"Brown and wriggly. Sounds like rust creep. We've had some small success in treating it, but it's a stubborn disease and doesn't let go of its victims easily or quickly. I'm sorry for the deaths of your people." Morga bows her head respectfully.
"I agree Morga. I wonder how this door is similar or different to the entrance of the workshop... That one also inflicted the Rust Creep." Thinking on this problem for a moment, he speaks again. "Before we ponder the door, we have a more immediate problem. How to actually get there? There was a bridge across the chasm at one point." Addressing Glutu, "You wouldn't happen to know secret ways to get there?" With the last part of his question, San gestures westward in the general direction of the door.
Wriggly, okay. That's not quite how I would describe it, but I get it now.
Vildran glances at the tunnels to the West.
Yeah, they kind of head the right direction...
"Before we ponder the door, we have a more immediate problem. How to actually get there? There was a bridge across the chasm at one point."
Autum spreads out her arms and moves them up and down in a rubbery "flying" motion.
Glutu burbles his agreement regarding the stubbornness of rust creep, but attributes the inevitability to its "curse", saying "Not even the best paste mixers in the tribe could do anything for those that touched the door. The curse is too strong."
When San raises the question of how to reach the door, Glutu pauses and considers. He ends up responding with "The old way was the bridge, but the rust people broke it with their heavy steps. Now, the only way is to climb." He points westward "Past the filth den, the cliff has enough places to put hands and feet for even clumsy big people like yourselves. Then there is only a short way to reach the cursed door. Easy for boggards, of course. Maybe harder for you."
San can't help squinching his face at the news of having to pass through the "filth den". "Thank you for allowing us to pass through your spaces. There's one more errand we need to take care of before we attempt the climb though. Is it ok if we return shortly?"
"Suit yourselves, but tell us if you find any sign of dead rust people. It will be good for the Queen to return and take her rightful place here once we know its safe." Glutu crosses his arms and turns back to talk with Gurga. Just from the look of their discussion and Gurga waving her hands about, it must be a dramatic retelling of something.
Meanwhile you head back to see if Kikogamm has honored her offer. Approaching the tunnel where you encountered her, you discover a heft bundle sitting just within the circle of stones that marked the start of the elaborate trap. Tattered leather surrounds a collection of dusty items. Other than a few bones that Kikogamm seems to have included for fun, you find a suit of cold iron chain mail along with a decidedly battered scroll case (containing scrolls of revealing light (2nd) and summon lesser servitor (2nd)). Additionally, you find a beautiful steel rapier with an elaborately forged sweeping hilt adorned with pearls. If picked up, the rapier begins to very faintly glow with silver mist.
While you are inspecting the items, you see Kikogamm poke her head around the corner to the south before disappearing again the way she came.
Vildran shouts after her.
Thank you Kikogamm!
After handing over the scrolls to the proficient casters, San takes a minute to try to identify the magic obviously present in the rapier. "It might be noisy, but do you want to use this new armor? I think I remember something about the material being useful against demons."
Once everyone has made their preperations, San leads the way back to the boggards. "May we use your... filth... den now?"
"Hm. Good point. I'm not good at sneaking anyway, so might as well." Morga takes the time to doff her breastplate and don the cold iron chain mail. It's a little long for her, but doesn't impede her movement. She stows her breastplate near the stairs that lead back up to the surface, hoping it'll be there when they return.
"Vildran, do you want the scroll of Revealing Light? I'll hang onto the scroll of Summon Lessor Servitor."
When the party is ready to climb, she pulls out her rope. "I don't have a full climbing kit, but this'll still help. San, do you want to hold this end while I do the first climb with the other?"
Back with the boggards, Gurga takes a break from her animated storytelling to an enraptured audience in order to lead you all through to where the closest cliff point to the cursed door lies. This route leads past the "filth den", which turns out to be a terribly foul-smelling nook filled with rotting fungal matter and dead fish. While horrid to walk past, those of you who might be knowledgeable about rural life can tell its a purposeful compost pile rather than just random refuse. You skirt past it with Gurga in the lead and emerge on a wide ledge.
You can't see the rusty door from here, but you can see across to the broken bridge and the stairs leading back to the sub-basement of Rusthenge. The chasm wall here is plenty rough and at an incline that is steep enough to be nerve-wracking. There is an exceptionally narrow ledge about ten feet down that you may be able to sidle across to head toward the rusty door.
Do I want it? Yes! I would love to record it to my spellbook so we can make use of it over and over!
--------------------
Vildran slowly looks down over the ledge (big mistake).
Eep!
Mabye somebody can tie a rope between me and them once they get to the other side?
"Yeah, that's what I was thinking. San and I'll be anchors on either side while you and Autumn go across." Noting that San's got the rope tied securely around his torso, she grasps the other end of it and plants her feet in case he slips. "You two can grab on behind me if you want. Can't hurt to have more weight on this end, just in case."
Once it's Morga's turn , she secures the rope under her armpits and begins picking her way across the ledge, straining to reach the hand and foot holds that her longer-limbed allies used.
Happy to be away from the refuse, San looks for a better anchor for the rope than himself. He reaches out to give the others a hand to climb around as best he can.
Only once San has completely secured the rope between them does Vildran attempt to carefully step around the ledge.
Don't look down, don't look down.
Similarly... but keeping a cooler facade.
Don't look down, don't look down...
San adeptly climbs over to the rust door and braces himself against the wall as Vildran and Autumn follow using the rope. Vildran almost slips as he slowly and steadily inches his way across, but the rope holds and he stays safe enough. Autumn follows after him and balances her way along the narrow ledge with a bit more calm. Morga follows without too much difficulty. Before long you're standing safe in front of the towering, rust-covered metal door you saw when you first reached this floor.
The towering door is covered in thin, bladed ridges and sharp spikes that somehow look even more dangerous thanks to the flakes of rust covering their surfaces. A faint orange haze hangs over the surface of the door, much like the one that you saw when you first tried to make your way into the Skymetal Workshop. The door has no visible handles and looks like it needs to be pushed to open. However unlike the door above, this one has a hole for some kind of key on one side.
"Maybe our dead friend down there has the key." Morga gestures to the skeleton on the ledge, also glancing down to see if it looks like the goodies from Kikogamm came from this one or another source.
Autumn gets out her lockpicks and breaths in deeply.
Okay, may as well make use of this infection.
At first she lightly pushes her clothed shoulder into the door to see if it's even locked.
Assuming it is, she gets to work with the picks. Even already having rust creep, she does her best to only touch the far ends of the picks and minimize or never brush skin with the rusty door.
After that confirmation, Autumn sets to work opening the door. The moment she starts tinkering with the door's lock, the billowing rust from the door reaches out and engulfs her. Though she coughs, her condition doesn't seem to be immediately worsening. It takes her some more steady work but eventually she gets the tumblers all placed just so. She taps the door with the side of her hand and you hear a *clunk* from within. A moment later the door swings open.
---
Fibrous, vine-like coils of fungus grow on the walls of this next chamber, their tendrils clinging to the numerous cracks in the ancient stonework. A carpet of pungent, rust-colored mold coats the ground. Three skeletal remains, petrified from the mineral-rich water dripping from the ceiling above, lie slumped against the walls of the chamber. A shimmering, mostly transparent field of reddish-brown light blocks access to a larger room to the west.
Through the field you can make out a hazy scene - a wide chamber with a large stone dais surrounded by robed figures. Lines of runes cover the dais and glow with light. A prominent robed figured stands in front of a sacrificial altar with a body slumped across it.
You don't have much time to admire this ritual in progress because the fungus-encrusted room has three occupants. Three skeletons stand guard here, each one with bones browned with age and the unnatural presence that infuses this space. The one in the center rattles and speaks "You are the interlopers my son warned me about. Come to ruin this chance at redemption. Begone you wretches."
"You are the interlopers my son warned me about. Come to ruin this chance at redemption. Begone you wretches."
Morga strides up to the door, shield up and ready and mutters to Autumn, "Get what you can out of 'em, but do it quick and stay behind me."
She risks a quick glance at the glowing red wall of light. That's not natural, by any means.
Though it doesn’t have any worse effect upon her, Autumn can’t help but try to wave away the cloud of rust from the door, in the same disgusted way that one might try to disperse a noxious odor. When the door finally opens, she is only too happy to step behind the dwarf’s protective stance—she doesn’t trust the mold carpeting the ground in the slightest.
Seeing Morga’s quizzical look at the speaking skeleton, the sorceress responds in a confident undertone, “That’s Meitremar’s dear old dad, raised from the dead. Probably a spellcaster,” she guesses from the way it is unarmed, unlike its pickaxe-wielding companions. To the skeleton itself she holds up her open palms in a sign of peace. “Okay. Just admiring the fungus, then we’ll leave,” she lies, trying to buy some time for the others to prepare themselves.
Figuring now isn't the time to guess, San also tries to remember what he knows about skeletons.
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Vildran takes an extra look at the head skeleton once it is mentioned his is a fellow mage. He can't help but size himself up against the potential of one who is worth being brought back.
Autumn's answers earns a "You want to admire something, then admire the return of Xar-Azmak! My grandson finishes my great work. Prevails where fate stopped me early. Now off with you. You do not belong in this sacred place!" from the central skeleton.
Vildran and San are neither one particularly well informed regarding the creatures in front of you, but its easy enough to recognize the most simple of the undead when you see one. Skeletons are reanimated bones held together by void energy. Bludgeoning blows are the most effective way of putting them down. Its very unusual for one to be so clearly cognizant and talkative. However its not clear to either of you whether Autumn's suggestion is right or if this is simply some more powerful variant of skeletal undead.
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Vildran boldens just enough to ask
Do you have a spellbook? Maybe before your friend returns we can trade spells!
"I don't think Great Grandpa Demon Summoner here is going to be willing to trade spells right now..." With some reluctance, San stows the magic halberd and takes out the trusty magic warhammer.
"Out of the way skeletons, no demons are being summoned here if we can help it."
Morga draws her trusty light hammer as San speaks, and raises her shield. "Why would we walk off now, after all we've gone through to get here and stop this? Seriously. You're so fanatical you can't even think straight. And I think 'sacred' is the wrong word here." Morga briefly side-eyes the red light suspiciously. More like 'profane'.
While the warriors arm themselves, Autumn continues to eye the mold suspiciously. She even backs up next to Vildran, though that might just be an added precaution against the impending skeletal attack. “That ritual is so doomed,” she responds to grandpa skeleton. “How’s he going to succeed when he doesn’t have enough power from the spires, or the priestess he kidnapped?” She’s still puzzled as to why Zaiox was ordered to capture Ordwi—what was the point of that?
While readying herself for battle--with a spell to be cast at long range, of course--she whispers a quick consolation to the naïve wizard: “You can always take his spellbook after he’s dead.”
-
-
-
Autumn's mind turns to the mold coating the ground, which she's fairly sure isn't dangerous, probably. Meanwhile Morga eyes the shimmering field to the west. This hazy field is clearly some kind of barrier, but you're not at all sure what it might do or how it might operate. More patient study might reveal more of its secrets.
The lead skeleton rattles his skull in a strange imitation of a scoff at Vildran's comment "I have no need for contrivances such as those!" before responding to San and Morga "You foolish souls do not know what you pit yourselves against. I have waited for time without memory for this moment. You will not stop anything!" Autumn opens her mouth to say the ritual is doomed, but she's interrupted by the lead skeleton springing into action. Clearly he's decided that they won't be able to repel you with words alone.
His bony hands flare up with orange light as he casts a spell upon your group! He follows by shouting "Grandson! They come to interfere with you. Finish your work soon or not at all!"
A sudden, withering blight washes over the four of you, decaying any particularly loose articles you may be wearing and eating away at your vitality.
|||| INIT ||||
Autumn (12 dmg, Stg 1 rust creep)
Morga (6 dmg)
San (12 dmg)
Vildran (6 dmg)
??? Skeleton Spellcaster
Red Skeleton guard
Yellow Skeleton guard
“You can always take his spellbook after he’s dead.”
Vildran shrugs.
I suppose so. They certainly look like they're going to attack us soon...
Then the void washes over him. He just resists doubling over. After, he doesn't waste time unloading three sizeable bolts of flame. All three fly over the two subservient skeletons and speed towards the spellcaster.
San strides through the rust colored room to threaten one of the skeletons. Swinging his hammer, he follows up with a kick to attempt to drop the thing to the ground.
Autumn clutches herself and hunches over, grimacing painfully at the skeleton’s draining spell. But buoyed by the elves’ success in downing the two mundane skeletons so quickly, she steels herself and dashes into the room, flinging a phase bolt at the talkative skeleton once she rounds the corner. She tries her best to ignore the room’s horrid color scheme.
Grimly, Morga tromps into the moldy room, deliberately not looking through the shining red wall of light. Eyes hard, she casts Vitality Lash at the remaining skeleton. Shut up, she growls in her mind.
-
Autumn's phase bolt lances between the last skeleton's bones, but Morga's can't be so easily dodged. The enemy partially resists the attack, but is still injured by the surge of vital energy.
The remains of Meitremar's grandfather clatter with rage "You will not PASS!" He raises both hands and a surge of void energy washes out across Morga, San and Autumn. Amid the magical attack San finds an opening and delivers a blow to the enemy's back.
Although she's at the edge of the necromantic surge, Autumn is still caught unprepared. She feels life drain from her body. San and Morga are closer to the epicenter and are even worse off. As the magic drains them, they see the skeleton in front of them invigorated, its bones healing and knitting back together.
|||| INIT ||||
Autumn (22 dmg, Stg 1 rust creep)
Morga (26 dmg)
San (32 dmg)
Vildran (6 dmg)
??? Skeleton Spellcaster (5 dmg)
Not really having any other options, San grits his teeth through the wave of pain. Lashing back out with the warhammer, San strikes at the horrid creature. "Damn thing is draining us! Do the opposite back to it!"
Welp. This doesn't bode well. If the dead one's this powerful, how bad is the living one? Will all the struggle, all the fighting, all the dying and rising again and again be for naught, here at the end? Morga refuses to dwell on these thoughts, though they do flick through her mind. Instead, she scowls and casts a healing spell.
Vildran sees what washed over his teammates and elects to continue standing back. A trio of force shards flies over their heads to hit the mage-skeleton.
Autumn grits her teeth as another wave of necromantic energy shreds her vitality, but is pleasantly surprised to feel the damage undone by Morga’s healing spell. She flicks an appreciative look at the dwarf, then glares banefully at the skeleton and channels another phase bolt at it, knowing that they need to destroy this thing quickly before it can heal itself again.
The skeleton is further pummeled by a force barrage it can't hope to dodge, and though it shakes off Autumn's jealous hex, the seeking phase bolt from her strikes its skull. Its broken bones start to shake with some kind of strange energy, orange light leaking from the fractures you've delivered, and yet the skeleton somehow manages to keep standing! He slashes San with his claw (narrowly missing), then steps back and knits himself partially back together with a flash of rust-filled light.
|||| INIT ||||
Autumn (11 dmg, Stg 1 rust creep)
Morga (15 dmg)
San (21 dmg)
Vildran (6 dmg)
??? Skeleton Spellcaster (38 dmg)
Vildran concentrates on his staff...
and then incants another trio of force shards at the skele-mage.
Thinking the end of this creature is near, despite his continuing to repair himself, San dances back toward the claws. Positioning himself to let Morga easily flank if she so chooses, San lashes out twice. Once to strike, once to trip.
Pressing their advantage, Autumn fires another phase bolt at the deteriorating skeleton, then stares daggers at the reanimated mage, her one eye seeming to dissolve into an unspoken threat.
Nodding at San's tactic, Morga steps in to flank the skeleton and takes a couple of swings at it.
While he shields himself from the worst of the bone shards raining upon him, he still gets cut by several.
Combat Over! You each gain 80 XP
|||| STATUS ||||
Autumn (11 dmg, Stg 1 rust creep)
Morga (15 dmg)
San (23 dmg, Stg 1 rust creep)
Vildran (6 dmg)
---------------------------------
With the demise of the skeleton that was once Meitremar's grandfather, the hazy field of force blocking access to the ritual chamber fails. You glimpsed this chamber's contents before, but now they're in much clearer detail. In the center of this fifty-five-foot-wide, cross-shaped room stands a five-foot-tall stone dais. Lines of runes cover the dais in seemingly random patterns. Standing before the dais, to the east, is a stone altar covered in fresh blood. A man’s discarded corpse lies sprawled across it.
Closest to you, a figure in rust-colored robes stands before the altar, chanting from a tome bound in mottled leather and periodically blowing into a rusted horn. Three more robed figures kneel around the dais. A wispy rust-red vapor extends from their mouths and eyes. The vapor rises up from them to coalesce into an indistinct silhouette atop the altar, that of a massive horned demonic figure that seems to be rising from a pool of undulating light that sits at the altar's center.
This is very clearly a ritual in progress, and one close to completion at that. However you can see from the faces of the cult members engaged in the ritual that not all is well. They are rushing their parts now that their protection has been lost. The leader of the group blows the rusty horn and a low rumbling sound, like old metal grinding against stone, fills the room. Motes of dust on the floor dance and shudder from the vibrations. Your skulls pulse with pain and your teeth ache in their sockets. The three other cultists fall back into a practiced rhythm.
For now, they do not interrupt their ritual.
“So dramatic,” Autumn scoffs at the skeleton’s destruction. With the force field down, and not much time to interrupt the ritual, she calls out to their wizard. “Vildran! Get in here!” With a feeling that their cleric will want to bolster them all with some healing first, she looks Morga in the eye and advises “Be quick about it.”
For her own part, the sorcerer takes a healing potion out of her pocket and steals her way forward, hugging close to the wall until she reaches a corner just outside the ritual chamber. There she waits with bated breath for her companions. Part of her still can’t believe how she ended up down here, trying to save the world from a crazed cult deep within the bowels of a Thassilonian ruin—and another part of her wants to make that Meitremar bastard pay for getting her involved in all this.
Hearing Autumn, Vildran scurries into the room, keeping close to the wall and sliding until he arrives next to her.
He begins carefully scanning the walls around this red-hazed room, wondering if there is anything that they'd missed before moving on.
Specifically, he's scanning walls and floors for mechanisms, traps, and passages they may have missed.
"On it!" Morga channels healing power for the whole group once everyone's close enough together.
Her hand slips toward the scroll of Summon Lesser Servitor. It seems like the time to use all the resources at their disposal.
With her injuries completely healed by Morga’s magic, Autumn trades out her potion for a small vial of potency oil and applies it to her crossbow, trying to gain whatever advantage they can get; for the same reason she tries to stay hidden in a little corner. Meanwhile she gestures for Vildran to cross over to the northwest corner on the other side of the room—remembering how grandpa skeleton blasted them all at once, she’d prefer that the wizard spread out more, or at least avoid offering a tempting cluster—especially one that includes her—to target.