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Right, so best bet is we trap it in a room, hoping there are no more cultists around to let it out. Slim chance. Wait, why do people say "fat" chance? The words are opposite but the phrases are equivalent...
“But if you’re really worried about the fungus wolf? This time, if Morga tells you to ‘back up’, do it.” She winks.
He looks briefly ashamed, and down at his feet as he speaks.
I know... fog of war. I'll react quicker this time!
With the little burst of enthusiasm he looks up again, smiling.
On request, he hands his staff to Autumn. He eyes the vessel of his arcane bond nervously, but, ultimately trusting Autumn, he gets over it.
Just a reflex... he thinks.
Indeed the door radiates magic to Vildran's sight. When Autumn approaches with her scarf-on-a-stick, it glows brightly. She reaches out to try to deface the runes with a bit of deft rubbing... but she's not quite quick enough. The door's aura reaches out in turn and rapidly engulfs her in a brown haze. Rusty dust rasps gently against her skin. Thankfully the reach of the door is not enough to capture any of the rest of you.
Unfortunately things do not go well for Autumn. As the rust aura retracts back into the door you see that she's looking far less energetic. A series of bruises bloom along her face and any exposed skin.
The door remains solidly closed, and other than the risk of further exposure, it seems you should be able to try again.
“So heinous!” Autumn mutters with a scowl, more frustrated by her failure than anything else. The rusty bruises now covering her hands are scorched by a withering glare. It’s one thing for the dwarf or the elf to be marred by such an affliction—a few bruises don’t matter when you’re not much to look at to begin with. But for such imperfections to be visited upon her …
A grim determination seeps into her voice. “San, I’ll need to borrow that luck you had earlier. Or,” she turns to look questioningly at Morga, “maybe you could ask for Desna’s favor?” With whatever luck she can gather, the sorceress steadies herself, then again tries to erase the runes, this time with an almost forceful vengeance.
"Wait, Autumn! Let me cast Guidance on you first."
A touch of divine inspiration, and a little heroic luck, is exactly what Autumn needs to scratch a rune before the door can touch her with that cursed aura a second time. The rusty aura around the door recedes, giving you an open moment to touch the surface of the door. At that touch, it parts, rumbling as the ancient magic opens the massive metal panels.
The corridor beyond is clear. This hallway features a black marble floor and large murals on the east and west walls. Massive doors flank this hallway to the north and south. The mural on the western wall depicts an imperious woman standing victorious and invincible, the mangled bodies of her presumed enemies around her. The the east, the mural depicts the same woman surrounded by other tall and important-looking figures, all of whom are bowing down before her. Twisted remains of the two bull-like armors have been swept to the sides of this room, but otherwise still appear as you left them (that is to say, totally destroyed).
The door to the north is closed. There's no rust aura around this one, so it should open at a touch like the one you just passed through.
Exhaling a triumphant sigh of relief, Autumn gives Morga a grateful look as the door swings open. “Thank Desna.”
She quietly creeps forward, listening intently for the sounds of cultists, or fungus hounds, or a weird mechanical apparatus spinning out of control, but she stops short of the next door, waiting for someone else to open it. She’s done her part with the first door.
Vildran holds out his hand to take his staff back from Autumn. He feels slightly more anxious without it. He then crosses the length of the room, eying the next door. He's happy to ope it, but he's not going to do so before listening at it for several moments.
"I'll work on healing you tonight." Morga mumbles to Autumn as she shuffles wearily toward the next door. Her shield hangs low at her side; it's too much effort to hold it properly while fighting to keep her eyelids up as well. Before opening the door, she joins Vildran in listening for sounds on the other side of it. Also, it's a chance to quietly rest her brow on the cool surface of the door for a brief moment.
If there doesn't seem to be anyone or thing there, she'll open the door once everyone's ready.
Almost absent-mindedly, Autumn hands the staff back to Vildran, her scarf still attached. A simple nod acknowledges Morga’s offer. Like the others, she is focused on listening at the door.
San feels a wave of sorrow and frustration coming on as Autum's arms are enveloped by the rust flakes and bruises are left behind. If one has to get it, it's better that way than at the jaws of that foul creature. Fighting it back, he states, "Thank you for doing that Autumn... The first days weren't terrible for me. Hopefully you recover quickly."
At the next door, he stands a couple paces back and holds his bow ready.
-
Unfortunately, you don't get a chance to prepare, as Morga touching the surface of the cool metal with her forehead counts as a touch, so the door immediately begins to swing open!
The room beyond is much as you left it. Marble floors and stairs lead up to a centralized dais, drawing attention to the bloody stone altar at the center of the room. A twisted apparatus of strange metals and rusty disks hangs above the altar and stretches along the ceiling. Motifs of a seven-pointed star appear on most doorways, and on all sides of the altar, as do images of spiky horseshoes of rusted iron. The room is brightly lit by over a dozen torches.
Two robed figures stand next to the altar, attending to the still-bleeding corpse of a wild dog. Standing near them is the cythnigot, fully healed from its injuries. They're surprised by your appearance, but you're all surprised by the door opening when you weren't quite ready. Autumn is the quickest to respond.
|||| INIT ||||
Autumn (Stage 1 Rust Creep)
Blue Rustsworn Initiate
Red Rustsworn Initiate
Vlorian Cythnigot
San
Morga
Vildran
Before Autumn can share what she hears, the door unexpectedly swings open. Fortunately she has an inkling as to what to expect, so she is able to react instantly. She reflexively raises her crossbow, points, and looses a quarrel at the nearest cultist, but it's clear that she's never actually used this weapon before. It's one thing to watch San effortlessly rain arrow after arrow upon their foes; it's quite another to attempt it yourself, and her bolt zings away upwards, bounces off the ceiling, and comes perilously close to striking the twisted apparatus.
Cursing under her breath, she quickly follows up with a spell, hoping to silence the cultists before they can raise an alarm—the cythnigot is dangerous and scary, but it can’t call for reinforcements. The robed figure is just out of range of her trusty phase bolt, so she instead reaches further, extending her fingers like claw-like branches to magically tear into his mind. But, distracted by her failure with the crossbow, her effort is feeble at best.
Though you know the beast's bite to carry the rust creep, Vildran manages to resist infection for now!
|||| INIT ||||
Vlorian Cythnigot
San
Morga
Vildran (15 dmg)
Autumn (Stage 1 Rust Creep)
Blue Rustsworn Initiate
Red Rustsworn Initiate (2 dmg)
The door is brightly magical to Vildran's senses - unsurprising given its ability to open at just a touch.
Aaaaa... AH! At first he thinks he can grit and bear the pain, but it soon overwhelms him.
Reflexively he activates his staff, setting it aflame, and swings it down at the cythnigot.
Regathering his whits, he carefully steps back behind Morga, grunting in frustration.
All the plans of how to approach are sent fleeing from San's mind as the cynthigot is again chomping on his friends. Sometimes the simplest plans are best... Setting his feet, he fires two arrows at the beast.
Whatever luck Autumn had gleaned from the dwarf’s cantrip is evidently still with her: frozen in awestruck terror at the sight of the charging cythnigot, she stands rooted to the spot, but there is no need to move—thankfully the hideous beast savages the wizard instead.
Only when Vildran sets the fungus hound on fire does she snap out of her daze. Cupping one hand to her mouth, she unleashes an eerie, draining static, inaudible to all but its intended victims, a vibrating noise that’ll make your ears bleed. Then she follows the mage’s good sense, dashing behind San so that she doesn’t get in the way of his arrows—which fortuitously also provides her with an elven shield.
... Curses. Morga sighs inwardly after the door opens at her forehead's touch.
Curses! She cries in her mind as the cythnigot savages Vildran's leg. She's too slow, too tired, too sluggish to protect him! Autumn has the right idea, though. Thankfully, both of them fall back so Morga can protect them. Taking a page from Autumn's book, she also casts Haunting Hymn to make their foes' ears bleed. Hers sounds more like an anguished cry, but slams into the same two combatants with more force than her fatigued body can currently muster.
She sags, but manages to lug her shield into a protective position, but is too slow to manage stepping forward to provide better cover for her friends.
The cythnigot bounds into your midst before unleashing a writhing display of twisted, fungus-ridden flesh that is utterly repellant.
The appalling display leaves all of you reeling . Smelling weakness, the cythnigot tries to bite again at Vildran, but the tangle of limbs from everyone doubled over and sick somehow plays to your advantage and it misses! The remaining initiate draws a dagger and rushes at Morga, but even with her debilitated he's unable to do more than scratch her armor.
|||| INIT ||||
San (sickened 1)
Morga (sickened 2)
Vildran (sickened 1, 15 dmg)
Autumn (sickened 1, Stage 1 Rust Creep)
Blue Rustsworn Initiate
Vlorian Cythnigot (6 dmg)
*Hurk*
He stifles a retch, and after muttering a bit of draconic to himself shouts at it RUN, mangy beast!
Success The creature is unaffected.
Failure The creature must spend the first action on its next turn to obey your command.
Critical Failure The target must use all its actions on its next turn to obey your command.
He then quickly steps over by San.
Clutching her stomach at the hound’s nauseating display, it’s all Autumn can do to keep her breakfast down. We need to end this soon, she thinks, knowing that the lucky misses from their foes won’t last forever. But she remembers how the cythnigot had resisted practically all of her spells in their previous encounters; she also remembers the extra problems they had with enemy reinforcements. Time to choose a different target.
Taking an anxious breath, the sorceress steels herself and suddenly dashes past the fungus beast, running into the grand altar room so that she has a clear shot at the remaining initiate. There she thrusts out her hand, funneling a flickering arcane bolt down her arm and at the robed figure. She can only hope that the cythnigot remains distracted by her companions.
San can't help it. As soon as the nauseating display takes effect, his stomach decides it's had enough. Fighting past the involuntary retching, San loads up an arrow and fires point blank while stepping to one side. "Get away from the thing! Let Morga and I try to keep it at bay."
"<BLEURGGGHHH!!!!>" Morga's reaction to the cythnigot's stench is immediate and intense, spewing her breakfast all over its already gross-looking body.
She gasps for breath, wishing the air smelled less foul, and almost loses it again. She manages to hold it together just enough to cast Bless. "Get 'em," she rasps hoarsely, then spits another foul glob at the cythnigot again.
-
Although the party makes little headway this round, a small spot of luck shines as Vildran's spell seems to catch its hooks into the infested fiend's mind. It hesitates for a moment, then turns and bolts for a few seconds before rushing back in to engage once more. Having run directly away from Vildran, Autumn is now the closest target for its ire. Its jaws find an easy victim in the sickened sorcerer and it bites hard upon her arm. The surviving initiate looks at Morga around the corner and nervously backs off - even sick she seems too fair a fight for his liking. He instead steps and strides over to gang up on Autumn, landing a shallow slash with his dagger.
|||| INIT ||||
San (sickened 1)
Morga (sickened 2)
Vildran (sickened 1, 15 dmg)
Autumn (sickened 1, 14 dmg, Stage 1 Rust Creep)
Blue Rustsworn Initiate
Vlorian Cythnigot (7 dmg)
No...
No sooner does the Cythnigot run from his successful spell than he realized that it will find Autumn.
Spreading his arms wide amidst a draconic incantation he emits a burst of forceful shards that speed towards it.
“Don’t send it towards me!” Autumn exclaims in an aggrieved voice at Vildran. She had expected Morga and San to keep the cythnigot occupied—indeed, the archer had said as much—so she is surprised when the beast races to attack her instead. The cultist’s dagger only adds insult to injury.
But beyond the stabbing pain and gushing blood there is a white point of anger, a rage born from the bloody teeth marks now embedded in her tattoo. “So. Not. Cool.” With a silent, furious scream she envelops her foes in a noxious vibrato that would liquefy their organs if she had her way. But vengeance still doesn’t override self-preservation—she then quickly darts behind San for safety.
Deciding it's time for something different, San draws the antler arrow from his quiver, focuses a little bit of power into it, and fires at the cynthigot. "Hopefully this gives us a little breathing room."
Now that Autumn's back behind her, Morga adds her own agonized scream to the fray, casting Haunting Hymn on the cultist and the cythnigot. As before, she's too worn down to put as much oomph into it as Autumn can.
If there are any other cultists around, surely they've heard all this racket and are on their way to join the fight. She hefts her shield up to protect herself and hopes the cythnigot finally dies before the reinforcements come.
San lashes out with a kick as the cynthigot flees from Vildran's spell.
-
-
-
San's arrow connects, and while the attack only scratches the cythnigot, the transforming arrow grows its long antlers and pins the beast to the floor! Another magical scream from Morga rolls over both foes, leaving them both looking very badly injured.
The cythnigot tugs the antler arrow free, but rather than flee it stands its ground and bares its fangs. The fungal stalk on its back glows and twists out an intricate pattern as the creature casts a spell.
San is wracked by a phantom pain that blooms in his chest. The initial assault is intense, but a lingering pain grips him afterward The initiate rushes in with his dagger to try to finish the job against San, but even with the elf debilitated the initiate just can't land a hit.
|||| INIT ||||
San (13 dmg, sickened 1, 2d4 persistent mental)
Morga (sickened 2)
Vildran (sickened 1, 15 dmg)
Autumn (sickened 1, 14 dmg, Stage 1 Rust Creep)
Blue Rustsworn Initiate (6 dmg)
Vlorian Cythnigot (37 dmg)
Encouraged by their progress against the cythnigot, Vildran repeats the spell!
San's momentary triumph with the magic arrow is dashed as the cynthigot quickly frees itself. Whatever the cynthigot did this time causes San's stomach to rebel again and try to clear him out. Feeling much better he takes two shots, trying to finish off the beast.
Autumn tilts her head and furrows her brow when the fungal stalk glows and twists—something seems oddly familiar, but she can’t quite place it. If only she had a moment to think.
But now is not the time. Whatever the cythnigot did has no apparent effect to her eyes, and with their foes bloodied and battered, and momentarily ineffective, the sorceress moves forward to press their advantage. Irritated at the fungus dog’s defiance of her previous spell, she doubles down and unleashes another jarring penetration of eerily silent ringing.
Morga adds her ragged scream to Autumn's sonic battering of the foes, then hunkers down behind her shield. It feels so much heavier than normal. If only she could sleep for a year...
As the ringing in your own ears fades you realize you've finally triumphed over the cythnigot!
Combat Over. You each gain 90 XP
While your fight was far from subtle, it seems the clash did not disturb the strange and horrible apparatus above the altar. Nor do you hear the sounds of anyone else approaching or any alarm raised deeper within. All the doors exiting from this room in directions other than the one you entered from are currently closed.
Vildran stares at the unmoving cythnigot for several moments, in disbelief.
He slowly approaches, at first very gingerly as if it might pop back up on its feet.
We did it. We bested it.
San has another arrow nocked and aimed before he realizes the beast isn't getting back up. Holding his aim steady for a moment longer in case he was mistaken, "Good job with the spells... screams... whatever it was you were doing. I think I might just have a sit down for a moment if that's OK. Whatever that thing did at the end there really took it out of me." As he says the last part, a trickle of blood oozes from his nose.
With a huge sigh of relief, Autumn visibly relaxes, feeling the tension of battle drain away. The adrenaline pours out of her now that the cythnigot is finally dead, and with it comes her breakfast, repeatedly.
She nods feebly at San in between vomits. “Do you think we have time to bandage our wounds?” She glances around at the silent doors.
Gagging, Morga manages to choke out a few words: "No idea. I'll--<urk>" She turns to heave into the corner.
At some point in the ordeal, she wonders if she's going to retch hard enough to see her shoes come flying out of her mouth. Eventually, the sickness passes. She wipes her mouth on her sleeve, grimacing at the thought of all the laundry she'll have to do after this. Puke and blood stains. *Great.* With a deep sigh, she turns around to give the cythnigot an exhausted and resentful glare as she listens for sounds of approaching threats.
If it seems like no one's coming, she'll begin treating everyone's wounds.
It takes a minute afterward for the nausea to settle in everyone, but eventually you clear your stomachs and your minds. Vildran inspects the remains of the cythnigot, but while there are clearly fungal growths across its body and the main stalk of the creature is still largely intact, he's not sure if there's anything there that is safe to reuse in alchemical work. As a strange fungal entity, there's a chance that any spores remaining from the cythnigots body could grow into a new cythnigot.
Morga does a circuit of the room listening for any incoming dangers, but hears nothing other than the intermittent scraping and clinking of the overhead apparatus. You all settle down and she treats people's wounds before delivering some additional magical healing. The half hour that takes is tense, but you get lucky and no one comes to investigate the hall.
After Morga does her thing, San gives her a gracious smile. He thinks back to the last time they were here fleeing... "There's some common room and a maze of cooridors off that way. Sounded busy last time. Want to see what's on this side?"
With her stomach purged and her wounds fully healed, Autumn feels a renewed sense of confidence. “Third time’s the charm,” she smiles as she stands next to Vildran, looking down at their dead nemesis. When informed that spores from the cythnigot could propagate into a new creature, she firmly shakes her head. “That is so not happening. We need to burn this thing.” After all they’ve been through to kill the beast—and the likely source of the plague—she’s not risking it coming back like some zombie. Taking out a torch, set lights it and sets the corpse on fire.
At San’s suggestion, she nods quickly in agreement while reloading her crossbow in preparation. “Let’s hope the other side is less crowded with cultists.” As quietly as she can, she approaches the nearest door on the right and listens for any signs of life, then beckons Morga to take the lead in opening it should it seem safe.
Wearily, Morga nods and heaves up her shield as she joins Autumn at the door. She, too, listens for sounds on the other side--*without* touching it, just in case. When the party is ready, she quietly turns the handle to reveal what's on the other side.
Meanwhile in the central chamber, the remains of the cythnigot smolder a little before going out. Beyond some extremities tt's simply too damp to catch fire easily.
As soon as Vildran is done taking in their victory, he doubles over and loses his lunch. By the time he's done, the waves of nausea have passed.
It then occurs to him that the cythnigot, being fungal in nature, could grow new individuals.
Despite Autumn setting a torch to the cythnigot, Vildran points his staff at it and continuously flames it until it is cremated into oblivion .
Echoing Autumn, he remarks Indeed. SO not happening.
But if it's still not really burning, Vildran will suggest that on their way out they crate up the remains and drop them into the bay.
--------------------
Detecting a couple of magical effects in the next room, Vildran focuses in on them and gets to work.
"Before you get to comfortable checking these over, let me take a look." San investigates the magic pendants for a few moments before handing them back to Vildran.
Once they is done with the magical trinkets, "Well, nothing else exciting in here... Moving on to the next one." His confidence is apparently bolstered by finally killing the cynthigot the way he's ready to keep moving through the complex.
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As is becoming the norm, Autumn pockets the coins for safekeeping while leaving the magical pendants for others to identify. She’s not particularly keen on delaying so long to examine objects that may or may not be of any immediate use—it’s fine for San to take just a minute or two, but the elf with the expressive antennae is literally as slow as an elf. Surely they can wait until later for such a thorough investigation?
She nods in agreement with San, and goes to listen at the next door on the right side. Once again though, she waits for Morga to have the ‘honor’ of actually opening it.
Once she's assured that no threats are in the small room, Morga stands aside to allow the others to search it. As Vildran begins seriously studying one of the pendants, she nudges him and pleads tiredly: "Vildran, my great-aunt is still down here, and it's been so long already. Please, let's go." She turns to follow Autumn out of the room to the next door and listens at it until the others are ready for her to open it, just like last time.
Vildran's antennae jump with a start as he realizes he's lingering too long on the items.
Oh! Yes, of course.
Sometimes he gets lost in things.
Not wasting any time, you inspect the next door to the north, and find the door to the silent and not locked. Morga opens the way to reveal rather modest chambers that combine a bedroom and study. A dusty mattress on a rickety frame sits the north. To the south sit a desk and a chest of drawers. Standing atop the desk is a rusted iron sculpture depicting a mountain with a dagger buried in its side. Next to the sculpture is a half written note addressed to "my fellow followers of Gorum" that urges the Gorumites to move to Rusthenge to start the next phase of their trials. Much of the note is written in a shaky hand and several sections are scratched out. Atop the note is a key ring with two similar-looking rusty iron keys.
Vildran's detect magic pings in the room, and with a little experimentation you find the aura is coming from the sculpture.