"I would be fine with destroying it. We would be doing a favor for the Iomedae followers so they can reclaim this place.
I think Gabsen is right. Ranged attacks would be the way to go.
But, that can wait. I imagine we have a more intelligent adversary in here somewhere."
Cetan nods and retreats back through the hallway they came through. He suggests the head through the North hall to try the two doors there.
He inspects both of them for traps.
Cetan feels better about the North door and opens it.
Sigrun shrugs and goes along with leaving the thing where it sits, or stands, or lies. She doesn't really know. It's not very interesting, about the same as if she'd been told a particular rock was alive, but maybe should be killed at some point because it might roll around tripping people eventually.
As though it senses its prey won't simply step into it, the ooze lurches forward, sliding across the floor towards the party. The cube's bulk betrays any sense of stealth however, allowing the party to respond in kind.
Brogann calls upon his magic to hurl his sword at the ooze.
The greatsword flies, (presumably) strikes the ooze, and returns to the wizard's hands.
He then moves back, past Cetan.
"It can move!"
Sigrun backs up, leaving the plan for dealing with the weird thing to the others.
Cetan thinks on gelatinous cubes and begins calling out important details to the team.
I know of these things. Firstly they cannot affect stone or metal. If we were to simply close this door and step away, we could leave it be for now. They are immune to lightning, or as the more civilized folk call it, "electricity." They may not be affected by particularly powerful hits , surrounded for particular advantage , nor precisely targeted in opportunistic places as they have no such features to speak of! They secrete an acid that causes creatures to want to sleep. So, it is probably best we just close that door.
He peers into the door and says Gabsen, please come out of there and close the door on your way!
No problem. I'm no longer a soldier, I pick my own fights.
Gabsen leaves the place and closes the door behind him
The iron door closes with a clank, leaving the cube trapped inside. A chemical odor can be detected from the other side as its acidic bulk presses against the barrier, but to no avail—it is effectively trapped.
Feeling confident that the door is not booby trapped, Cetan opens it and looks into the room. An old cast-iron furnace and a pile of coal occupy the corners of the cramped chamber. Ash and fallen rubble clutter the area around the furnace where the chimney above has collapsed.
Seated on the floor next to the furnace is a young man, bound and gagged. He is dressed in filthy clothes, and his pale skin and straw blonde hair are matted with coal dust. He squints against the light, his eyes first filled with fear before resolving into something resembling desperate hope. He begins to moan through his gag.
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Sky Voice will push past Cetan and approach with caution. "Be still let me remove that gag and give you some water." Sky Voice will remove the gag and than hold his waterskin to the young mans mouth.
"Be calm, tell us who you are and why you have been bound here. We can help you if you help us."
Cetan watches as Sky Voice pushes past him.
Hmm, I better let him do most of the talking. They look much more like each other than me.
He simply adds We are here to help. We are not of this place.
Brogann waits while the Aasimar tends to the prisoner.
Is the prisoner anyone that Brogann recognizes? While Brogann is not a native of Truneau, he has been in the town for about six months.
Sigrun pokes around the room some more then checks outside in the hallway for anyone approaching.
"If there is a living captive here, this place must be in use by someone often up to the present. We should be ready in case they come back while we're here."
The man accepts a drink of water from Sky Voice, his expression torn between hope and fear. After the first swig, he pulls greedily from the skin, but begins coughing. Once the fit is over, he focuses more intently on the party. "Brogann, Sigrun, Gabsen, thank the gods it's you!"
His voice makes the connection in your heads. Although his face is swollen, bruised, and covered in filth, this is Othdan Dantud, a young swineherd from Trunau. He had been missing for a couple weeks, with most in town assuming that the lad had left with the last caravan in pursuit of a life out from under the constant threat of annihilation.
"Othdan, is it?
It looks like you were a prisoner here. Can you tell us who captured you, and why?"
Sky Voice will look to the group for approval putting his hand on his dagger. If recieved he will cut or untie the boys bonds whichever will cause him less harm.
Brogann will nod to Sky Voice.
"Go ahead and untie him."
Sky Voice will untie and or cut loose the boy. While the others are talking to the boy, Sky Voice will take out some rations and offer them to the boy as well as continuing to offer his waterskin.
Cetan steps out of the way for the three he named to gain access.
All of you know this man?
Othdan accepts Sky Voice's rations and chews on them as he relates his story. "I was snooping around here one night, looking for err... treasure. Then the next thing I know, I'm on the ground and the back of my head is on fire. It was too dark to get a good look at him, but I'm pretty sure he was half-orc. Somebody brings me food and water every so often, but I was blindfolded, so I couldn't see them either. I did hear somebody though, a couple somebodies in the room next to this one, I believe. I get snippets, but I can't ever make out what they're saying on account of the language. All I know is that it ain't Common."
Seeing as how he is the one who isn't familiar with this man, Cetan figures he is a good candidate to push on him for accurate information.
He laughs vigorously to demonstrate that he's not buying it.
Treasure. Indeed. Why were you really here?
Othdan slumps, somehow looking more pathetic than earlier. "Alright, you win. I came out here because Mirabelle Browne told me she'd meet me out here for..." He trails off. "It's humiliatin', is what it is. I'm stumblin' about in the dark, whisperin' her name and then I get smacked in the back of the head."
Brogann is quite understanding of the young man.
"As bad as it seems, the trouble that befell you may be to our advantage.
A half-orc and at least one other talking in an unfamiliar language.
Did it sound like this?"
Brogan speaks a few Giant phrases.
"Or this?"
He speaks a few Orc phrases.
"If they didn't kill you already, then they are keeping you alive. Which means they will come back again to feed you at some point."
He addresses the others.
"We have not exactly been subtle here. When the captor returns to the Plague House, they will see that we have come through.
So I might suggest that we take up position outside; catch them off-guard before they are alerted by the evidence of our visit. We might want to keep searching the building, but when we are done, I'd suggest finding a good ambush spot. Unless anyone else has a better idea."
"I... I think the first?" Othdan replies. "It's hard to hear through the walls."
For the first time many hear Cetan laugh, a deep below escapes him.
Ah yes, of course. Every tribe has Braves that sneak out for the same when they come of age. It's how we perpetuate after all.
He then stops to listen to Brogann.
An ambush is a fine idea, though it would be good to know how many might return.
He turns back to the young man.
Only a couple? You're sure not more?
Othdan nods. "I only ever heard the two voices."
Cetan looks at the others, somewhat unsure.
It's a gamble, but it stands to reason we ought to only have to deal with those two.
So let's not waste time. Maybe we still can surprise them
"They spoke the Giant tongue? What kinds are around here? Can't be anything bigger than an ogre or stone to be able to fit in here."
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Sigrun smirks at the sneaking off stuff. She finds it very odd the old, burned out building seems to be the best anyone can come up with for trysts on the down low. She's seen little to suggest people in Trunau have any taste for danger mixed with their sex, so the choice reeks of desperation to her. It reinforces her view that, if one isn't Ulfen, it's best to be Varisian because they too are sensible. Not that she knows much about it all firsthand. When you're the daughter of a terrifying rumored witch, you don't get such offers.
"We should try it. I wonder how long we might have to wait though."
Considering where the boy has been kept, she doubts he can tell them anything about time of day for his meals, or even if they were daily. Time would drag for him, making his estimates bad, and there is no natural light. She doesn't even bother asking.
Okay we're going to untie you but we really need you to stay hidden. They could be back in five minutes or five days, but until we leave it's best you're not out in the open when they approach the complex.
He turns to the party.
Let's very quickly clear the last rooms, then we'll establish a good position to watch and wait...
This once-grand flagstone hall is filed with statues of different celestial creatures in every corner. An old fire pit in the center of the room is bordered on all sides by moth-eaten bedrolls, while shovels, picks, and other digging equipment lie strewn about a shallow tunnel bored into the northeastern wall. The ceiling above the tunnel has collapsed, leaving a hole open to the sky above a pile of burnt rubble.
The reek of rotting flesh fills the room, and its source is clear: the body of male half-orc, partially buried beneath the rubble.
Oh... Cetan frowns and holds his hand to his nose.
After getting over the stench he's able to free up a hand with which to yank the body out.
Turning it over so the face is up, he asks Any of you recognize this one?
Sigrun takes a look at the body when it's freed. Her interest is in the amount of time the half orc has been dead.
"This is the busiest burned out dump I've ever seen. Seems people can't leave it alone."
Although the half-orc's face does not spark recognition with any of the party, he did seem to die with most of his possessions. In addition to a suit of sturdy chainmail, his pockets hold a wand , a fine silver dagger, a red gold holy symbol depicting a bloody double axe, and six gems of polished black onyx.
Hmm, this half-orc was well equipped. Let me see that wand... I may be able to identify the power it holds.
Cetan holds it out in front of his face on the flat of one hand, while gesticulating at it with the other.
Brogann looks at the holy symbol, but does not recognize it.
"Not someone I recognize from town. We should bring back the body to see if anyone else knows him."
Probably an orc "god", as the double axe is one of their favorite weapons. A bloodily effective one.
"We can ask around in town. Priests might know."