For a moment Aerith’s magic failed her. Sending her blade out, all she managed to do was move it. Without the accompanying attack it merely hovered menacingly.
The dwarf grunts at the suggestion.
"I'll see what I can do," he murmurs.
Epperson adds for good measure.
Mahmoud curls his lip in disgust. Another construct? It seemed this one was particularly well-made. Alas, there was little they could do but fight it. He briefly considers trying to grapple it down to the floor and pin it, so that Epperson's adamantine weapon could swiftly incapacitate it, but he thinks it looks too strong for him. So, sighing, he draws his magic dagger again and throws a barrage at the construct.
Epperson's curse lands, but the construct is able to withstand its effects ... for now. Mahmoud's dagger manages to scratch the guardian's exterior but doesn't leave much damage. The construct silently moves toward Tribim and strikes out with its quarterstaff.
"Ow!" His hears ringing from having his head struck, Tribim is relieved Epperson had moved to the other side of the staff wielding construct. Shaking his head to clear it, he slashes first with the blade in his right paw then with the one in his left.
Mahmoud continues attacking the golem.
Aerith willed the blade to parry the blow and attempted to make a riposte following the parry.
Satisfied with finally cursing a foe, Epperson concentrates on preventing any attacks from landing his colleagues.
You chip away at the construct, but its defenses are quite strong. It shifts focus to Epperson.
Realizing the stone fellow with the staff had attacked Epperson, Tribim bluts out "Hey, leave my friend alone!" as he slashes first with the blade in his right paw then with the one in his left.
Her blade was nearly thrown away by the force of the construct knocking the parry attempt away. Luckily it was but her mind that held it, as she forced it to fly back to once more attempt to hinder the golem from attacking her comrades.
Mahmoud tries again to chip away at the golem's animating force. He grunts with the effort.
You continue to chip away at the construct guardian, but it isn't going down easily. Fortunately, you can see that it's sustained some serious damage. You're likely only a few strikes away from victory - if it doesn't kill you first.
Mahmoud glowers at the stone creature and throws his dagger again and again.
Relieved to see that the creature wasn't able to strike Epperson, Tribim continues his attacks as he slashes first with the blade in his right paw then with the one in his left.
Beads of sweat were forming on the elf’s brow as she concentrated on the task at hand. Once more her blade parried the attack from the construct and then swept in low, hitting it in the legs. One thing was for certain, she was learning much more about how to control her powers than she ever would in the safety of her home.
This final barrage of attacks destroys the guardian construct.
Potential Loot
MW Quarterstaff
Sheathing his blades, Tribim picks up the statues quarterstaff, spinning it around for a moment, "Well that's a fun weapon." As he moves the staff he realizes his shoulder is injured. Reaching into his pouch he pulls out the magical wand, extending it to the elf asking, "Aerith, you mind?" As the elf heals he asks, "Anyone want to use the quarterstaff?"
-----------------------
Moving his shoulder he smiles at Aerith, "That's better, thanks. He then turns and inspects the doors to the west, first checking for traps, then locks. After dealing with whatever he finds, Tribim attempts to open the doubler doors.
Two columns carved to resemble men with their arms crossed over their chests, holding a khopesh in one hand and an ankh in the other, support the ceiling of this long chamber. Deep alcoves in the walls form burial chambers, some of which are sealed with stone doors. Other sepulchers just have sarcophagi tucked inside, while a few appear empty. To the north and south, wide passages exit the room through the east wall, each leading to stone double doors.
Mahmoud is annoyed. "For years, I have never encountered any man who could walk and fight after death. Then I was raised by the Temple of Pharasma. Now, it seems like everyone is doing it." He grunts.
Entering he mausoleum Tribim mental reminds himself that they were permitted to 'loot' but not to 'desecrate' the tombs. Seeing the zombie about the same time as Mahmoud he grunts, "Well, my friend take heart, it's not just the Pharasmins who are seeing them." Winking at his fellow performer he moves forwards to help put the undead down.
Having dispatched the zombie he moves back towards the north to systematically open the vaults. As he moves, he nods towards the two columns holding the khopesh and ankh, "So is that what the worshipers of Nethys would look like?"
Having found his way back to the most northern sepulcher he carefully inspects it for traps and tries to open it up.
Epperson grunts as the zombie falls.
”Wonder if there’s anything to these zombies hanging around and our uninvited collaborators. As in, could they be creating them?” He lets that question hang as he fiddles with his healing wand.
As Tribim moves to the first sarcophagus, the zombie rises to its feet!
Filled with an unnatural fear that gripped her heart, Aerith’s face went pale (or at least more pale than usual) and immediately fell back.
"Steady on," the dwarf calls out, hefting his shield and advancing on the zombie. "This could be a mummy-----aw, blast. It's not." The disappointment is plain in Epperson's voice.
"Thbbbbbt." The disappointment even creeps into the malefactor's curse as his apathetic swing sails wide of any mark.
With a silent, terrified cry, Mahmoud is stricken and his magical dagger slips from his hands to the ground. He backs away fearfully, retreating as far and as fast as he can travel away from the zombie.
Hearing the noise behind him, Tribim is momentarily surprised by the Zombie. Resisting the urge to be afraid he attempts to tumble past the undead to the opposite side of Epperson. MEanwhile slashing with the blade in his right paw.
Half of the 'Shadows' begin to flee, but Epperson and Tribim stand firm. The undead takes a swipe at Tribim as the catfolk tumbles by but misses badly. The blade cuts deeply into the zombie's spine, and it collapses.
Surprised Mahmoud and Aerith were so frightened, Tribim is pleased the zombie missed him as he slid under its attack. Feeling his blade strike the undead's spine, Tribim quickly checks the weapons edge as the zombie falls.
Looking towards Epperson, "I'm surprised this one scared them when the first one didn't, you think it's different?" Sheathing his blades he continues, "We should probably wait for those two to return before we start to open the sarcophagus again." As he kneels down and checks the body for anything interesting, he calls out loudly,
--------------------
Once the 'shadows' have reunited Tribim will return his attention to the most northern sarcophagus, he carefully inspects it for traps and tries to open it up.
When Mahmoud returns and retrieves his dagger, he looks furious. "Fear magic is the worst magic," he says with deep animosity.
Epperson blinks in surprise as the sneaky rogue yells.
"Surely those that we are following won't be expecting us....perhaps stealth continues to be a key tactic?"
Returning with a face flushed with embarrassment, Aerith could only mutter in agreement with Mahmoud. ”Yes, these perfidious traps are the worst.”
As Tribim steps away from the body, it stands back up and tries to strangle him!
No longer distracted by fear, Aerith realizes that this isn't an ordinary zombie. Its behavior means it's likely a coffer corpse: undead formed as the result of an incomplete death ritual. They feign death when damaged but continue to rise until completely destroyed.
"Hey!" Shouting as the un-dead undead slams him in the back, Tribim finds himself unable to talk anymore being grappled by the faker. Wiggling, he attempts to get away from the 'coffer corpse.'
Mahmoud's fear turns to deep animosity and he throws his dagger at the creature with a vengeance.
For her part, Aerith felt little to no animosity for the corpse, for it was just that. And its creator had just done his job. It was just another trap to be dealt with. She commanded her blade to come down at it as it rose up.
The coffer corpse collapses again under your barrage of attacks.
Mahmoud continues stabbing at the prone creature, and tries to saw off its head.
”C-calm down…” Aerith stammered. ”I think it is dead.” She said, wincing at the sight.
Watching as Mahmoud spends the time and energy to saw off the undead things head, Tribim looks from Mahmoud to Aerith, "It was dead to start with, I'm happy to let Mahmoud make sure if it gets back up it will have to spend its time finding its head instead of attacking us."
Once Mahmoud's gory task is done, Tribim returns his attention to the most northern sepulcher.
Epperson hefts his flail, considers Aerith's knowledge, notes Mahmoud's enthusiasm, nods, then sets into pulping one of the creature's legs with his weapon.
"Even if it gets back up, it won't be able to chase us on a lame leg," the dwarf reasons.
You spend some time ensuring that the coffer corpse won't rise again. Once this is finished, Tribim begins inspecting the sepulchers. Three of them are sealed behind stone doors that have no apparent way to be opened. The other three contain sarcophagi. Each of them contains a mummy wearing a gold funerary mask .
Of greater interest is the northeast sepulcher. It appears empty, but closer inspection reveals it's actually a false grave concealing a secret vault. Inside is a small chest of valuables.
Potential Loot
apprentice's cheating gloves
Potion - bull's strength
Potion - cure moderate wounds x2
Ruby x6
Having helped collect the masks and the loot from the small chest, Tribim holds up the gloves, "These really aren't my style, anyone want them or the potions?"
As the ready to leave the area, Tribim asks, "Is there any magic to melt the sealed stone doors? Or would we need to batter them down with hammers?" He shrugs, "Either way, they're not going anywhere, we can come back after we find whoever left those tracks.'
Having reshouldered his pack, Tribim moves to the southeastern doors, and carefully inspects them for traps or locks and them attempts to open them.
”Oh! But the gloves are very useful. I had a pair when I was a child.” Aerith exclaimed, her prior feelings of unease quickly put away. ”You can clean anything with them, even if it is a small area at a time. You can also chill your drinks, change flavor…Nethys be praised before I learned the spells you couldn’t separate me from them. They also let you move things with telekinesis, to a minor extent. Such as picking up a key from a distance or the like. They are called apprentice cheating gloves for a reason. It lets you do everything that a new mage has to learn.”
A stone altar flanked by two bronze urns sits against the north wall of this chamber. To the south, three rows of stone pews face the altar. A lacquered wooden cabinet is bolted to the western wall at head level, and a long stone table runs parallel to the east wall. Stone double doors exit the room to the east and west.
Guarding this chamber is a single skeleton, wielding a bronze-tipped spear.
Surprisingly, instead of mindlessly charging forward, the skeleton channels unholy energy through a brandished Nethysian symbol!
Raising an eyebrow as Aerith explains the properties of the gloves, Tribim nods as he holds the gloves and compares them to the 'white' of his linen kilt. Shaking his head, he extends the gloves towards the elf. "Yeah, but their not quite the same shade as my kilt are they?"
--------------------------------
Popping the door open, Tribim announces, "Just another Skeleton....Ow!" But as the Negative energy washes over him, he realizes it's not exactly the same as the undead they'd faced before. Quickly telling his dwarven friend, "I'll get to the other side, try and flank from here!"
Moving to the right between the pews, Tribim draws his silver Kunais. As he reaches the far side of the skeleton he feints with the weapon in his off-paw, and then tries to smash the skeletons ribs with three quick strikes.
”Wow!” Epperson remarks as the skeleton channels void energy. ”That’s impressively resourceful. Oh well, time to end it.”
The dwarf strides in.
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Aerith looked disappointed that nobody shared her excitement. She wondered if the shorter lived races just didn’t care about things such as always having their drinks cold or food spiced right. She filed the thought away to look into later. It would make for fascinating study to better understand others. Her entire life she had been told how different non-elves were. While her aunt was clear that they were lesser species, Aerith theorized that they were just more…simple. She congratulated herself on how forward thinking and understanding she was being, only to pause. Perhaps it wasn’t that they weren’t elves, but that they were commoners? Her brow furrowed as she explored the idea. Perhaps nobles of other species would think more like the sophisticated members of her family. The idea made sense. She hoped that she’d have the opportunity to see how the nobility of the short lived races acted and thought.
She was so absorbed in these thoughts that she didn’t even notice as the negative energy washed over her. Feeling annoyed she sent her blade out to cut it down.
Mahmoud grunts. "Undead cleric?" he mutters, rolling his eyes.
He moves closer and throws his dagger at the ghastly creature.