Doc wafts the potion to her nose and then stoppers it. She stalks towards Angry and thrusts it at him, "Drink." She gathers up the ink and instinctively fixes her hair in the mirror. "Ugh. Needs work."
"Let's get those bodies over to the guards and see if they make good on their word."
Chatty will help carry/drag one.
Feeling parched anyways, the dwarf didn’t think twice before taking the vial and downing it. To his amazement, the deep claw marks on his body faded, leaving naught but thin lines as if though he had been scratched by a large kitten. ”Thanks.” He said, meaning it.
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Vex wipes the dagger clean with a grimace.
"Guess I should have trusted your call on it," she mutters grudgingly to both Chatty and Doc. "Could have sworn she was telling the truth... Your arm alright?" The last at Doc, it seems.
Vex nods to Chatty and takes the other end of the body he's starting to carry. "I got legs. Two others want to grab a body?"
The blonde-maned man gratefully accepts the chainshirt and hastily pulls it on. He nods at Vex's question and grabs the feet of one of the other doppelgänger to begin dragging it back towards the guards.
Blue eyed the new corpse as Chatty and Vex began to hoist it off the ground. So quickly had they all succumbed to mob mentality on the doppelganger. ”No,” Blue told himself, ”this is the second one you’ve encountered that was performing horrible experiments on people. We were in the right here.”
Blue stepped over to help Rook with the second body. ”If anyone is having doubts,” he said with a grunt, ”about our actions here. Remember, this one actively tried to mislead us in an effort to gain our trust. No doubt any one of us was going to wind up strapped to a table again.”
With no obvious threat, the rogue becomes talkative on the short walk back down the hallway.
Feeling parched anyways, the dwarf didn’t think twice before taking the vial and downing it.
"Speaking of potions, did you know that most potions are actually clear? And that wizards and clerics often dye their potions using powdered insects?"
"Guess I should have trusted your call on it."
"I would never steer you wrong."
"If anyone is having doubts about our actions here..."
"This is not the place to have doubts, my friend. It's kill or be killed. Don't forget, even these guards we are seeking sanctuary with shot first. We are lucky their aim was not better."
Doc grunts and rolls her eyes at Chatty's lies about potions but she doesn't bother to correct him. She merely helped drag corpses.
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With two doppelgangers bodies in tow, the group approaches the barricade again. Though the three crossbow wielding guards are still there, the captain is standing at the edge of the barricade looking out. “From the sounds of what was coming down the hall I wasn’t sure if we would see the group of you coming back.” eyeing the group head to toe; “But from the looks of it, you came back relatively the same. I’m not sure where you crawled out from in that boiler room, but from what you can see from this hall everything has gone to hell. And those things” pointing to the doppelgangers; “doesn’t scratch the surface. But we can talk about that more once you make it through the gate.”
The door to the East opens and three guards appear, swords drawn. Unless they are hidden the guards move and take your weapons. The captain speaks up; “Don’t resist, do what they say. We take much needed precautions behind the wall.”
With the three guards with swords and three crossbows aimed on the party, you are clearly outnumbered and out classed. Resistance seems like it would end in failure.
In the doorway you see two women standing waiting, both have a Spiraling Comet hanging low on their chest by a piece of twine.
You give up you weapon and are welcomed by one of the women in the doorway.
“The Mother of Souls welcomes you. Please come and strip. Your belongings will be cleansed and returned.”
You are welcomed into the first of two adjoining rooms. Servants approach and carefully take your belongings with gloved hands. They place them in a large basket and fold your clothing placing them on top. If there is any hesitancy; “Don’t be shy, what is good for one is good for the whole. Eyes will not wonder. No judgements will be made on the past. You are safe now.”
Once naked, you are given a sponge bath and dried. A chalky like powder is dusted on your skin; “It’s for the mites and lice.” Then you are given clean white outfits, exactly like those that you found yourselves in when you woke in the cells below. Your hair is brushed, and your nails are cleaned and trimmed.
Moving south into the second of the two rooms, you are greeted by a man and a woman, elven blood runs through them, though not fully. They give you a full checkup, applying ointment to any injuries, rashes, or dry skin. They look into your eyes making a bright light appear on a marble and quickly vanishing it.
One by one you are all released through the door and you find yourselves on the southern side of the barricade.
Before Chatty is released, the half-elf man hands him two small berries. “Before you go, you must eat and drink this.” he finishes as he hands him a small cup with what appears to be water in it. The man waits expectantly.
The captain meets you. “Welcome, I am Captain York. And this is the Refuge of Dreamers.”
Chatty hands over his dagger and sap but tucks his shiv into an inconspicuous pocket in his backpack. If the guards find it, he'll say he forgot it was even a weapon and hands it over without protest.
He thoroughly enjoys the attention he receives by being bathed and the feeling of being clean after the ordeals of the last few hours is very pleasant. Chatty raises an eyebrow at being singled out and offered berries but he pops them into his mouth and washes them down with the water. He opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue to the half-elf man to show him that the berries were swallowed.
He notes that they found a wooden object with the same spiraling comet that some of the people are wearing on it among some of the refuse and decides it could work in his favor. When getting dressed, he takes the wooden holy symbol of Pharasma and hangs it around his neck.
He does not want to appear to be the leader so he let's another party member answer the captain first.
They don't see it as a weapon, so it would be part of the few items that you have as your belonging.
Just to clarify. They take all of your items. Anything that is stowed away is found when they have you strip and cleaned. They do not allow you to take your items beyond this point. If you roll a sense motive, they said they are going to cleanse your belongings and you believe them.
With a shrug, Bolkvar threw his chain to the ground and raised his hands. Easy come, easy go. What mattered the most was not being perforated with crossbow bolts. Likewise, he stripped, completely unashamed of his nakedness. He did wish, though, that he was one of the long-bearded elders, whose beards were of such a length that even without clothes they were not indecent. It would have come in handy.
The captain meets you. “Welcome, I am Captain York. And this is the Refuge of Dreamers.”
"And I..." He stopped, remembering that he did not even know his own name. "...am pleased to meet ye. To be blunt, how long are we to be detained?"
“I suppose if you were going to kill us, you would not have wasted time letting us get close like this,” Blue said. He set his end of the body down and handed over his meager possessions. The knuckles came off easily enough but when he handed over the wooden symbol, Blue felt a pang in his chest.
”Please take care of that,” he blurted out. A strange wave of embarrassment washed over the man and he stepped into the room to avoid any potential looks his outburst may have garnered.
Blue felt as though the entire bathing and delousing process should have been far more demeaning than it was. And at first it was. But as more and more filth was sloughed off, he began to feel somewhat normal again. The normalcy dissolved, however, when he was given a brand new cloth outfit. “Lovely,” he muttered even as pulling the new clothes on. Admittedly, the clean fabric felt good on his clean skin.
“Welcome, I am Captain York. And this is the Refuge of Dreamers.”
“Thank you. And how many Dreamers are there in this refuge? If you don’t mind me asking?”
Wulfric hands over the chainshirt he only just put on and the jagged shard of metal he carries like a knife with little hesitation but when they demand his medallion he pauses. "That's very important to me..." he says with clear concern, even though he's not entirely certain why. "Surely a simple necklace poses no danger to a group of armed guards?"
Slip is a bit queasy after the group's tangle with the doppelganger, but tries to assure himself that it was necessary. He also relinquishes his sling and rocks. They were more of a nuisance than actually effective: no better than a child's toy in his hands. The only thing that he seems to wish to hold on to is the whistle. He gives it up only after some gentle cajoling.
He feels much better on the other side. It seems...surprising to him to be treated so well, especially after the violence of the last few hours. Or perhaps longer. He didn't know how long it had been since he had been treated with kindness. Maybe it hadn't been too long.
The Refuge of Dreamers. Dreamers...everyone in Slip's group remembered that same awful nightmare. Were others in this place also experiencing bad dreams?
"Thank you, Captain York," Slip says cautiously, waiting to see what York's responses are to Blue and the dwarf. After their questions have been answered, he draws attention to himself with a wave and asks his own.
"Do you have any better sense of what is going on here? Our memories are fractured, and so recollection is difficult."
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Vex's immediate response to the idea that they'd take the meager weaponry and armor that they've found so far is to instantly tense up, her eyes narrowing at the human guardsmen, her lips pressed together primarily so her teeth don't show. She darts a wordless look at the others, perhaps expecting, or hoping, to see her reaction mirrored in resistance there, but when the others acquiesce, even reluctantly, Vex frowns and then lets out a long, controlled exhale.
No point to trying to go it solo. Some days, the tree must bend or it breaks.
...where'd that come from? Vex frowns to herself, shakes it off, and with grim resignation begins unbuckling the catches of her scavenged leather armor.
"Mind you, I want this dagger back," she says shortly to their.... benefactors.
When those with elven extraction set to helping them clean and dress, Vex eyes them uncertainly. But she knows well enough that simply a shared, mingled-heritage is no guarantee of similar thoughts, feelings, or outlook on the world-- Doc alone would be proof of that. She discards the brief impulse to talk to them in the elven tongue and ask quietly of 'York's' intentions.
During the bathing process, Vex fingers old scars on her bared skin, tracing thin lines that mark up her corded forearms, her hands, and on occasion the rest of her body. She can't remember the getting of a single one. It's disconcerting on a level she can't put words to, even if she were as loquacious as Chatty. Is this really her body? It might as well be a stranger's.
When they are finally dressed again-- and Vex can't pretend she doesn't appreciate the sensation of being clean again, though her fingers itch for the dagger's hilt and even the bloody, dirty leather armor.
"Right. So below the boiler there's a chute, and beneath that a few interconnected rooms," she says curtly in response to the Captain's greeting and half-question of earlier. Seemingly without thinking about it, she has settled into something of a parade rest position facing the captain. Her words follow a clipped staccato. "We came to ourselves in cells, locked. One of those shifting bastards was cutting up a woman's corpse. We managed to get out. Ganged up on the shifter. Killed it. It's still downstairs. It tried to get away via another channel that led upwards, but we didn't chance that one. Found the furnace chute instead. The rest you know.
"I'm giving you that intel in good faith. In turn, what can you tell us about what the hell this place is? What any of this is? Not just your refuge-- where the hell are we at all?"
Chatty whispers to his companions, "Refuge of Dreams? Do you think they are connected to the shared dream we experienced? They may have experienced a dream as well. Or they may well be the cause of it. We could be their test subjects for all we know. Don't let your guard down. This whole experience so far is a little too cultish for my taste."
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As you make your way though, those who are aiding in your cleaning and instillation beyond the walls are very friendly and helpful. When met with comments on specific items; Please take care of that,” or “That’s very important to me…” or “Mind you, I want this dagger back,” those aiding smile and respond; “Certainly, all of your belongings will return to you. In fact I would say that they would be returned better than we placed them in the basket.” and they continue on with their duty.
You sense no ill will towards the group from these people, and you trust that they will return all of your belongings once they have been cleansed. Whatever that means…
As Chatty takes the berries and eats them he feels a warmth begin to radiate from within. Suddenly all of the aches and pains since waking are washed away, you feel as if you have eaten a full meal and are satisfied.
Captain York waits until everyone has arrived before starting in; “I know it might seem harsh how you were first treated. But, after dealing with those things,” pointing to the two doppelgangers on the north side of the barricade; “you now understand that we cannot take the risk of allowing one sneak in. Even if it cost the life of an innocent. It is my duty to protect everyone in the Refuge of Dreamers, and that now includes you.”
When ask how long are we to be detained? and how many Dreamers are there in this refuge? Captain York quickly answers; “No one is detained here. Everyone is free to leave. But, you will quickly find this to be the safest place in Briarstone. The 22 survivors that call this place home would all agree.”
Seeing Slips wave, Captain York turns and faces him with a response. Though it doesn’t seem like he picked up on the fact that Slip is deaf; “It’s hard to say what happened here. The building started shaking and everyone started to flee. As I was making my way out I found a small group heading for the chapel and we stayed here. I found a few people who was halfway competent with a weapon and stationed them as guards. We were doing patrols for survivors but ran into… monsters… we lost good people.”
Hearing Vex’s frustration; “You’re right, you are giving me intel in good faith. Just as you are now safe from whatever is out there in good faith.” looking over the group; “You don’t know where you are? This is Briarstone Asylum… you will need to speak with Winter. Winter Klaczka is in charge here, and she could answer more of your questions about this place and what is going on.”
“But you must want to rest first? There will be enough time to talk while we figure things out, time is the only thing we really have here.”
“But you must want to rest first? There will be enough time to talk while we figure things out, time is the only thing we really have here.”
"I think I'm good right now, thanks. Why do you want us to rest so badly? Do you want us to have another nightmare? Are you behind them? And how long does this cleansing take? I'd prefer to wait for our things to be returned before indulging in any more hospitality."
As Doc is being cleansed the effects of her mutagen wear off, potentially startling anyone else in the room. She mumbles to herself, ”I need to work on the formula. Perhaps doppelganger blood isn’t a great catalyst for metamorphosis on other humanoid flesh. No matter.”
Doc is annoyed that the party isn’t important enough to warrant being brought to Winter. She says with no small hint of disdain, ”Why we woke up no less than two hours ago. I may need my beauty sleep but my day has practically just begun. Now, would you kindly bring us to Winter so that she may give us some answers to our questions?”
Bolkvar was tired. Even if he didn't want to sleep, having some rest sounded nice. His head hurt, his muscles ached, and he still didn't know who he was. Just lying down and letting it all go was a good idea, but he didn't see it as being so good that he would fight the others.
Slip watches Captain York's responses carefully, nodding along. So the earthquake theory was correct, at least. What else had happened? Why were there monsters in an asylum? What caused the nightmares? And what had caused their fugue state? So many questions, and so few answers.
This Winter Klaczka seems like she may have some more answers, thankfully. Like Doc, Slip doesn't find himself feeling particularly tired, but he has expended a reasonable amount of his magical energies for the day, or so he thinks. He might be able to offer a bit more healing, but that would be about it before he was resorting to minor mendings and such. Useful, but not fighting-monsters-useful.
Slip still isn't sure that he trusts Captain York, but hostilities seem to have stalled for now. Maybe they could work together. Being safe was nice, at least...
"I am also not tired. But unless we plan to venture back out into the dangers outside this place, relaxation might be nice. Didn't we find some dice? We could play a dice game or two." Slip smiles, trying to offer a different (more encouraging) interpretation of York's statements. Slip also thinks about the viol that the found. He was a rank amateur, but felt like he might be able to squeeze out a halfway passable tune if people were looking for some measure of entertainment.
It might also be nice to meet some other people around here and find out what they know. Once the group finishes their conversation with Captain York, Slip excuses himself to canvas a smattering of the other 22 residents of the Refuge of Dreamers.
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At hearing Chatty’s defensive accusations, Captain York steps up; “Listen here!” with a firm finger to Chatty’s chest; “If you don’t like how things are ran around here you are more than welcomed to try surviving life on the other side of that wall.” turning to put the whole group in view; “Doppelgangers and a few rats are the least of your concerns with the walking nightmares that have been reported. You think the dreams are bad… at least you can wake up from them. GO! Go on if you don’t want to indulge in any more hospitality.” Captain York says with a spit.
Emerging from the double doors to the southwest is a woman wearing all black with a familiar Spiraling Comet hanging around her neck. Rushing over and with a hushed but crack of a whip tone; “What is going on here! We have already frightened children in there that we are trying to calm down and then they hear arguing?” She realizes there are newcomers. “What seems to be the problem?”
Captain York speaks up; “No problem, just coming to a clear understanding of what is and isn’t here.”
“Good.” the woman says; “I am Winter Klaczka, welcome to our refuge. Wherever you came from in Briarstone, it shows me you can take care of yourselves. Or at least that you have a few in your group that can take charge. Which is good.” she says as she walks to the edge of the north barricade.
“We have supplies here. Food, drink, weapons… but we need more as our numbers grow.” turning back to the group she waves a hand towards the group. “Those who join, must also contribute. What is good for one is good for the whole.” turning back north; “We have not explored north of here, too much movement.”
“You may rest here for tonight, but come morning we need to retrieve whatever items we can find. And kill what isn’t helpful.” still looking beyond the wreckage to the north; “We know there is more that way. Offices with supplies, doctor’s office, and showers. Even access to the second level.” she turns back; “There could also be more survivors. But, without more supplies, none of us will survive.”
“What say you? Rest and be on your way, or rest and aid in what is good for the whole?”
You unfortunately do not recall much of anything when they mention Briarstone. It could be the fog that still clouds your mind, or that it is unfamiliar to you.
I will use your Sense Motive during this altercation
Captain York is speaking truth, but is not going to take crap from anyone. As easily as he was willing to let you all stay beyond the walls and potentially die, he is okay sending you back where you came from without any more aid from him.
Winter Klaczka on the other hand needs aid for those who are here, which could include the group. It seems like if you are willing to help them, they are willing to help you. And she did mention food, drink, and weapons. Three things that you have not seen a whole lot of since waking up.
Asrat performs a fancy bow before Winter at the same time giving York side-eye. "My good lady, your Captain merely mistook my inquiries as accusations. My companions' safety is of my utmost concern. A wise woman like you would understand that we would be as suspicious of you as you are of us."
Asrat steps to the side to consult his companions. "I still don't trust them." They're acting too much like I would. He thinks to himself. "When she says she'll kill what isn't helpful, that likely includes us. So we should offer to be helpful...for now. We were probably going to need to head north anyway. If they'll equip us with food and weapons, we should take it. We can escape on our own after that."
"Food? Drink? I'm in." The dwarf said, in response to Chatty. "Doesn't matter if there are ulterior motives. I want both, and this is the only way I can see not having to eat rats and drink rain water."
Blue nodded in approval as Winter went over the details of the Refuge. Things seemed to be nice and orderly, or, as orderly as they could be given the circumstances.
Blue took a deliberate step around Chatty. ”Ebon wings!” He muttered, ”You are aptly named, aren’t you?”
“You mentioned children,” he addressed Winter. ”What sort of asylum is-was Briarstone to have children here?” Blue asked. He held out a hand to the woman in black, “If your people are need, we,” he gave a pointed look to Chatty, ”are willing to do what we can to help. You say you have food and water. Surely, it can’t be enough to hold out, what was it? Twenty-two people? For an extended period of time.”
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Chatty gives Blue a guilty look and holds his arms up, palms out, miming "What?"
Doc looks about the chamber suspiciously, ”Your terms are perfectly cromulent.” Doc didn’t mean it. ”Once we’ve murdered anything unacceptable to the north and absconded with their goods, you will answer our questions.”
Doc answered Blue’s question whether he wanted Doc’s opinion or not, ”Clearly the kind that doesn’t discriminate based on age. Children can suffer the maladies of the mind just as well as adults.”
Slip is taken aback by the explosion of mistrust. He looks frantically from face to face, using the others' gazes as clues of who to follow next. The striking woman in all black--Winter, Slip thinks is her name--seems somewhat nicer than York, but they both mean business. They're both people who can be taken at their word, at least, to the best of Slip's understanding. (Although to be fair, that understanding is somewhat shaken after the most recent encounter with the doppelganger posing as a broken old woman.) Slip misses some of what Winter says when she walks away, and hopes that it isn't too important (or else he'll ask someone else to repeat it later).
"I just want to be helpful," he says timidly. He wants a lot of things, but survival is top of the list. He has this gnawing feeling that demonstrating helpfulness has always been an important way of surviving. So he can do that.
During the whole conversation, one burning question remains in Slip's mind, and he finally voices it.
"Are you unable to leave Briarstone? Are there too many monsters between here and any exits? Or," Slip caught Winter's comment about the children, "Are you staying to protect those who can't leave?"
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Winter nods with approval, and relief, when the group mostly agrees to help with searching for supplies; “Yes, this is Briarstone. It’s a sanitarium. The doctors here endeavored to treat and learn more about diseases of the mind. Briarstone wasn’t a renowned institution, but it was far from the torture pits common folk often make asylums out to be.”
When it is brought up that there are children, Winter shakes her head; “Not all of the survivors are patients. Doctors, orderlies, guards, visitors, and patients are all trapped in here. It is hard to be sure who is who until the meds fully wear off. And then we could have other issues at hand.”
“But we really need supplies. We have people who are wounded and suffering. We have one survivor who is a patient. A grown man with the mind of a child that needs constant attention from the few nurses we have. It’s cold because the broilers are off and our firewood is growing scarce. And yes,” looking towards Blue; “Food is running out. We need to find more. And I apologize for this, but any food that was in your belongings has been confiscated. But it is a cheap price to pay for safety, community, and since you will be going out savaging. Weapons and armor.”
“You are welcome to rest, things have been mentally taxing on everyone. Even if it has only been a few hours since you’ve been at it, things aren’t right. If you want to get out there and see what you can discover to the north, then I will have Captain York show you the armor and weapons that we have.”
“Once you return, I will answer all questions you have. Until then, I have things to tend to.”
Winter and Captain York wait for your response to what is next for the group.
When Winter mentions that their food was confiscated, Chatty glares at her with unbridled hate but keeps quiet.
When she mentions that it is cold, he suddenly realizes that he too is indeed a little chilly. He's been running on adrenaline until now that he had not noticed prior. We could get the boiler running again. But not for their sake. I wonder if corpses could be used as a fuel source. There is no shortage of those.
To the party, "Some of you probably want to recover your spells. But afterwards I say we take what we can and get the hell out of here. If they feel entitled to our food, what do you think they'll confiscate next for the "greater good"? This "cleansing" of theirs feels more like robbery to me. By the way, Winter and the "Captain" haven't told us what role they played in the asylum before the disaster. They very well could be coocoo patients who assumed leadership over the other nutjobs. If they are mentally unwell, I shudder to think what other demands they may come up with. Next they may say they need to sacrifice one of us to sate some tentacled beast. And I am not okay with that."
”I’m hesitant to leave a large group in such an obviously dangerous place. I also wonder why they have not simply left, perhaps they cannot.”
After resting Doc prepared what she hoped was a better concoction.
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"If they give me better gear in exchange for the food I'll take the trade. I can find food," Vex grunts in response to Chatty's words. "Where there's some rats, there's more rats."
She seems ready enough to go right back out there, but in response to the idea that some of them need rest for their full abilities to return, Vex sullenly acquiesces to spending some time doing... nothing. Though her variety of nothing includes a good deal of pacing, as well as finding a clear spot of floor and wall to stretch her cold muscles, and do push-ups against the floor.
Got to keep your muscles warm or the chill will set in, you'll be stiff, slow. The snow is thick but--
What the hell, there's no snow here. Vex grimaces at the thoughts that come from nowhere, and continues to move, like a caged animal.
After she's exhausted even that work, Vex jerks her chin at Slip. "You. Slip. C'mere."
Should the halfling acquiesce, Vex settles into a crouch to put them closer at eye level. "You talk with your hands? Show me a few symbols. Like how do I show you 'danger' if you can't hear me yell a warning?"
Bolkvar sat down and rested his head in his hands. He had this nagging feeling that he was missing something. Something that was important to him. But he couldn't figure out what it was! It wasn't anything that he had on him when the guards had let him through, so what was it? It was like an itch that he couldn't scratch. While the others talked and argued, he just sat there, feeling miserable.
"Has anyone else noticed that none of these rooms have windows? It just seems to me that inducing claustrophobia goes contrary to improving ones mental health. It feels more like a prison. Are we even above ground?"
Doc watches carefully as Vex begins to learn the halfling's language.
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Diseases of the mind. Like total memory loss. Slip hopes that that's the only thing wrong with his mind, but he has no real concept of what else that category would entail. Slip withdraws into himself for a bit while Winter keeps talking.
But he can be helpful.
Slip narrows his gaze at Chatty, and twists his face up disapprovingly. The tone of his voice doesn't change much, but he tries to make his disagreement clear.
"I trust them," Slip says at the height of the in-party side conversation. "I mean, as far as I can. They're not lying, or hiding information. I don't think they have our best interests at heart, but their offer of reciprocity is legitimate."
He puts his hands on his hips and nods. "Let's at least try."
He huffs away and goes to speak with some of the other people. Maybe Chatty's diagnosis is extreme paranoia and conspiratorial thinking.
No, you can't know that. Stop assuming.
After some time, Vex catches Slip's attention. He nods at her and smiles broadly. Then he balls both of his fists up. He puts his left fist in front of his chest, and then slides his right fist up over the left one twice, with the thumb extended.
"One time means threat. Two times means danger."
Then he takes both hands and puts them on his chest, fingers gently extended. He draws them both out into fists, shaking them once. "This one means healing."
He thinks for a moment about another sign that could be useful. He gets an impish look on his face, then screws his face up while bringing his right hand up to his forehead, fingers extended but closed together. It almost looks like a half-hearted salute, but at a low angle instead of nearly parallel.
"That one means bastard."
Blue let his hand fall back to his side before speaking again. “As I was saying, Ms. Klaczka, you have had to deal with quite a bit. I admire your ability to maintain some structure through all of this. I imagine it comes from years of running the security. I would love the opportunity to speak with some of the survivors here, Ms. Winter.” Blue said. “With your permission, of course. I’m not looking to cause alarm, just hoping to learn a detail or two that may have been missed. But I suppose, if you insist on us clearing that northern hall, we can wait for that.”
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Vex listened, and watched, Slip's symbols and gestures with a certain intense grimness. She copies the the hand gestures slowly... then snorts once at the sign for bastard.
"I'll keep that one in mind."
She asks the halfling a few other signs-- or suggests that they make one, in the future, to denote one of the 'shifting' creatures.
Soon enough, though, she is back to pacing, and then to approaching Winter to ask what sort of gear they will be given.
"As soon as we're ready to go out there-- you said gear? Blades? What have you got, if we're to risk our skins for your group?"
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If you two spend some time working on sign language while the group rest, Vex will receive a +2 to his linguistics check to aid in his understanding of Slip’s sign language.
The more you two work on this, the higher this bonus will become. But, this will only be for sign language and with Slip.
Winter looks to the group and smiles; “We will have more time to discuss things after you do this favor. Come with me.”
Winter leads the group south to a set of double doors to the west. Looking back east you see two doors to the south, and a red curtain that blocks off whatever is beyond. Opening the double doors reveals improvised pallets that are clustered beneath sculpted divinities, and cooking fire burning beneath cracked windows in this chapel. Panes of violet and blue stained glass form spiraling patterns between prisonlike bars, while a dozen candles flicker from modest alcove shrines.
Looking around this room you see symbols that you believe you have seen before and should know.
The clouded memory seems to let a few things through as you begin to notice images and symbols that pull at your memories.
This chapel is connected to Pharasma due to a prominent statue of the goddess standing before the sanctuary’s westernmost wall and depicted on the spiral stained-glass windows. Though as you look around you see smaller, candlelit shrines to other deities. Abadar, Desna, Erastil, Gozreh, Iomedae, Irori, Sarenrae, Shelyn. You even see modest locked donation box beneath smaller symbols of Asmodeus and Zon-Kuthon.
It takes a moment, but you realize that as you walked into this chapel, a sense of peace has washed over the group. Winter speaks up; “You can rest here. I will warn you that you are strangers here, and most will distrust strangers. You can try talking to them, but as word gets around of what you will be doing for the whole they will warm up to you. You can also gain their trust with helping cook and aiding those who have injuries.”
Turning to Vex; “Once you rest up and are ready to return out Captain York will return your belongings and will show you the equipment you may borrow.” Winter looks around the room; “You will be safe here.” She says as she moves to talk to a few of the survivors.
Looking around you see 22 survivors grouped together in little groups. Men, women, and children. All looking at you as if you were the monstrous creatures you have fought.
Chatty ignores the talk about helping others and climbs up to one of the stained glass windows and grabs onto the bars and peers out between the cracks.
You make your way quickly to the windows and shuffles up to peer out. Looking through the stained glass doesn't prove too fruitful. It's dark out, extremely hard to see. It's clearly night time, or is it? Suddenly Chatty sees movement, or something... It's hard to make out. That is until a crack of lightning rips across the sky and reveals a terrifyingly familiar scene. The yellow fog...
It wasn't a dream? Am I still dreaming? You think to yourself, when suddenly you see the fog violently moving and reveals for split seconds people? Animals? Creatures? Everyone misshapen and too quick to really tell what it could be.
You stumble back and are shaken. What is going on?
Doc peered through the window behind Chatty, she didn't understand what was happening. This was a feeling she was uncomfortable with. She didn't even have a theory. She stumbled back with genuine fear on her face and managed to mutter, "We cannot leave."
For the next couple of hours Doc escaped into her work. She paged through her formula book, not really reading it, her mind was set on the xanthic fog outside and the horrid shapes that it contained.
Mentally exhausted, the dwarf slowly but surely nodded off. Sitting with his back to the wall his head dipped into his chest and he fell asleep. Having finally found a place that was safe, the excitement of the day had caught up with him.
The yellow fog is not just in our dream? Does that mean the tattered man is out there too?
Chatty stumbles back down to the floor. "The fog. The dream is real. Or we're still dreaming. This is not good."
Slip nods at Vex. There wasn't a word for doppelganger, which Slip assumed was a loan word to Taldane. From what language, Slip had no idea. To be honest, he wasn't even sure he was saying it right, as he only saw Doc say the name once (in the tense hallway situation with the guards wielding crossbows). He had never read the word before, to his (incredibly limited) recollection.
Slip thinks for a moment, and at Vex's recommendation of 'shifting', nods.
He takes both hands, index fingers extended but slightly curved. With his left hand on the bottom, palm up, and his right hand on the top, palm down, he knocks his hands together once, then rotates the hands around the opposite way and knocks them together again. "Shifting," he says.
***
As Winter leads them into the chapel, Slip notes the looks of fear and distrust.
"Um, I can heal someone who is injured," he offers. "But it may help if someone can vouch for me."
Interactive Map
Overview Map
Mood Music
After seeing the yellowed mist, and a nightmare possibly coming to life, you are lost in even more unanswered questions. What kind of psychosis is this?
Your thoughts are continually pulled towards what you faced in the fog in your dream, but then also to what it was you saw, or didn't see, in the fog through the windows. Were those... things... real?
As Chatty mentions The Fog the survivors huddle together, fearing what they have seen in the fog or possibly in their own dreams.
Slip and Vex spend their time together as Vex is taking the initiative to learn some sign language. Simple words, but could prove effective in the future.
Once Slip is finished and approaches Winter she nods; “Come. There are two. Airwynn and Bates. We have them resting near the altar, praying that will calm their nerves at least. Airwynn was trapped under the debris when a wall fell on her. She probably has no right to be alive. From what I can tell she has a broken arm and by her breathing several broken ribs.” frowning in thought; “Bates on the other hand is just a child. He is a patient of this asylum, suffers from seizures that seem to be worsening without his medications. He was found by Mura when he was being attacked by… people. Biting him trying to eat his flesh. Mura is the only one he allows near him, and she’s a mute.”
Winter takes Slip to Airwynn first, because she knows that would be the easiest survivor to aid. As Slip lays his hands on her, those within earshot can hear the bones popping and cracking as they begin to shift back into place. The irregular sight of the skin returns to normal also as the bones knit themselves back together. Bruise lessen and cuts close. All visual signs that Slip is familiar with when it comes to his healing abilities.
With relief washing over her face, Airwynn opens her eyes, “Thank you.” she whispers, before closing them again to rest.
As Slip tries to approach Bates, Mura protectively places herself between Bate and himself. The child lays on the floor. Bite marks of ripped flesh mar the child’s arms, legs, and cheeks. Even after aiding another survivor, you get the sense that Mura is not trusting of Slip or the group yet.
The group, if you can call it that. Doing whatever it is that feels “normal.” Meditation, praying, sleeping, studying, or even watching the other survivors because they could be doppelgangers too.
Though it was hard to fall asleep, when you finally do it is welcomed. You begin dreaming but there is a since of relief. No fog, no horrific creature following you, no nightmares. Just peace.
Outside of sleeping on an uncomfortable stone floor, you feel rested.
You are restless from the dreams you had the night? before. You cannot find rest or peace. You toss and turn on this uncomfortable stone floor and eventually get up and kill time.
Roll me a Fortitude DC15. If you fail, you are Fatigued. While fatigued you cannot run or charge, and you take a -2 to Str and Dex. Your motor skills are not where they need to be.
At some point you are greeted or awakened by one of the women in white with the spiraling comet around their neck. They bring you back your belongings. Everything is mended and feel perfectly new. Those who were still wearing the white uniforms with slippers when you arrived are given common close. Pants, shirt, cloak, socks, and boots that don’t exactly fit. Everything is there, minus any food.
A second woman, dressed in white with the spiraling comet, approaches with a small bowl. The aroma of herbs catch your nose before you are able to see what is within. “It isn’t much, but what is shared with one is shared with the whole.” She kneels down before you and hands you a small bowl of watery broth and, if you’re lucky, there is a small piece of meat floating within. “We need food, and we pray Pharasma will guide you as you search.” and with that she rushes off to aid others.