Shooting spells through trap doors? That sounds reasonably safe Vildran concedes before taking up a position over the trap door. He aims his staff off flame down through it.
While Trygve works on Morga's shield, San identifies the silver fletched arrow as a sleep arrow, which unsurprisingly can put people to sleep, and the horned arrow as an antler arrow, which can be used to immobilize its victims.
-
-
Perhaps due to the creaking of the trapdoor, the acolytes have time to mentally reorient themselves. Only Autumn manages to get the jump on them.
|||| INIT ||||
Autumn
Blue acolyte
Red acolyte
San (4 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 1; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vildran (4 dmg)
Morga (9 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 2; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vanda (5 dmg)
Although outwardly Autumn seems calm, cool, and collected, on the inside she is a bundle of anxious nerves, jittery with adrenaline. As soon as San swings the trapdoor open she takes just a split second to assess her targets, and then unleashes a flickering bolt of magical energy at the acolyte with a bow. “There’s a staircase under the trapdoor. Three below!” she calls out to Morga and Vanda while moving out of the direct line of sight of the archer.
-
The red acolyte shouts "They got around us! They're upstairs, east lookout!" Brandishing a rusty sickle, he rushes as best he can up the steep stairs. It's slow enough going that he only has time for a single attack, which he aims at Autumn. Luckily, Vildran's ward lingers just enough to shield her from harm.
You hear some muffled shouts in response to red. They sound like they're coming from elsewhere on the ground floor.
|||| INIT ||||
San (4 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 1; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vildran (12 dmg, unconscious, dying 2)
Morga (9 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 2; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vanda (5 dmg)
Autumn
Blue acolyte (10 dmg)
Red acolyte
Whatever satisfaction Autumn might have felt with the success of her spell is short-lived, lasting only as long as the time it takes for Vildran to crumple to the floor. But there’s no time to worry about the wizard, not when a rusty sickle rips a jagged seam through her blouse, but miraculously doesn’t spill blood. She reacts instinctively, thrusting her right palm open in front of her attacker’s face as she channels another phase bolt through her hand. Meanwhile, she raises her left arm like a shield in defense. “Morga! We need you!”
"Vanda! Hold the stairs!" Morga commands, careening around the corner and through the trashed barracks to see who's down. Arriving in the doorway, she sees Vildran down but cannot get to him. Growling, she raises her shield and hopes San and Autumn can kill the acolyte in time for her to heal the wizard.
San is one again surprised they have adversaries in their face already. He's even more surprised when the arrows fly up and skewer Vildran. He takes a step back and fires an arrow at the acolyte.
Back to the north, you hear Vanda shout "Halt!", followed by two other voices offering confused cries and questions about why she's blocking the way when there are invaders on the second floor. It seems her presence is stemming the approach of additional does from that side for now.
Red slashes twice with his sickle. Autumn dodged the first attack, and only barely manages to intercept the second with her shield of force. The barrier abates much of the slash, but can't fully block it and she's lightly nicked by the sickle. Red then backs off, stepping down the steps with a "There's too many of them! Regroup!" Blue stays at the bottom of the stairs and out of view of your party.
|||| INIT ||||
San (4 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 1; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vildran (12 dmg, unconscious, dying 1)
Morga (9 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 2; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vanda (5 dmg)
Autumn (1 dmg)
Blue acolyte (10 dmg)
Red acolyte (10 dmg)
Standing over Vildran, Morga casts her final Heal spell.
Then she patches up herself.
"I'm out of healing spells now, so we'd better make this count!"
Vildran gasps awake, eyes wide open, fully filling his lungs as he inhales. He looks around for his staff and grabs it , stands up and backs into the corner between San and Autumn.
For a moment he looks back and forth wildly, as he regains his bearings.
This is becoming a bad habit...
Seeing Vildran on his feet again gives the archer confidence to press the attack. San darts around his companions to get a view of the retreating acolytes and fires two arrows through the trap door.
A red leaf fades and falls from Autumn’s tree tattoo as her magical shield cracks and dissipates from the acolyte’s attack. For a moment she hesitates, leaning towards self-preservation, but the Gorumite’s call to regroup and Morga’s entreaty to make this ambush count spur her to action. Dashing next to San, she cups her hands around her mouth and seems to scream—but not a sound is heard ... at least, not by anyone other than acolytes. They would hear an eerie, jarring static, like phantom vibrations tormenting one’s mind.
-
-
To the north, Vanda still seems to be holding off the other two with words for now, but it's getting heated.
|||| INIT ||||
San (4 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 1; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vildran (wounded 1)
Morga (Rust Creep - Stage 2; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vanda (5 dmg)
Autumn (1 dmg)
Red acolyte (13 dmg)
Taking a deep breath, Morga huffs out and mutters breathlessly: "Time to back up Vanda." And with that, she hustles back across the keep to stand beside her new ally with her shield raised.
Seeing no acolytes through the trap door, Vildran heads back towards the stairs. He stops just short of going through the final door, hoping that he can avoid being an easy target this time.
He peers through the doorway at the ongoing chaos, ready to break in with a clever spell in a moment...
Thanking his luck that the return arrow didn't pierce his armor, San notices the foe retreat. Not intending to let the acolyte get away, San practically leaps down the stairs after him. Seeing him fleeing toward the other stairs, he looses two arrows through the room.
With San bounding down to finish off the remaining injured acolyte, Autumn follows Vildran partway towards the stairwell. “We just want to talk!” she calls out to the Gorumites, not wanting to escalate beyond the words with which Vanda has held them off so far. But fearing—or rather, expecting—violence nonetheless, she twists and twirls her fingers, conjuring an illusion of thick, black smoke to conceal Vanda from attack.
-
With the acolyte's cry turning to a gurgle, the two remaining acolytes on the stairs make up their mind. One shouts "Vanda you witch, you let them in didn't you? You betrayed us!" before trying to slash at her with a rusty shortsword. She deflects the attack, but is caught by surprise as the more lightly armored acolyte rushes her and shoulders her out of the way with a shove. She stumbles back and the second acolyte runs up the stairs to take her place and gain the cover of Autumn's smoky figment.
The pink acolyte slashes at Morga twice with his sickle, but Morga deflects both attacks with her shield and armor.
|||| INIT ||||
San (4 dmg, Rust Creep - Stage 1; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vildran (wounded 1)
Morga (Rust Creep - Stage 2; -1 penalty on Athletics checks)
Vanda (5 dmg)
Autumn (1 dmg)
Green acolyte
Pink acolyte
In for a copper … With a quick deep breath, Autumn dashes forward to Morga’s aid, ceasing her concentration on the smoky illusion which fades into nothingness. Throwing up an arm, she unleashes a magical bolt of energy that stutters through existence towards its target. But it simply phases out to pass through the wall, never to reappear.
Hearing shouts and the clang of armor, San abandons his temporary hiding spot and dashes to the foot of the other stairs. Taking a quick assessment he fires an arrow at the acolyte he can see.
Gathering up his courage (which is still damaged from being knocked out a second time), Vildran rushes into the room, stopping just past Autumn.
He points his staff down onto the stairs and sends a bolt a flame at the nearest acolyte.
"Rrrrgh! If you like rust and ruin so much, why don't you succumb to it so we can be done with you!" Morga's patience for vicious idiots is at an all-time low. Keeping her shield up, she grabs her starknife and jabs it at a jagged chink in his rusty armor.
Combat Over! You each gain 100 XP.
Vanda breathes hard, shaken up by the fighting more than you might expect for one with her degree of skill and experience.
San stands at the foot of the stairs catching his breath as the last acolyte falls. Noticing Vanda's discomfort, "Everyone ok up there? Uh, Vanda? You know these weren't really your compatriots. They are whatever imposters this cult placed here..."
Autumn exhales a deep sigh of relief. “Thanks Vanda,” she says earnestly, “you were a great help.” The sorceress walks by and looks down the stairs, giving San an appreciative nod. “We’re fine, though Vildran looks like he’s regretting his life choices.” She gives the wizard a wink, then looks at Vanda.
“You said there were four other acolytes, right? That should be all of them. Though I suppose we should search the rest of the ground floor to make sure there aren’t any more.” She descends past San and takes some time to search the infirmary, in case there are any supplies left that might be of use.
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Autumn is all business, but Morga can tell that San's intuition is correct: Vanda needs a moment and a bit of compassion. Placing her hand on Vanda's arm, she says: "Sometimes there are no options that feel good, even the right ones. Your unease proves your good heart."
Just then it hits her: she's a murderer. Every hair on her body stands on end, and a sick feeling spreads from her stomach. Her mind whirls between horror at what she's been doing and the knowledge that worse would've been done to many people if she hadn't. For several moments she is utterly disoriented. This was nothing like her training...
After what seems like an eternity, she finally latches onto the words she had just shared with Vanda. Holding onto them like grim death, she grounds herself with deep breaths as the phrases "...no options that feel good..." and "...unease proves your good heart" echo in her mind. A distant part of her brain remarks dryly: Heh. "Good heart." Whaddya know.
With a deep sigh, she claps Vanda on the shoulder (or as near to it as she can reach) and trudges downstairs to join the others.
Vildran looks at his staff for several moments and then sets it at his side.
Well... that could have gone worse. Yeah, okay San. How about you down there?
He asks craning his neck to peer over the railing and down the stairs to check on his kinsman.
“We’re fine, though Vildran looks like he’s regretting his life choices.” She gives the wizard a wink, then looks at Vanda.
Hey! I wasn't even knocked out this time. He chuckles, taking the teasing in stride.
Anyway, yeah if there are no more acolytes, then our blacksmith can freely retreat to a proper home. Now I'm curious if we can access tunnels that might lead elsewhere on the island. And, if Azomi or any cultists from Rusthenge return, they'll notice the lack of acolytes and react. I wonder how much time we have until then.
He passes by Vanda, being comforted by Morga, to join Autumn and San on the first level. He doesn't quite give it the attention Morga does, but pauses to ask
How are you taking all of this, Vanda?
Vanda shakes her head at the comments from Vildran and San "You're wrong. Arik was with us for years." She looks pointedly at the corpse sprawled on the stairs "His only fault was trusting Lord Ragnulf, and looking past the ill deeds done in our midst. He was a friend. And he was just like me." She closes her eyes and offers a prayer to Gorum, then turns away. Morga's words seem to not comfort her, at least not yet.
In the infirmary, Autumn finds the space modest, with two beds and a small work desk. The shelves, likely once stocked with a bounty of medical supplies, are mostly bare. The beds are stained with rust. In a drawer in the desk Autumn finds what's left - a set of expanded healer's tools, and twenty four unlabeled bottles, six of which still have liquid within them. If questioned, Vanda admits that the ones who worked in the infirmary are now dead and that she doesn't know which bottle is which, only that most were for healing minor wounds.
A faint smell of waste and filth emanates from the stairs leading down from the infirmary.
“Not much of an infirmary,” Autumn comments idly as she rummages through the shelves and desk. “No wonder they had trouble treating so many people. Any idea what these are?” She hands over the half dozen nonempty vials to Vildran and San for inspection. “And here,” she adds after a long moment’s hesitation, giving the expanded healer’s toolkit to Morga, “I’ll take mine back.” The new toolkit seems much more valuable, but given how much they’ve relied on the cleric’s healing—and how much the dwarf has sometimes struggled with Autumn’s personalized kit that’s stocked with as many placebos as actual remedies—she relinquishes the newfound valuable for the greater good.
Unlike the others, she leaves Vanda alone, recognizing that the Gorumite will need some time and space to process her emotions. She doesn’t particularly like killing either, but she’s learned long ago the necessity of doing whatever it takes to survive—and perhaps even thrive. While Vanda recovers, the con artist quickly searches the armory and storage rooms on the north side of the keep, looking for anything of value.
Morga enters the infirmary at the tail end of Autumn's search. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the superior healer's toolkit, gladly relinquishing Autumn's in trade. I may be able to heal San tonight with this! She doesn't think too hard about having to ignore her own malady to do so. That's a later problem. For now, she uses her new expanded healer's kit to patch up the party.
As Autumn meanders off, Morga follows. "We should stick together, in case Azomi shows up." She keeps her senses sharp, on the lookout for danger.
Listening to Vanda, Vildran grimaces when Vanda remarks lack of knowledge about the medicines. He accepts the handful of them from Autumn.
Maybe I can figure out what they do with brief inspection. I'm sure they're quite common, funtional mixtures...
Even his antennae lean in to inspect the contents.
Handing out to the group , he joins Autumn in scanning rooms beyonds.
How does one even look out for a being such as Azomi?
Vanda, what rooms would Azomi frequent here? Would there be obvious signs of how recently he was in any specific place?
Despite others considering her need for space, Vildran remains ever functional in his interactions.
To the north, Autumn finds the two small side rooms each contain a manneguin, a weapon rack and a stool. One mannequin is clad in rusty, broken scale mail. The other mannequin is clad in a breastplate that is surprisingly still usable. Autumn notices a pendant of a bull's head attached to the back of the breastplate. The weapons on the racks are all ruined - more rust than steel. The center room to the north looks to have been once a fine storeroom, but it's supplies are now meager - with tools, foodstuffs and other daily necessities in short supply.
There's no sign of Azomi in the infirmary. Vanda answers Vildran's question "That creature? We would see it anywhere and everywhere, usually from a distance. Early on especially at night. I don't think it leaves any signs of its presence. As unpleasant as it is, it is quiet and usually quite composed." The only thing Morga notices in her lookout is the sounds of something small padding about - like a cat perhaps - echoing faintly up from the basement.
Responding to Vanda, "Oh... I had assumed these were all interlopers. I didn't think the old guard would be that fervent. You showed hesitation after all. I'm sorry you've been put in such a tough situation." San tries to be as sympathetic as he can despite the fact that the person Vanda is mourning was just trying to kill them.
Not having much else to do while not being worked on, San accompanies Autumn as she investigates to at least be a bodyguard. He keeps a wary eye on the steps to the basement whenever he is in the infirmary though. Something doesn't sit right with him besides the stench.
When Autumn remarks on the bull pendant attached to the back of the non-rusted breastplate, Morga takes a closer look.
After everyone has been healed, and finding nothing of use—at least to herself, though she shows the bull’s head pendant to the others—in the storerooms and armory, Autumn releases a reluctant sigh. “I suppose it’s time to search the basement for this Izomi? Give me a couple minutes to get ready.” Remembering how dangerous the fungus-wolf was, and knowing next to nothing about Izomi, the sorceress tries to find usable leather armor on one of the dead acolytes. The breastplate in the armory would have been nice, but it’s far too heavy and bulky for someone like her.
Should she find suitable armor, she would unashamedly strip it from the still warm corpse and don it in preparation for whatever awaits below. “Morga, you have the best eyes—you should drink that eagle-eye elixir, in case there really is a secret passage down there to Rusthenge.”
Autumn does a search of the acolytes for armor that fits well enough. It's not too difficult a task, as many of the acolytes seem to have discarded their mail when it rusted too badly and swapped to simpler leather and hide armors.
While Autumn is putting on new armor, About time she gets some protection... San takes a look at the bull pendant.
"Agreed on how to split the potions. Take it away Morga, we'll trust your keen senses." As odd as it seems for an elf to talk about a dwarf's senses, he is completely sincere of his trust in her. Drawing an arrow, he nods his readiness.
The leather armor doesn’t fit perfectly, and it’s definitely heavier than she’s used to, but it doesn’t seem to restrict her movements, and, most importantly, she feels just a smidge more confident that she won’t be stabbed to death on this fool adventure that she’s somehow been entangled in. “Is it true that some people actually sleep in this stuff?” Autumn asks San and Morga in disbelief.
She wrinkles her nose at the smell coming from the stairs, clearly not looking forward to venturing down there, but steeling herself for this necessity anyway. “The rest of us will need light,” she reminds Vildran, then turns to Vanda. In a light, gentle voice she asks “Ready to explore the basement?”
With everyone ready, Morga chugs the eagle eye elixir and stalks quietly down the basement stairs. Every sense is heightened, though she wishes her sense of smell was not. Great-aunt Hilga... She can't finish the thought, unsure of which would be worse: finding her alive and suffering after all this time, or finding her corpse.
The dark, curving stairwell leads into a stony basement, which proves to be lit only by whatever you brought along. Columns throughout the room support the keep’s structure overhead. Casks and wooden crates line the north and south walls, and a single iron door exits to the east. A large hole has been recently broken in the western wall, leading to a naturally occurring cave. Piles of stray matted with blood lie along the edges of the room, and dark stains of some rotting matter - animal rather than plant - are smeared near the eastern door. Smears of rust and blood trace a path east to west across the room and continue on into the western tunnel.
Morga immediately notices you're not alone in this space. To the north and south end of the room, two calico cats hide behind ruined barrels. And to the west in the shadows of the tunnel stands a hunched, hooded figure. The individual timorously calls out "W-Who's there?"
Vildran shudders. Yeah, but who else sweated in that leather armor before you got it? That would be, how would she say? "Not fetch."
He then gets embarrassed at the thought and gets in line behind Morga to quickly move on.
--------------------
When they reach the bottom of the stairs, Vildran incants Light and hands one out to everyone .
Using it he steps forward and uses his light to reveal the source of the voice.
Well, for starters we are not acolytes of Stonehome. In fact, we are... visitors of a sort. I'm Vildran. We seek answers.
Since the voice seems timid, his intuition tells him it's likely harmless to give his name.
Autumn declines the wizard’s light spell, preferring to stay hidden in the shadows—it’s enough that the others have light by which she can see. She peeks around Vanda, searching for the voice at the dark edge of Vildran’s light. In a hushed whisper, she asks Vanda through her magical messaging spell “Was that tunnel there before? And is that Izomi?”
More interested in getting her bearings, she’s content to let the mage do the talking for now. Gesturing at the iron door to their right, she whipsers “Does that lead to the storage room? And … you have cats?” She certainly didn’t expect the Gorumites to keep such pets.
Morga, too, politely declines Vildran's light, as she fears it would make her a brightly lit target for whatever is lying in wait.
At the sound of the voice, her eyes whip to its source. It can't by Great-aunt Hilga, can it? Her hand suddenly slick with sweat on her shield's grip, she asks: "Can you remove your hood? Show us who you are?" She holds the charcoal drawing of her great-aunt that was on the wall of her home in her mind's eye, telling herself that she shouldn't get her hopes up. She strides forward so that Vildran isn't undefended in case of a trap. Her shield is not raised, though she's ready to do so at a moment's notice.
San is immediately suspicious, both of the stranger and the cats. They didn't expect to see anyone else here besides foes so that's probably what they are. Despite this, he racks his brain to try to remember anything about acting strange they encounter.
The figure at the western end of the room shies back from the light. Its voice turns coy "Visitors, of a sort? Visitors drenched in blood, bearing weapons. But you missed out on most of it." The figure sighs "Missed the slaughter, such a shame." Vanda hisses.
Vildran's expression turns grim. His body turns rigid as he's now fully on-edge.
What slaughter are you referring to? In the pit of his stomach he fears they're about to hear familiar names.
San holds his tongue at the figure's comments. Instead he tries to calm the rising nausea at the remains to look for signs of Ordwi or Lord Ragnulf in whatever light Vildran's spell provides. Much like Vildran, he readies himself for whatever unsavory answer the presumed Azomi provides.