, you have the time to notice the murals that line this large hall--though they are chipped and weathered badly enough that the exact subjects they portray can only be guessed at. An alcove in the far wall holds a pedestal. A statue likely stood here once, but a pair of horse legs broken off halfway up from the hooves are all that remains now, with even the rubble gone. The floor is uneven, sagging in the center, while a pair of ajar doors face each other on either side of the hall.
Ketra clutches a hand to her forehead as the fight concludes, lowering herself to the ground. The impact of the ghost touching her still lingers, leaving her thoughts and feelings seem like they're coming to her from behind a thick bank of fog. "Uh... I think... I'm not doing well. Anyone know what's wrong?"
Sanduro runs over and drops to the ground next to Ketra. Pulling out the healer's satchel, he asks for a bit of Pharasma's guidance and peers at his friend, looking for a sign of what might be ailing her.
Slinging her rifle on her shoulder, Silvia joins Sanduro at Ketra's side, her brows furrowed in worry. "What's happened, Ketra? What do you feel like?"
Garret looks over with concern at Ketra, but he doesn't know how to help her, other than saying, "I have the feather of healing if it comes to that."
He moves towards the center of the room and keeps watch as she is tended to by those who know far more about medicine than he. Garret looks into the side rooms from a distance, though he does not enter, and remains alert for any new threats.
Ketra shakes her head to Silvia "Not... sure really. Everything's sho... sad somehow..." She's clearly starting to slur her words. "The ghost's gone though? Gone gone? I think... she tried to get me killed. When I was little... not right now... but a long time ago probably."
Jando's brows are knit in an expression of concern at Ketra's state, and he turns to survey the broken remnants of the skeleton. "The worst possibly undead to fight are the ones who used to be people you know--especially when they remember you too."
Garret's vigilance pays off as well--in the southern chamber he finds a large basin, perhaps intended for ritual ablutions but now thickly filmed with dust. A sweep of magical detection turns up an aura hidden in the dust, and on investigation the halfling finds a small rose pearl that is the aura's source.
Retrieving the pearl, Garret comes over to the others and says, 'I found this pearl--it has a magical aura, but I cannot immediately determine its function."
Turning to Sanduro, he pulls out the feather of healing and asks, "Does this require the use of my feather? She seems pretty badly affected."
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Retrieving the pearl, Garret comes over to the others and says, 'I found this pearl--it has a magical aura, but I cannot immediately determine its function."
Distracted by Ketra’s condition, Sanduro is unable to identify the stone. “Sorry, Garret. The aura it gives off seems vaguely familiar, like I should know what it does, but I’m drawing a blank. Let’s try it again after we’ve gotten some rest; between us, we should be able to figure it out.”
Ketra shakes her head to Silvia "Not... sure really. Everything's sho... sad somehow..." She's clearly starting to slur her words. "The ghost's gone though? Gone gone? I think... she tried to get me killed. When I was little... not right now... but a long time ago probably."
The druid looks at Ketra again, his concern obvious. “I’m glad she failed. And she’s not going to succeed now. We’ll figure this out.” I have no idea how we’re going to figure this out. “Silvia, does the General of Vengeance grant you any abilities that might help?”
Turning to Sanduro, he pulls out the feather of healing and asks, "Does this require the use of my feather? She seems pretty badly affected."
Sanduro eyes the feather, clearly tempted. “Well, it would almost certainly do the job - the magic in that feather is more powerful than any spell I can cast. It can heal almost any condition you can imagine. But you can only use it once. If I have time to sleep and pray, I can ask Pharasma to grant me a lesser spell that would probably be enough, but… I don’t know if we ought to wait. Not to mention that we’re all wounded, and I don’t think the healing wand has enough power left to heal us all.”
He turns back to Ketra, scanning for any sign that she’s getting better, or worse.“Ketra, do you feel like it’s getting worse?”
Ketra shakes her head "I don't think it's getting worse. Just like, I don't know, like I'm hung over or something." She gets up on one knee, pauses, then rises to her feet. "Or like I'm seeing the world through the bottom of one of Pa's big glasses. All, distorted like." She shakes her head.
"I can keep going. Though we might want to heal up first."
"Perhaps we should secure one of these rooms as best we can and spend some time resting and recovering before we travel further," suggests Garret.
"Not today, I'm afraid," Silvia says, shaking her head. "I can ask him tomorrow morning, but right now there's not much I can do for anything beyond physical wounds."
Ketra closes her eyes "Well, I wouldn't say no to resting. I don't think any of these undead would have sent word on that we're here. Still, the tomb might not be that safe either. I guess." She sways a little and then leans against the wall. "I'd also be okay with pressing on for a bit longer before we rest more."
Sanduro gives Ketra a look full of doubt. “OK. How about this: Let’s see what’s immediately on the other side of each of those doors. If there aren’t more undead monstrosities ravenous for our flesh, we’ll secure them as best we can and rest in here. The hallways we came through only go back to the entrance - which is still trapped, right? So we’ll hear it if someone, or something, comes after us that way.”
Absent an objection, he turns Zsofia incorporeal again and sends her to peek through the door on the north wall .
Peeking through the doorway, Zsofia sees a landing that in another world had held the taxidermied remains of a gorgon. While numerous wires hang down from the ceiling no such beast is present. Instead the rubble of a shattered stone bench has been shoved against the far wall, and a filthy staircase tracked with much and detritus leads down into the earth.
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Once it's clear the party intends to rest for the evening (it had been a long day already, after all), Silvia taps into her divine connection to heal the party's wounds.
Ketra looks around a bit while Zsofia is scouting. By the time the phantom returns, she's frowning. "You know, I thought I'd recognize this place better since we explored our way out of it back when we were in the Boneyard. But somehow it looks much less familiar than I expected... or maybe that's just the weird thing that ghost did to me talking." She makes her way over to the . "As much as I'd like to start napping right now, maybe we could move this pedestal over to block the door leading to the stairs going down? Not sure if I could sleep with the door to who knows what so close..."
“That sounds like a very good idea, Ketra.”
Sanduro helps Ketra move the pedestal (or tries to, anyway) while Zsofia peeks through the door to the south .
With a great deal of grunting and dragging, the pedestal is scrapped across the floor to a position where it blocks the door to the stairwell from opening. You then settle in to rest, though the darkness of the tomb is far from comfortable or comforting.
The light outside grows dimmer and the shadows longer as somewhere outside the fog-dome the sun marches across the sky. Nothing accosts you, and nothing stirs out in the ruins of Roslar's Coffer; this is both a relief and a concern, for while the lack of foes is welcome there is also no sign of Mirhet.
More hours pass without issue, save one: a faint scraping on stone that can be heard from the other side of the stone door. Tool or claw, it's impossible to tell, but after a few minutes the sound stops, and does not resume.
When the morning comes, Silvia is already deep in prayer, asking for a sliver of Ragathiel's divine warmth. She uses that blessing as soon as Ketra begins to stir, relieving a measure of the ghost's lingering injury.
Garret awakes feeling refreshed and renewed, if still a bit somber at the fate of his beloved town. He starts puttering around and getting himself put together for the journey ahead, looking with concern in Ketra's direction.
Sanduro wakes up on his own and spends an hour in prayer to Pharasma before calling Zsofia back. He asks for and receives a spell to help restore Ketra, as well as some changes to his lesser spells .
3rd—call lightning (DC 16), cure moderate wounds, greater magic fang
2nd—aggressive thundercloud[ACG] (DC 15), barkskin, crypt burning sands, lesser restoration
1st—cure light wounds, longstrider, produce flame, [open slot]
0 (at will)—detect magic, guidance, read magic, stabilize
Once Silvia has given Ketra her General’s blessing, he attempts to finish the job with the power given him by the Lady of Graves.
He proceeds to cast his usual daily spells - extended longstrider on himself and extended greater magic fang on Zsofia.
“Goooood morning!”
Once she hears about the scratching sound in the night, the phantom glides - incorporeal - over to the door and peeks through again.
The fog begins to clear a little for Ketra with the application of Silvia and Sanduro's magic. Still, by the time Ketra is running through her morning preparations, dancing through her Routines, she still feels a little like she's dreaming. Her thoughts keep going back to that vivid vision she'd seen. Looking down on a little girl who hadn't even realized the cruelty visited upon her. The feeling of cowardice, the thrill of a successful trick. Ketra can't help but shiver, shoving the unwelcome memory away, drowning it in the rhythms of her movements.
Once she's done she returns to the group "I feel about as good as you'd expect. Let's keep going, and get ready to cut through whatever other undead horrors are waiting for us." Once the others are set, she helps move the pedestal back out of place.
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Shaking off her own malaise, the phantom peeks through the blocked-off doorway but sees no creatures.
There are a few very small patches of slightly yellow dust on the walls and floors that you don't remember seeing yesterday.
This isn't dust at all, strangely. It appears to be very similar to pollen spores.
"So, ready to go then? There were some noises during the night, so maybe whatever is down there is going to be ready for us." Ketra draws her mithril knife and magical dagger.
Head still stuck partway through the door, Zsofia twists so she can keep looking into the next room while her mouth remains on the same side as the rest of the party.
"Whatever made those noises must've gone back down the stairs. Nobody's home now."
Sanduro finishes tying up his bedroll and bends down to pick up his pack, then stops and crouches down, peering at a spot on the floor near his pack.
"Huh." He turns slowly, scanning the floor in a circle around him, then stands up for a closer look at the nearest wall.
"So this is ... interesting. Have any of you noticed these patches of yellow dust on the walls and floor? I think there are just a few of them, and they aren't very big, but I don't think they were there when we went to sleep. And I don't think that's dust -- they look like pollen spores to me."
”Pollen spores, you say,” says Garret, going over and having a look. ”How could this have gotten here while we slept? Puzzling, but we have encountered some unusual flora lately.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Garret guess up for the day and says, ”Well, let’s keep an eye out for any suspicious foliage,” as he prepares to follow the others deeper into the tomb.
"Pollen? Definitely not from our side. You think they could have blown in from below somehow?" Ketra shakes her head "You don't think... somehow... this version of the tomb also has a hole leading to gremlin land? Probably not, right?"
"You think the spores are anything to worry about?"
Shrugging again, Garret answers, ”I have no idea. Let’s not inhale them, though, just in case.”
Forewarned is forearmed--at least, that's what you tell yourselves as you form up and descend the grimy stone stairs into the darkness below. A short flight (occasionally dusted with more of that strange pollen) leads you to a landing and what was clearly intended to be a showroom of sorts. The wall is lined with faded paintings for the silouettes of various weapons: rapiers, lances, longswords, conyers falchion, and even a warhammer can all be seen. Each has a set of pegs to hold the weapon and a small plaque beneath the display but all are empty or blank. There is a doorway leading south, but it is entirely blocked off by smooth featureless stone of a different color from the rest of the tomb's walls. The western wall and part of the ceiling appear to have collapsed, filling the area with rubble though there does seem to be a space to get through on one side.
The sound of sobbing immediately draws your attention; seeking the source, you spy a hunched human-sized figure in thick robes of dark grey. They are crouched down where the gap in the rubble starts, and while the thick robes obscure what ancestry they might be the choking, gasping sobs that shake their body sound male.
Garret creates glowing orbs of lights to illuminate the room (Dancing Lights) and looks around carefully for any hidden threats. He gently addresses the sobbing person, saying, "Greetings, sorrowful one, I am Garret. Who might you be, and for what reason do you cry?"
Concerned about the spores, Ketra makes sure to affix a cloth over her mouth and nose to at least not be breathing them in directly. She follows the others down, relying on her darkvision until Garret creates the dancing lights. While Garret addresses the hunched figure, Ketra looks around the room for any other dangers that may be lying in wait. She strongly doubts that anyone found deep in this place has good intentions.
Silvia, similarly suspicious, watches their backs.
Silvia and Ketra keep an eye on their surroundings but don't note anything strange--at least, nothing other than the robed figure sobbing in the corner of a half-collapsed tomb chamber. The figure gives no sign of having heard Garret, or indeed having noticed any of you at all, and the jerking sobs continue unabated.
Garret sends the globes to light up the facing of the sobbing creature so they can get a better look at it, then he cast Detect Magic to see if there is more going on here that meets the eye.
Ketra stays with Garret. She whispers from behind her impromptu mask "I think they're blocking the only way further in. Unless someone's got a lasso, we're going to have a really hard time getting past without disturbing them."
Garret's orbs of lights drift closer, illuminating the figure better--but the thick, shapeless robes still obscure detail, though you catch a glimpse of the shape of head and arms, face buried in hands as the sobs continue. You get the impression that the figure is tall and lanky, though not abnormally so.
Garret's light also reveals to Ketra & Silvia's sharp eyes that this room is much more heavily dusted with that yellowish pollen--including on the sobbing figure's robes, though the source of the spores isn't clear.
“Whatever these spores are coming from, I don’t like them getting thicker as we get deeper into the tomb.” Following Ketra’s lead, he wraps a scarf over the lower half of his face, covering his mouth and nose.
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Unsure of exactly what might be going on with the figure, Ketra decides to probe its reactions a little and hopefully get it to move out of the way. She rummages through her pack for a moment and then draws out a single elaborately inscribed playing card - the two of clubs. She flicks the card across the room to strike fall against the far wall. A lanky kobold springs forth from the card. She mentally directs the kobold to dance around the figure and try to grab its attention.
The figure shifts at to look at the capering kobold, the hood falling back to reveal a clean-shaven human head. Masculine, neither young nor old, the age is hard to place but their eyes are wide and staring as they reach out a hand with long thin fingers towards the illusion.
"Hnng, hhnnnnnng," they wheeze, as they trying to speak but unable. The hand pulls back uncertainly, their head tilted to the side in puzzlement though their expression barely changes. After a second, the figure turns to look at Ketra though they remain hunched. Their hand stretches towards the dancer in a pleading gesture, the other clutching at their throat.
"Hnnng? Hhnnng!"
"Thirsty? Is that it?" Ketra rummages through her pack and pulls out a half-filled waterskin. Rather than getting close to this afflicted individual, she tosses the waterskin over. With all the spores in the air and the seemingly human figure having likely breathed a lot of them in, she hopes this might make a difference. At least to the point that they'll be able to talk.
"Drink, please."
Sanduro watches the wheezing man’s reaction to Ketra’s thrown waterskin, then glances at Zsofia and returns her to ectoplasmic form, just in case.
“If I were stuck down here alone, with no water or any other supplies, and less than a couple of hundred feet from the entrance,” he murmurs to Garret, “I don’t think I’d pick this spot to rest overnight instead of just running for the exit.”
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Zsofia oozes back into physical form and grabs Sanduro’s waterskin from his pack. “Hey, that reminds me! I’m pretty thirsty too.” The phantom takes a long pull on the waterskin and swallows with a loud gulp.
After a few moments, she is standing in a puddle of water, which has run slowly through her ectoplasmic body. The phantom puts the waterskin back into the pack and pretends not to notice.
Silvia, somehow growing more perplexed by the second, just continues to watch.