Herok's vine arrow entangles the fleeing man, and Tekmin's stern demands cause him to fall to his knees, eyes wide with terror. "Alright! I won't move! Don't kill me!" he wails.
"No one's going to kill you!" Wherby snaps. "Just tell us what you all were doing down here? And why did you try to kill us?! None of that is normal behavior!"
"We are the Devil's Disciples," the man says, a hint of pride creeping into his voice through his terror. "We follow the teachings of Master Jordus Munt. He has told us the truth about the Sandpoint Devil, that it is no mere monster, but a god in the making. It is the child of Lamashtu and Pazuzu, and once it consumes 66 souls, it will transform into a god of fire, rebirth, and ruin! And as its first worshippers, we will be granted immense power once it ascends."
"Well, that sounds very enticing...but hasn't the Sandpoint Devil been around for a very long time? I would have thought that it had consumed at least 66 souls by now. That's not actually very many, you know," Timdok comments.
Herok thought about how long the Sandpoint Devil had been around for.
"What a bunch of bowls of loose custard!" Wherby grouses. He's probably talking about the cultists ... but also maybe Tekmin.
"They have to be innocent souls! And who among us can claim to be truly innocent?" the cultist says, trying to sound more profound than his words may actually be.
Herok knows that Sandpoint has been a settlement for about sixty years now. For at least that entire time, there have been stories and legends about the notorious Sandpoint Devil menacing the populace!
"So...how are you going to get souls, then?" Tekmin scratches his head, genuinely puzzled. "Seems impossible. Do you think this might, maybe, be some kind of scam?"
"Master Munt knows! He selects the innocent and has us bring them here to sacrifice to the Devil! We only need eleven more. Unlimited power is within our grasp!" the man declares.
"How does Master Munt select the innocent? Is there a common theme to them?" Herok was trying to figure out who the cultists had been kidnapping and murdering. He felt they would have to drag the man back to Sandpoint for trial, since they'd captured him, if there was a safe place to leave him where he couldn't escape.
The cultist goes on to explain that Munt has had his followers capture lone wanderers along the Lost Coast Road and bring them back here for sacrifice. They have done this five times since setting up their operations here several months ago.
"You are without a doubt the dumbest person I've talked to today!" Wherby grouses. "Where is this Munt now?"
"Master Munt has taken the senior members of our order to commune with the Devil! If you keep going down, I'm sure you'll find him. Or, he'll find you!"
"Right, then. Does anyone know where we can stash this guy until we can drag him back to town to stand trial for his crimes?"
Wherby just closes his eyes and shakes his head before looking around for a stashing spot.
"Is there any password or anything else to help us avoid having to kill more of you steamed-peaches-for-brains?"
"Eh? No, we don't have any passwords," the man says with a shrug.
There are plenty of small rooms adjoining the central room where you can stash the guy. These rooms were once used by Whistlefang goblins as dens, and each contains a filthy mess of rags and straw along with a scattering of miscellaneous goblin “treasure.” Searching through the rooms uncovers one forgotten treasure, though—a caterwaul sling is stuffed under a pile of rags.
The last of the adjoining rooms is nicer than the others. A cot heaped with fine blankets sits in the southwest corner of this room, while to the southeast sits a single chair and desk. A few scrolls and books sit on the desk, along with an unlit lantern and a stone sculpture of a winged horse monster—the Sandpoint Devil.
The stone sculpture of the Sandpoint Devil on the desk is quite well made and is worth 30 gp. The books and scrolls on the desk are mostly hand-written accounts of grisly sermons venerating the Devil. Five of the scrolls, however, are magical: a scroll of dream message, three scrolls of heal (heightened to 3rd level), and a scroll of remove disease.
Also, a thorough search of the room uncovers a secret door hidden in the eastern wall. The desk is blocking the door, and must be moved if you wish to open it.
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"You've really done it," Tekmin tells the pathetic cultist. "Master Crick is terribly angry with you. He's usually so patient!"
Tekmin collects the interesting sling and lets the others examine the scrolls while he looks at the desk.
"Ready for me to shove this?"
Tucking away the scrolls, Herok said, [b]"Here, let me help. Does anyone want to carry the statue of the Devil?"[b]
"Well, that remove disease scroll will come in right handy, since we're definitely going to come down with some pestilence for being down here," Wherby complains.
He picks up the sling, giving it an experimental whirl.
The door opens onto a set of carved stone steps that descend into a dark cave. The air in this cave is noticeably cooler than elsewhere, and a strange, inky condensation beads on the wall, seeming stubbornly unwilling to drip down to the floor. A large, cracked slab of black stone protrudes from the cave’s floor to the south, looking almost as if it had slowly erupted from the surrounding rock like a stony tumor.
As you enter the chamber, you hear a sibilant voice whispering in your mind. "And who might these fine bodies be who come to visit me? Where is my darling pet Minargul?"
"Master Crick, are you hearing this?" Tekmin digs a (mostly) clean finger into his ear. "Or, do I have snakes on the brain again?"
Wherby hangs his head for a moment. "Can we pretend I don't hear anything? If I did hear anything, I'd probably say Minargul got some common sense and decided to go make something useful of themself, instead of causing trouble."
"Hmm," the voice purrs. "Come closer, my new friends. I can great you great power. All you need to do is touch this stone, and it will be yours..."
"Thanks, but we're not interested," Wherby grates. "We just want to go home, but there are some idiot cultists worshiping a devil here, and that's causing problems."
"Cultists, you say? Well, I can certainly help you deal with them," says the voice. "I can help solve all sorts of problems you might have. You will find me a useful ally, indeed..."
"You're probably the problem behind the cultists in the first place!" Wherby says. "If you just go away, that will solve our problem!"
"Why would you want to stay in a dark hole like this anyway?" Tekmin asks.
"I do not wish to stay here any longer than I already have," the voice says. "Which is why I need your help. You help me, and I will help you. Simply touch the stone and we can proceed..."
"Why are you down here in the first place?" Tekmin, tempted by the talking stone, for once applies caution, remembering his master's advice to be extra careful when talking to things that don't have mouths.
"I was bound to this stone millennia ago to serve as an advisor. But after some time, the humans stopped coming to seek my knowledge. And so I languished here for ages untold until at last that dear sweet goblin, Minargul came. It was nice to have somebody to talk to, but she would not touch the stone. But you will touch it, won't you? I'm sure you're far more canny than she ever was..."
"Hmmm...." Herok considered the talking stone. "Hey, I think this is the stone we were told to break. We weren't supposed to touch it, though, so I'm not sure how we'll break it..."
"Well, it is a rock, so..." all of his (very limited store of) common sense expended for the day, Tekmin pulls out his trusty frying pan and smacks the rock!
Wherby waits to see what happens with bated breath.
The stone cracks under Tekmin's heavy blow! Smoke pours from the fissure, and with a howl, the fiend that had been trapped inside slips through its binding and emerges into the room. Only this shadowy bat-winged demon's teeth and claws have any sense of physicality to them—the rest is lost in darkness.
"Ah, freedom at last! Allow me to thank you properly!" the demon cackles as it moves to attack!
HP 61/61
AC 21
Fort +12, Ref +10, Will +13
Hero points: 3
Focus Points: 2/3
Spells prepped (DC 22): 1st: enfeeble [], ill omen [], soothe [x]; 2nd: blood vendetta [], paranoia [x][]; 3rd: invisibility sphere [], slow [x][x]
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
Wherby sighs. He starts to speak and then sighs again. "You said you wanted to leave!" he grouses, glaring at the demon before casting a spell.
Tekmin swings his frying pan at the demon twice before taking a defensive posture.
for
for
Ximble hits the demon with his chakram, though the incorporeal fiend is immune to precision damage. The goat fails to hit. The demon resists Wherby's evil eye but is temporarily slowed. Tekmin swings his frying pan, scoring a hit.
The fiend howls as it attempts to merge with Tekmin and possess the halfling!
Seeing Tekmin on the verge of being possessed by the demon, Herok quickly prayed to Erastil to try and help Tekmin stave off the effects. "Erastil, ward this warrior against the demon's touch!" He then racked his brain, trying to think of what shadow demons could do.
"Grr...Master Crick, I don't feel so good..."
HP 61/61
AC 21
Fort +12, Ref +10, Will +13
Hero points: 3
Focus Points: 2/3
Spells prepped (DC 22): 1st: enfeeble [], ill omen [], soothe [x]; 2nd: blood vendetta [], paranoia [x][]; 3rd: invisibility sphere [], slow [x][x]
Cantrips: daze, detect magic, ignition, guidance (innate), shield, telekinetic projectile
Effects:
"Grrr!" Wherby growls, trying to figure out what to do next. He's no adventurer to know how to deal with a problem like this...
He backs away from Tekmin and casts a protective spell.