Autumn goes silent, not answering the others as she strains to hear what Meitremar is doing. She gives San a quiet nod, agreeing with the idea about pressing the cultist, but holds up a hand to stop him from charging in—in her mind, it would be better to set up an ambush, unless Meitremar absolutely refuses to come out. If only they knew what he was up to—the sound of spellcasting is worrying even if it’s not unexpected.
An idea pops into her head. The sorceress half-closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, concentrating on pushing her magic farther than she ever has before; a few moments later, the sound of quiet, stealthy footsteps manifests near the altar, as if someone (possibly invisible) was trying to sneak up on the madman. Hopefully the illusory sound would force the madman to show his hand.
Safe-ish, for now, Morga uses Gurga's wand to heal herself, then stows the wand.
Unsure if there's enough time to Treat Wounds, Morga listens for sounds of approach.
If she doesn't hear impending approach, she walks over to Vildran and pulls out her Healer's toolkit to begin Treating Wounds.
If she does hear impending approach, she quickly grabs the scroll of Summon Lesser Servitor and raises her shield.
Vildran gets a sudden thought.
Meitremar may turn invisbible and try to sneak by us. We need to block the passage so he has to go through us.
You talk through your next moves and Morga heals herself. Focusing to extend her reach, Autumn throws an auditory illusion off beyond the wall. There's no obvious verbal response to it, but you can hear Meitremar casting another spell followed by blowing the horrible demonic horn once more. Neither has an obvious effect that you observe.
Morga listens carefully for any approaching footsteps, but hears nothing other than those from Autumn's figment.
|||| INIT ||||
Vildran (15 dmg)
San (8 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1) x2
Morga (17 dmg)
Autumn (Rust Creep Stg 1)
Meitremar (2 dmg)
Vildran rubs his eyes and tries again.
Autumn, I can create this same illusion and, for the life of me, I cannot see through yours! You have a talent for illusion.
Finally the weight visibly lifts from him, and his expression softens. Smiling, he remarks There.
Not having much else to do while the others prepare, San stares at the wall he knows is fake but looks so real...
As the illusion fades away, he keeps a lookout for their foe to show himself. "We're giving him an awful lot of time to prepare... Maybe use that summon scroll and go? I don't like the sound of that horn going off again."
Unsure if there's enough time to Treat Wounds, Morga listens for sounds of approach.
If she doesn't hear impending approach, she walks over to Vildran and pulls out her Healer's toolkit to begin Treating Wounds.
If she does hear impending approach, she quickly grabs the scroll of Summon Lesser Servitor and raises her shield.
Morga listens carefully for any approaching footsteps, but hears nothing other than those from Autumn's figment.
It doesn't sound like Meitremar is approaching, but it does sound like he's trying to do *something*. Urrgh. There probably isn't enough time! Wishing she had time to fully Treat Vildran's Wounds (and the rest of San's and hers), she snatches up the scroll of Summon Lesser Servitor and raises her shield.
“Meitremar may turn invisible and try to sneak by us. We need to block the passage so he has to go through us.”
Autumn gives the wizard a puzzled look, glances at the doorway right beside them, then looks at him again. She clearly doesn’t understand his suggestion—how else would Meitremar escape other than going through the door that they are flanking right now? What more does he want to do?
Unlike San, the sorceress is quite pleased to hear the terrible horn. The cultist might be casting spells to heal or protect himself, but she feels certain that the foul artifact has no such beneficial use. The horn is meant to harm, corrupt, and destroy, so its usage means that he’s fallen for her ruse. If she can trick him into wasting all its powers, so much the better. She briefly considers renewing her illusion, but decides that uncertainty is better than pushing her luck.
“Autumn, I can create this same illusion and, for the life of me, I cannot see through yours! You have a talent for illusion.”
Autumn responds with a wink and a smile. But when San seems anxious to charge ahead, she silently points at the cloud of fumes, then meaningfully holds her nose. She’s not adverse to the idea of taking the battle to the cultist, but in her mind they should wait until the debilitating mist is gone, then go together. Of course, they could also just stay here and treat their wounds if he refuses to come out.
In the meantime, she remains quietly hidden. Bracing herself against the door jamb, she raises her crossbow and sights it across the room, waiting patiently for the cultist to properly present himself as a target.
Autumn gives the wizard a puzzled look, glances at the doorway right beside them, then looks at him again. She clearly doesn’t understand his suggestion—how else would Meitremar escape other than going through the door that they are flanking right now? What more does he want to do?
For a moment all is quiet, and then a figure rushes out from around the corner. Meitremar has clearly not spent the intervening second idly. A shadowy aura surrounds him, filled with a swirling storm of metal shards. With the horn in one hand and a glowing pickaxe in the other he advances with purpose toward your team. The hit Autumn cleanly lands upon him seems to barely bother him at all.
From the other side of the cloud, he weaves a familiar spell. A blast of blight engulfs the four of you!
A surge of fortitude from San allows him to weather the burst without any injury, while the rest of you suffer to varying extents .
|||| INIT ||||
Vildran (23 dmg)
San (8 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1)
Morga (21 dmg)
Autumn (8 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1)
Meitremar (11 dmg, rust aura 5ft, )
I'm really not in the mood to die again... he mutters before executing another incantation.
He skulks just inside of the door.
“Spread out!” Autumn exclaims, annoyed that they would all be caught in another blast of destructive magic. Though, glancing over at Morga and seeing that the dwarf has been affected too, she realizes that the spell must be more powerful and extensive than she had thought.
She quickly reloads her crossbow, then looses another hasty quarrel at the mad cultist’s chest, before dashing to safety out of his line of sight and, hopefully, beyond the reach of his area spells too.
Bolstered by his shrugging off the effects of the spell, San charges at the mad mage through the disgusting mists.
Rrrrgh! If only there'd been more time to heal! At least she's ready with the scroll of Summon Lesser Servior, which she begins reading promptly. It's a long one, and she feels like she's reading a novel while her friends are being killed one by one while she dithers, but finally a Lyrakien appears beside Vildran .
-
-
Meitremar, rather than backing off, confidently steps up toward San "Alone? Perfect. The teeth of Xar-Azmak will tear you apart." Meitremar focuses for a moment, during which his visage seems to grow more menacing. Then, he swings in with his pick.
Though San stands firm in the face of Meitremar's baneful visage, the cultist gets a very lucky swing in with his pick. The weapon stabs deep in a soft spot in his armor and bites deep . Worse however than the pick is the whirl of rusty shards that now surrounds San. They seem to have a life of their own as they begin to bite and tear at the elf.
The cloud of rusty metal whirling around Meitremar shreds through San. He falls with a spray of rusty red.
|||| INIT ||||
Vildran (23 dmg)
San (36 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1, prone, dying 1)
Morga (21 dmg) + Lyrakien (x2)
Autumn (8 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1)
Meitremar (11 dmg, rust aura 5ft, bane aura 15ft)
Vildran does not want to approach Meitremar alone at the moment. Instead he sneaks to the opposite side of the room just outside of the cloud.
The Lyrakien looks around in bewilderment at its sudden summoning, but immediately discerns who the foe is in this situation. She flies through the cloud of nastiness and sends a starlight ray at Meitremar.
Morga casts Guidance on Autumn, then dashes after the Lyrakien, shouting: "Keep my allies alive, and kill the rust cultist with the horn and the beard!"
Too many commands! The Lyrakien can't do both effectively, so she focuses on the first one for now.
Seeing San charge off in a show of bravado, Autumn dashes to the door, anxious to watch what happens … and it isn’t good. Even though Morga’s tiny celestial helps heal the bloody, gaping hole in the elf’s armor, the whirlwind of rusty metal shards still threatens to cut him to pieces. He won’t last much longer, especially with their cleric completely drained of healing, and it’s then that she realizes: it’s do or die. The only way to save him is to kill Meitremar.
“San, finish him off!” The sorceress quickly loads a bolt into her crossbow, then carefully aims and fires through the mist.
As the very air around him slices and cuts, San decides to persevere. Slashing with the halberd, he retreats to what he hopes is an unreachable space.
-
-
Meitremar takes advantage of the breathing room to heal himself. He then strides away, moving to the opposite side of the ritual chamber from San. From what you can see of him from behind the cloud of metal, he seems worn down - it shouldn't take much more to finish him off.
|||| INIT ||||
Vildran (23 dmg)
San (32 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1)
Morga (21 dmg) + Lyrakien
Autumn (8 dmg, Rust Creep Stg 1)
Meitremar (35 dmg, rust aura 5ft, bane aura 15ft)
“Finish him, San!” Autumn urges when she sees Meitremar retreat, healing himself instead of attacking. Even though the elf is badly wounded, she knows that he’s their best chance at ending the cultist, especially since he’s beyond the range of all her spells … except for her illusions.
Glancing over at Morga’s summoned ally, an idea pops into her head. Scrutinizing the sprite carefully, she forms a mental image in her mind, concentrating … and summons another lyrakien at the far side of the chamber, flying up next to the ceiling. Just like the cleric’s fey, her illusion fires a pair of starlight rays down at Meitremar.
Abandoning attempts at absolute stealth, Vildran jogs through the cloud to arrive in the ceremonial chamber, still unseen.
"Kill the one who just healed himself! The wall is fake!" Morga shouts to the Lyrakien, charging through the awful fog.
The wall is fake... The Lyrakien squints at the wall.
Then she scoots over as Morga bumps her out of the way in her rush to get out of the fog.
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Discretion is the better part of valor... Deciding charging in just to get torn up by the metal shards is a bad plan, San decides to try the bow again.
While Morga's lyrakien struggles to discern a way past the wall, Autumn's more illusory variant launches a pair of translucent rays that fade before they can impact Meitremar. It's only when San swaps to his bow and lines up a fair of shots that Meitremar's fate becomes sealed. His first narrowly misses, but the second plunges into the cult leader's throat. He tumbles back, dropping his pick to feebly grasp at the shaft, but its to no avail. In moments he bleeds out. The Horn slips from his hand and rolls to a rest against the altar.
Combat Over! Each of you gain 120 XP.
The storm of rust around Meitremar fades away, the shards of metal falling to scatter around his corpse.
San holds his bow aimed at the body for a few moments longer, just in case this body rises again. "What else does this terrible place have in store? The ritual is really stopped right?"
Finally letting himself relax just a little, he moves over to retrieve the horn.
Even after Meitremar collapses, Autumn waits, making sure that he is well and truly finished, before letting her illusion lapse and cautiously approaching. When San picks up the horn, she looks about in vain for the invisible wizard, then calls out “Vildran! Is the horn safe to handle?” For her own part, she sets aside the cultist’s leather tome and pickaxe, then starts rifling through his corpse, searching for anything of value.
Finally assured that Meitremar is finished, Morga nods at the Lyrakien. "Thank you. He was trying to summon a demon lord. You have helped save us all. Return home with our deepest gratitude."
Wearily, she turns to the group, assessing the current state of danger. The temptation to believe that all the evil threats have been eliminated is so strong, but she needs to be sure. Absolutely sure. She's gone too far for half measures now.
Vildran attacks the darkness with hostility to become visible again. He rushes over to San.
Careful with that now.
He motions for him to set it down again before fixing his arcane eye on it.
San picks up the Horn. This rusted, coiled horn feels as if its made of solid iron, though an unpleasant warmth emanates from it while it sits in your hands. Its shape is similar to a ram's horn, though its size implies a truly enormous ram. Flakes of rust continuously drift from it and stain the hands. Moments after picking it up, San feels his hand begin to tremble. A weakness spreads up his limb .
Morga looks around the room for any other dangers and sees nothing lying in wait behind the dais or among the fallen bodies of the other cultists. To the best of her understanding of the situation, the portal that Meitremar had been opening to potentially return Xar-Azmak has fully sealed shut. Though an enterprising cultist might be able to salvage the dais and altar and reuse them, the failed ritual has damaged both badly enough to render them impotent in their current state. To the best of her judgement it seems safe to remain here, though the corpses, dark ichor on every surface, and memories of your near deaths here might not make it the most comfortable place to rest.
Vildran rushes over and examines the Horn of Rust with his arcane eye. He's immediately and strongly struck by the violent magical power radiating from it. While the magic is disorderly, seemingly incomplete or broken, it is unquestionably a powerful aura. What you have here is without doubt a dangerous artifact, but its true powers will take some diligent and gradual study to unravel. As it stands, Vildran can tell that it has some inherent powers it can summon and also functions similarly to a staff to allow its wielder to cast certain spells. He can also tell that its powers are currently not fully functional - that incomplete feeling he got earlier. He can also tell it would be very dangerous for anyone with a close connection to a holy deity to handle.
Autumn checks over the fallen foes and finds a variety of items, some potentially valuable.
4x leather armor
4x dagger
40 gp in ritual materials
Off Meitremar:
rusted (broken) breastplate
tarnished silver symbol of Xar-Azmak
??? pick
??? wand
??? wand
brass key
Vildran stares at the horn in astonishment.
This... is going to take me some time. This thing is powerful and we cannot leave it here, or let it fall into the wrong hands.
He glances at the dais.
In fact it would be dangerous for it to remain anywhere near here.
He wraps his hands up in a length of his lower cloak and offers up the padded basket for San to drop it into, hoping that it won't affect him similarly.
He then sits down and spends a few minutes taking notes about what he's seen so far, the ritual that they interrupted, a note to research Xar-Azmak, and of course this horn.
--------------------
Once they get done with the horn (for now) and safely stowed it away, Vildran hopes he can make quick work of the wands found on Meitremar.
He suspects his friends don't really want to linger in this place though, so if interrupted he will not object.
I suppose we can report success back to our boggard friends.
Autumn relaxes as the room returns to normal, though, like Vildran, she still regards the rusted horn with a sensible dose of caution. “This would’ve been useful,” she remarks dryly, holding up a brass key before pocketing it. Looking over at the elven wizard, she gestures towards the pick and a pair of wands. “Any magic you can identify on these?”
After she’s finished ransacking Meitremar’s corpse (and pocketing the tarnished silver symbol—that’s got to be worth a couple gold once it’s cleaned up, right) she moves on to search the other cultists, gathering a bunch of expensive-looking ritual materials for safe-keeping—“these shouldn’t fall into the wrong hands either,” she explains to the others..
Once all the bodies are properly looted, she nods in agreement with Vildran, heading back to the chasm to call out to the boggards. “Gurga!” she cups her hands and shouts. “Rust people all dead. Please come help us cross back over the ledge.” She hopes the more nimble boggards will be able to rig up a couple ropes to help them cross back safely.
San drops the horn into the makeshift receptacle Vildran has prepared. Not on purpose but the mage simply appearing next to him startles him. Massaging his arm, he loads up whatever 'stuff' is deemed valuable by their resident expert. When Vildran starts examining things he reminds the wizard, "Lets get out of this place before we start our experiments. I'm as curious as you but that can wait." With a smile he helps up the other elf and heads to the chasm.
Right, right.
He packs up safely, hoping the depth of his pack gives enough space between his body and the horn.
The chasm is as daunting as it was before.
Surely the boggards will make this safer...
"Yeah, let's get to a spot where we can rest a while before going back up the stairs. We don't know if that smashing demon is still up there, and I'd rather not get killed before we can tell the folks that they're safe now." For now. Morga eyes the ritual circle darkly. "Though there's a part of me that wants to take that pick and thoroughly smash the whole assembly here, so there's nothing left for anyone to work with." Even so, she's ready to be anyplace but here.
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Gurga pats you all on the butt (except for the shorter Morga, who gets a pat on the back) as she chatters excitedly with the other boggards. She speaks up to you in common as well "Very very good news! Now Queen can come back and boggards can rule caverns again. Our new friends have done a great victory. Will you stay? Queen will surely have a feast for you."
When Vildran has a free moment he identifies the two wands - one a wand of create food and the other a wand of sound body (both 2nd level).
Cut to pieces... well no. We could throw them into the chasm just to be sure.
If nobody hears him and the boggards don't look for a confirmation here, he's quite happy to leave that place behind.
--------------------
Feast, I bet... he steals a glance at Autumn to see how optimistic she is about a boggard feast.
--------------------
After analyzing the wands he points out that either he, Morga, or Autumn could make use of Create Food, and he hands the Sound Body want to Morga.
Trying to imagine of what a boggard feast would consist, San tries to deflect, "A feast? We wouldn't want to impose... heh heh... heh." San's awkward laugh just hangs in the air waiting on their more eloquent friend to rescue the situation.
"Though there's a part of me that wants to take that pick and thoroughly smash the whole assembly here, so there's nothing left for anyone to work with."
“Please …” Autumn stretches out her arm invitingly, gesturing at the pick and the rune-inscribed dais, “… be my guest.” She might not want to do the hard labor herself, but what the cleric proposes seems quite natural—and might be a good way for the dwarf to work out her frustrations.
"Ooh? All dead? All cut to pieces and spread so they don't get up again?”
Autumn’s face contorts with a mixture of disgust and intrigue. The idea is much too gory, and yet … remembering how the sacrifice was reanimated into a zombie, perhaps Gurga has a good point? “No,” she responds, still squeamish at the idea while acknowledging its merits, “but that does seem like a reasonable precaution. Perhaps your boggards could do the honors?” She glances at Vildran and nods at his suggestion. “And then throw the pieces into the chasm?” Like the jobs of gravedigger, butcher, and executioner, perhaps it’s not so bad if someone else does it.
---------------
The sorceress stifles a nervous cough when Gurga invites them to a boggard feast, but quickly conceals her true feelings with a practiced smile. “We would be so greatly honored to stay, but unfortunately we must return to the surface—many are still ill with the creeping rust disease, including Morga’s great aunt, so we should hurry back to help treat them.” She glances sympathetically at the dwarf. Or say goodbye before they’re dead.
Gurga chatters for a little with the other boggards before responding to your team "Mhm, I understand. You want to make sure Black Lake tribe has chance to take choice bits first. Very appreciated. Yes, we will do honors of cutting bodies into small chunks."
She doesn't seem too upset that you're turning down the feast "It is okay. We will eat extra in your honor. Go then. You will always be welcome with the Black Lake tribe if you come back. Well, mostly welcome. If you remember your badges and if the Queen hasn't forgotten or gotten eaten again." She nods several times.
With that the boggards escort you back through their territory, but leave you before reaching the stairs. They don't ask anything about the situation on the surface, likely not at all interested.
Events and conversations unfold, and Morga allows herself to be carried along by them, away from the ritual room and its only-partially-destroyed-runes. But thoughts of her great-aunt rise to the surface, and she is keen to return to discover her fate. It's too much to hope that the older woman has survived this wretched illness, and she begins mentally preparing for a visit to the cemetery before two carved stones. Just names. I never got to know them.
It's become so much more than duty.
She gives the boggards a fond-ish farewell (her mind being elsewhere but her heart full of gratitude), she reminds the party about that last demon. "Should we rest before going up there?"
“Definitely treat the worst of our wounds,” Autumn glances meaningfully at the elven wizard, who looks as if he’s ready to collapse at any moment, “but if we had wanted a long rest, we should have just stayed with the boggards. Let’s just get out of here.”
As for the wands, she graciously suggests that Vildran either give the Create Food wand to Morga or keep it for himself. What’s the point of magic if it takes a full hour to cast?! She could prepare a mundane meal in less than half the time.
There is, however, one place where the sorceress would pause. If she recalls correctly, it’s the large room where San found the magical halberd inside the clockwork guardian. There was a twenty-feet tall rusted iron statue of a demonic horned creature (with one horn missing) that had glowing red gemstones in its eye sockets—gemstones that are just begging to be pried out.
“Definitely treat the worst of our wounds,” Autumn glances meaningfully at the elven wizard, who looks as if he’s ready to collapse at any moment, “but if we had wanted a long rest, we should have just stayed with the boggards. Let’s just get out of here.”
"<sigh> All right." At least we're not wasting a whole other day. She pulls out the healer's kit to begin patching wounds.
You take some time to rest, reflect and for Morga to tend to everyone's wounds. Off in the distance you can see boggards scurrying about, uninhibited now that the "Rust People" have been vanquished. You notice that they don't venture anywhere near the tunnel leading to Kikogamm and her kin, but don't have similar reticence about heading to where the dero were encamped. They come back bearing armfuls of glowing mushrooms.
After a couple hours, you're solidly patched up. You venture up the long stone stairs and eventually emerge in the grand chamber with the demonic statue. With some help clambering up, Autumn's able to get up to the eye sockets and pries the two large garnets free. As they pop free they stop glowing and the various flickering red torches in the room snuff out with them. While they aren't glowing any longer, the two garnets are rather hefty stones and Autumn reckons they could fetch a pretty price .
While this is happening, San takes a peek out the main doors. He can neither see nor hear the demon you intimidated earlier. The way further upstairs seems clear if you want to run for it.
With the looming threat of demons being summoned taken care of, the baseline adrenaline that has been keeping San alert is starting to drain away. He kind of loafs about as Morga takes care of their wounds, staring at the re-emergence of the signs of Rustcreep. He summons up another bit of attention as they head to where there was one demon left over that wasn't slain but can't find any trace if it on their rout. Motioning for the others to move, he leads the group up and up and up and up. Finally back at the front of the skymetal lab, he looks back and forth between the stairs to rusthenge and the long dark tunnel back to Stonehome. "It would be nice to have the sun on our faces again but I don't know what time it is... or what day it is even. It seems like it's been so long. Oh! And we have to worry about the tides if we go up the stairs as well. Everyone ok with a little more darkness? At least we are certain we'll get there in one trip."
Glumly, Morga replies: "Let's take the tunnel. I want to check on Great-Aunt Hilga as soon as possible, and that's the quickest route. Besides, none of us wants to climb those stairs for nothing if the tide's in."
Sunlight sounds good right now... even to me right now.
Vildran is usually happy to sit in the dark with his books, but this place isn't exactly a peaceful library or study.
With Meitremar defeated, her wounds fully healed, and—most importantly—a pair of large garnets in her pocket, Autumn is in rather good spirits. She pauses in the boggards’ lair on the upper level to verify that the brass key from Meitremar unlocks the chest that held Ordwi’s holy symbol, but otherwise dutifully follows San.
“Tunnel to Stonehome … please. Even if the tide’s out I so don’t want to walk through all that mud again.”
Passing through the upper level of Rusthenge, Autumn stops by within the now-abandoned boggard quarters and confirms the brass key she picked up from Meitremar does indeed match the chest the party recovered from his room. Looking around the floor, there are a couple of spots you recall you skipped the first time you visited, but knowing that there are still the sick and recovering back in Stonehome, you resolve to return there first.
You head down the long tunnel...