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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.