Ethyl's stomach churns at the sight of the monstrosity stuck in place of the doors. The words of the thing ring in her mind, clearly shaking her, What am I become? What am I become? What am I become?
She pulls out the small mirror, takes a good long look at herself. Seeing her face, normal, perhaps with a new wrinkle, was reassuring. She thought, Who I become will be my choice.
She puts the mirror away and mutters, "No matter."
She suggests, "There was a door to the north that we did not look behind. And the rubble blocking the hallway north could be cleared but that will take some time."
"This is a haunt," Iosif sighs, feeling the phylactery nagging at him for helping others when the positive energy could have been used to destroy this. "I'm not primarily a magic user, so my spells are spent for the day. We'll have to find what specific condition will dispell the haunt." Iosif tries to consider what might dispel the haunt, but he has no idea.
Iosif tries further to understand the haunt.
Iosif hears Winter recall the words the haunt had spoken before, and in his peripheral he glances at Ethyl, who is shaken from the sight and is checking her reflection. An epiphany strikes the gunslinger, and he believes the answer has to do with reflections. Perhaps showing the haunt itself in a mirror will answer its question?
"Try turning the mirror towards the haunt, Ethyl. It'll show it what it has become."
Enoch's blue eyes turn over to watch Ethyl peering at herself in a mirror. The Tortured Crusader then turns his blue eyes to Iosif at his suggestion.
I will do it.
Sighing at his own foolishness, the Paladin holds out his hand for the mirror.
Breathing steadily, his body tense, but obeying his orders, the Pharasman walks purposely through the curtain....
....thick mass of yellow fungal vines, stiff as one point and pulsing like veins in another. In the center of this growth a lidless eye, large as a wagon wheel and severely inflamed, twitches to watch the curtain be drawn back and lock its gaze with the group. Ooze-like tears well and drip from the organ, reeking of ammonia. The eye's pupil is ringed with stained needle-like teeth, like a lamprey's mouth, and they arch out like a writhing corona.
Suddenly, the horror begins to pull him into its nightmares!
Desperate to defeat this abomination, the Paladin of Pharasma holds out the mirror to face the entity!.....
Alvar glances at Iosif. Hm, I grow ever more surprised by our talents. "Impressive. I was going to suggest that we wait until tomorrow, at which point I could destroy it with a repeated spell, but you thought quicker than I." They smile dryly.
When Enoch prepares to go, they reach out for him - "Wait, I -" They sigh as he passes beyond the curtain again. "It would be wiser to wait until tomorrow, I believe, to give us a chance to rest and recover."
Enoch, you also watch as the fungal growth sees itself and it screams in a chorus of voices, all of which are familiar to his ears. It begins to dry and shrivel unnaturally fast, falling apart in dusty chunks that do not survive the fall to the stone and tile floor. Corpse dirt builds at the foot of the now revealed doorway, and the strange ammonia smell vanishes just as quickly.
Enoch bursts through the curtain as the others watch, and they hear twin screams as Enoch bears witness to the horror and something replies. The curtain falls back over the hallway, hiding from the others what happened.
Winter parts the curtain as the screams die down, seemingly too slow to react to Enoch's action The group finds Enoch crouched on the floor, covering his eyes as that horrific fungus and weeping eye have vanished, exposing the door with a pile of what looks like grave dirt on the floor.
Winter rushes to Enoch's side, placing a tender hand on his shoulder. "Are you alright, Brother Enoch? What happened?"
Though tortured crusaders may be beaten and battered, body, mind, and soul, they still somehow continue through torment and hardship. Despite setbacks and impossible odds, they shine like candles even in the darkest times. Somewhere in their minds, they realize that they can’t win in the end, but this only strengthens their resolve to fight for what is right, rather than giving in to hopelessness.
Laying down in a fetal position, his trembling body bathed in fresh perspiration, the Paladin is heard mumbling to....himself?
She signifies her displeasure by causing bleeding from beneath the fingernails, an unexplained taste of rich soil, the discovery of a dead whip-poor-will, the feeling that something important has been forgotten, or cold chills down the spine....
Enoch's blue eyes open to peer up at the kneeling Winter.
It worked....
Ethyl raises a single eyebrow while taking her mirror back, "Well then. We shall rest a bit and then try to find this Lodsandro."
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Alvar grimaces, baring their teeth in a feral scowl as they push through the curtain to bear witness to the Pharasmin's work. "Are you well?" They ask, examining Enoch carefully, before shaking their head. I'm not a doctor. They cast a wry glance at the doctor among their companions, then sigh.
"I'd offer you a hand up, but with my strength, you'd probably pull me down rather than the other way around." The hellspawn says, before glancing at the door that the haunt had obscured. "Should someone stand guard against any potential intrusions from out there?" They ask Winter, before recalling the cultist their allies had captured. "Or from an escapee seeking to flee in that direction?"
The Pharasman Paladin weakly rises to his feet. His blue eyes find Alvar at the Wizard's inquiry. Granting the Tiefling a Shakey thumbs up, Enoch stumbles back to the Altar room to collapse onto the floor.
Morning sounds splendid.... perhaps these voices will oversleep if we explore early enough...
In the early morning, the Tortured Crusader is seen praying at the Pharasman altar for an hour before readying for the day.
Winter. Any chance you have a spare set of full plate about? I feel a bit unarmored.
"How anyone operates in anything heavier than leather is well beyond me," Iosif remarks.
The sylph observes Enoch's plight. She kneels down, watching as cold sweat rolls down his forehead. "Enoch, the Wanderer - thank you for your sacrifice. We will rememeber." she looks at the door again, but sniffs at the air again, just in case.
Winter thinks for a moment. "I'm afraid the best I have is a set of studded leather. You are welcome to it, the guard who wore it was slain by a doppelganger early on, thus our guarding against them."
Looking to the door, Winter nods at Alvar's suggestions. "Agreed, I will assign a guard to watch this door while you sleep."
The five of you settle into the camp to rest, and just as Winter promised none of you suffer from nightmares. Rather, you have pleasant, easily forgotten dreams that leave you well rested.
Winter gives Enoch the studded leather, stained with blood were the guard was struck. York had watched the freed door and he reports nothing tried to enter and no one tried to leave. York also had spent the night sketching out a map for the group.
"I don't know how much things might have changed out there since the earthquake and the fog, but Losandro's offices were here." He points towards the center of the sprawling asylum. "The general and special records are next door to that. You'll have to pass the main foyer and the library, along with a few halls and other rooms. The kitchens are in the northeast of the asylum, if you manage to make your way there try and find some food and fresh water. Otherwise, your objective as per Lady Klaczka's request is to find a way out of this hellhole. Desna smile on you."
Adjusting the grip on his crossbow, he prepares to open the door.
Alvar takes a couple of the platinum coins the group found earlier to pay for - no, to donate - to the cause in exchange for preparing the materials they need to transcribe the scroll they'd found on their belt into their grimoire. Privately, they wonder why they had waited so long to do so. Is this my only spellbook? With it being so empty of major spells, it probably is... but it doesn't feel like it is... especially since I didn't have this spell written into it. Their wondering is answered as the magical script disappears from their scroll. Oh. I somehow completely forgot that happened when one transfers a spell like this. Hm.
The following morning - inasmuch as it can be said to be "morning" - after their escape, Alvar awakens and takes a quick interview of the other residents of the chapel about the mysteries of the passing time. The more datapoints the better.
Following that, they prepare their spells, selecting carefully each one in preparation of facing threats undead and human alike. Taking the map, they smile appreciatively at York, though their lips twist in such a way to give the expression a malevolent cast. "My thanks. Hopefully, this will help us."
Before he opens the door, however, they lift a six-fingered hand. "I suggest that Ethyl and I proceed first as stealthy scouts. I have today prepared a spell that should allow me to link myself and two others - per use - and allow us to whisper to one another across great distances. I believe that linking myself to Ethyl and to one of the less stealthy warriors is wisest." They look around for agreement or disagreement.
Enoch smiles at Nyarai.
I'm not dead yet, but you're welcome of course. It felt right for me to interact with it.
The Paladin smirks at Iosif as he gratefully dons the provided armor.
Every bit helps. Trying not to loose any more blood.
Enoch looks down on the blood strain. He turns to Alvar.
Prestidigitation perhaps?
The Paladin of Pharasma then puts back on his priests robes over the armor. He grins.
Ready to find answers, Tortured Crusader takes out his battered longsword.
Pharasma please place us on hold for now.
Ethyl silently considers Alvar’s plan and then whispers to the others, ”Don’t be alarmed when we reunite. I’ll be suffering side effects.”
”Additionally, I’d like to keep them,” she motions back to the chapel area, ”from knowing what I will become. It might make them question letting me return.”
She entered the other room as quietly as possible and once out of sight she pulled a small vial filled with liquid the color and consistency of pus. Ethyl transformed once again, her features growing emaciated and angular. Again her eyes changed from the alien dark black to blood red but her skin also paled nearly all color draining from it to a light grey. Her nose vanished to two small holes in the middle of her face and her mouth widened revealing gleaming serrated teeth. Her fingers grew longer and sharpened to fine points at the tips.
Alvar casts their spell on Ethyl and Iosif, allowing the three to whisper to one another from over a hundred feet apart, then invokes another spell on themself, conjuring a suit of invisible armor of force. Their eyes widen slightly at the half-elf's sudden transformation, but they do lean forwards, looking intrigued.
With that, they offer the others a wry smile, and stalk off after Ethyl, albeit with significantly less grace and skill. "North first. That's where the center of the building should be, I think..." They suggest to Ethyl via their whispered spell.
White tile, spiderwebbed with cracks, lines the walls of this cathedral-like hall. A prominent, oval desk faces staunch double doors, while hard benches and portraits of somber doctors line the walls. Regal stairs ascend toward a second floor, but rubble has crushed the upper flights, blocking passage. Lofty windows, gridded by bars, reveal yellow mist
seething just beyond. The light through the windows provide a dim yellow-tinted light barely casting shadows.
Ethyl's transformation allows her to pad silently forward, but Alvar skids a little on some debris on the stone floor. There is no one and nothing moving or otherwise present in this room that the two can notice. Ethyl notices the great double doors - marked by the map as the main entrance - are swollen and seem stuck, requiring more than keys to open them.
Alvar is correct, as they would need to go north through the library and another hall northwards to reach the administer's office. There is another wide hallway towards the east, with a door just north of that.
4 Cantrips:
Dancing Lights
Message
Read Magic
Touch of Fatigue
Rank 1:
Detect Secret Doors
Identify
Mage Armor
Unseen Servant
Enoch smiles at Nyarai. "I'm not dead yet, but you're welcome of course. It felt right for me to interact with it."
The sylph offers a smile back. "We know. We also know we are bad with comedic delivery. We can talk after we rest." She stands up, and walks away, leaving the Pharasmite to make sense of his thoughts.
In the morning, the sylph wakes up and cleans her scarf for what seems like an hour. Very meticulous. She tears off loose threads and various fibers, but the process doesn't seem to damage the fabric at all. If nothing else, it somehow seems to improve the quality.
Finally, the sylph loops the scarf around her neck and stands up. She keeps distance from the people in the chapel, only nodding to Klaczka on the way to the doorway, as if to mentally confirm she is contributing.
She greets everyone with a courteous nod. The only exception is the Pharasmite. "So what happened here?" she asks Enoch when the man approaches the doorway. "We did not see, but the curtain did nothing to curb the screaming. she tilts her head curiously while the forward team goes on.
Enoch's blue eyes turn to Nyarai.
It's my penance. My past haunts me yet I no not what my past represents. Although, I do know, no feel as if I was discarded by something, someone but....it was a terrible mess. That describes the experience.
Turning his gaze to watch the two scouts navigation of the beyond the door area, the Tortured Crusader sighs.
Apologies, Nyarai. My mental health has been severely compromised. I feel the presence of Pharasma, but it is as if She is... restricted.... definitely expectant of my performance in whatever this is...
The Paladin stands straight.
I have a duty.
Enoch counts to 30 then he enters the chamber after the scouts....
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Iosif sighs, "Regardless of how much of a front we put up, our mental healths are all probably in the gutter right now."
Ethyl peers into the gloom trying to discern what is down the dark hallway to the east. She stops at the desk and checks for any drawers that might hold something useful, something that could help her survive this nightmare. When she was satisfied she listened at each of the doors of this large chamber and made sure that no one had decided to trap them.
She whispered to Alvar and Iosif, her voice ragged, "The main entrance doors have swollen from exposure to the mist outside. Just as well, we won't escape that way, unless its a last resort. Doors heading north and a hallway east. Unless there is something lurking further east this area is clear. We'll need to prepare light sources."
The sylph nods in comprehension when Enoch moves into the hallway. To Iosif's note, she shrugs. "But we don't know what is normal. That's the problem. No memories to compare to. Perhaps this is the state of the world now, and we simply do not recall."
She follows.
Alver nods minutely in agreement with Ethyl's assessment. "No one is here..." They don't lower their guard, however, and keep scanning the area for any movement or other signs of threats - past or present.
The mention of the swollen door gives them a momentary pause. That's good. I wouldn't trust some of the less-stable souls not to rush out if they thought there was an easy escape. Going out there now would be a terrible idea.
Alvar grimaces at the mention of a light source, and they wish dearly that they had a hood or a hat. Darkness is so much more soothing. Still, needs must, I suppose. It isn't Iosif or Ethyl's fault that they can't see in the dark very well.
Still, they wait for Ethyl to listen at the doors, and glance back at their companions as the other three prepare to enter. "You can come in, but quietly as possible, please." They relay to Iosif.
Ethyl first holds her ears to the swollen southern doors, noting the wood is slightly moist and sweating. To her surprise and perhaps horror the sounds she hears draws up memories of listening to someone's breathing, as there is a steady sound of inhaling and exhaling through the moist wood of the doors. Images of exposed lungs fills her mind's eye, and something squelches outside.
Ethyl presses her ear to the northern doors, measuring her breath to better hear through the well-made but jostled wood in the crooked frame. She hears scurrying, nibbling, chittering whispers, all muffled but something is in the library.
"How is cousin Elyssa today?" The man's voice is distorted and unfamiliar, but you know what he has said.
"She hasn't had an episode today, so we are now three days without her mania driving her to violence." You pack up your stethoscope and other tools, finished with your examination. "I'll check in on her again tonight, as per your arrangement."
Standing you look at the man - your employer - and cannot see his face. The lamp is behind him, casting his features in shadow. You aren't easily intimidated, especially by men. However, this man is too keen for your liking, too esoteric.
"Check her again around noon. I want to see how her body performs when not haunted by the dusk or dawn's madness."
"As you wish, my Count..."
Ethyl pauses for a long moment as the memory surfaces, she tries to hold onto it for as long as she can. Her mind races trying to dredge up more details to no avail. The analytical part of her mind, Cousin Elyssa, is she my cousin or the man’s, the count’s? Mania, that could be any number of mental disorders, some of which can be treated with medication. Was it due to her malnourishment? No matter. I worked for a count, is it Count Lowls? Circumstantial evidence, this could have been a decade ago and it may not mean anything, I need more information.
A base part of her mind focused on the lungs, exposed, it would just take a small hole and it would no longer function, two holes and then certain death by asphyxiation. She shivered at the thought.
Ethyl shook her head and broke from her reverie. She whispered to Alvar and Iosif, unable to keep the fear from her voice, ”Something is gnawing behind the northern doors to the library. Is there another way around?”
Watching the sneaking, peeking, daydreaming, and conversing going on between the three scouts, Enoch walks into the Grand Hall. The Paladin casually begins a sentry route up one side and back down the other....
On the Paladin second set of rounds, he says
Do we need to go through the great double doors - marked by the map as the main entrance - that are swollen and seem stuck, requiring more than keys to open them?
"I can be quiet until combat starts, you know", Iosif whispers back as he follows.
The mention of sounds on the other side of the door prompts Alvar to grit their teeth. Nothing can ever be easy. Still, they do notice the note of fear in Ethyl's voice. They approach her quietly, looking concerned, but do not speak for now.
Instead, they scratch their chin, examining the crude map. "It seems that there's a much more roundabout path in that direction." They gesture towards the east. "It is very roundabout, however. It could be even more dangerous than whatever's in the library."
At Enoch's question, they whirl, carefully checking to make sure he's not opening the doors. They stride as swiftly as they're able to without making too much noise to join him. "No. No, I don't think it would be wise to leave the sanitarium until we've exhausted our other options." They say in a low voice.
They do, however, cast a briefly amused look at Iosif, nodding.
Ethyl relents to Alvar's reasonable explanation, "I don't like it. But you are correct."
When everyone was ready she drank a vial with a transparent and colorless liquid in it and then opened the door.
The doors creak on bent hinges, scrapping against crooked frames. The smell of old leather and layers of dust whoosh out like a giant exhale, familiar to some and annoying to others. Small rectangular windows just below the 14ft tall ceiling ring the room, providing dim lighting for the library. Bookshelves line the walls, one rolling ladder per section, the weight of dust, books, and damage from the enigmatic earthquake sagging the shelves under the weight. At the center of the room is a large wooden table, ringed by uncomfortable looking chairs, above which hangs a large chandelier of iron vines, slowly swinging despite the lack of a breeze or recent shaking of the building.
Amid this, there is also the smell of some sort of bestial musk.
Alvar moves cautiously forwards. The door probably told whatever is in here that it - or they - have guests, but that isn't a reason to be reckless. They gesture at their comrades to ready themselves for battle.
What they see catches on their heart - so much knowledge! They could spend a great deal of time looking through those books. I wonder what's there. Medical reference texts, I imagine. Likely records of previous patients? Their eyes then fall on the lowest shelves, and their lips twist into a snarl. "Something has been ransacking the lowest shelves." They whisper - both to their two connected partners and anyone close enough to listen. "And I think that sufficiently small creatures could move through the shelves themselves. They look like they're chewed or worn through."
They lift their hands, contemplating summoning a spell from their memorized repertoire, but hold off for now. It could be more Dreamlands creatures...
Enoch's legs begin moving as the doors are opening. The Paladin's grip on his battered longsword tight. Blue eyes on a swivel, he passes Alvar further into the library.
Rodents most likely. Be wary of the shadows....
"What kind of rats would shack up here..."
Ethyl steels herself, wary of any fleas jumping onto her. Her enhanced olfactory bulb causes her stomach to churn and she pulls out a piece of cloth to help hide the stench.
She answers Iosif, "Ones that want to make a nest. Paper is a good insulator. Rat teeth constantly grow, they need to wear them down to be healthy. There are either a lot of them or they have been here a while."
Ethyl moves swiftly to the other side of the library eager to leave this place behind.
"Remember the zoog." Alvar reminds the others. "Our 'rats' might not be just any rats." They advance more cautiously, trying to keep a line of sight to everyone. As they go, they try to think of other potentially rat-like denizens of the Dimension of Dreams. "Especially since that one called other rats with it." Dire rats, which are too big for those holes, admittedly...
She sylph sneaks to the group from behind. "We adore your optimistic nature, cambion. Perhaps we shall find out it was our nature as well. We shall see." A smile creeps across her face.
As the group slowly advances into the library, Enoch and Iosif hear muffled voices chanting from deeper in. After a moment, the relative quiet is shattered by the sound of furious squeaking and chittering as two swarms of rats manifest in a dark sparkle of conjuration. As they rush forward, a creature with a rat's body but a humanoid face and digits appears atop a bookcase and hurls a book at Ethyl.
"Be gone-leave, devils!" It shrieks, nearly falling off the shelves with the effort of throwing the tome.
The tossed book bounces off Ethyl’s protective shield harmlessly.
She rushes up the nearest ladder pulling herself atop the bookshelf and towards it. She towered over the tiny creature threatening it menacingly.
As Ethyl scrambles up to loom menacingly over one of the creatures, the two rat swarms rush Alvar and Enoch, climbing and biting all over.
On top of the western bookshelf another creature appears as it hurls a book at Ethyl. "Depart-leave us, giants!"
Enoch's blue eyes follow the trajectory origins of the second book thrown at Ethyl. Seeing another rattling standing on top of another bookcase, the Tortured Crusader sighs.
Don't try this at home kids.
Enoch runs at said second rattling station with full force!
"Decidedly not a Devil, try again," Iosif says in a monotone as he fires at green, figuring everyone else probably has better weapons to deal with swarms.
He then reloads as he takes a step back.
Perhaps due to the swarm harassing him, Enoch's attempt to topple the shelf fails and he only manages to bruise his shoulder. Iosif takes aim at the first creature (green), but he misses as the rat-like thing hides behind Ethyl's legs.
The ratty creature then pops away, dodging Ethyl's claw, to reappear on the shelves across from the table, hissing in frustration. "Bad-no good beanstalk wretch!" It cries, giving the doctor a rude gesture before reaching down for a book to toss.
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The tiefling chuckles at their sylph companion's words. "I merely hope to be-" Their smile fades as they examine the books, brows furrowing. "Whatever ate these avoided the words-" Alvar jerks their head upright, alarm flaring in their expression, but before they can warn anyone, the rats - natural and not - arrive. They take a quick look at the one creature that speaks, eyes narrowing as they attempt to identify it.
"Gods, I know what I look like, but I swear I'm not a devil!" They growl, annoyed. It's been awhile since anyone mistook me for a- They bite back an Infernal curse as the rats swarm over them, shuddering violently at the sudden tide of vermin attempting to gnaw at them. Cursing and staggering, they fight to focus despite the surrounding swarm.
The flood of furry bodies proves too much for their stomach to easily bear, and they attempt to stumble away from the swarm as swiftly as possible, all of their other focus consumed by keeping their bile from erupting out of their mouth.
"Are those..." the sylphs squints at the creatures as she moves closer, seemingly confused. "...human faces on rat bodies?"
Her head tilts to the side, her face nonplussed. "Fascinating. Is this the world now? We only slept through the change somehow?"
Ethyl complains, "I'm going to regret this..." She moves to the end of the bookshelf while drawing one of her daggers and then jumps down, rushing forward. She Takes aim at and flings the dagger at the nearest human-faced rat.
Ethyl's dagger soars over the bookshelf missing the ratling to clatter on the floor on the other side. It chitters - laughs - as it watched the dagger pass it by. The swarms move to engulf Enoch and Alvar again.
The (blue) ratling drops a book on Enoch, taking advantage of the swarm's attack as the third (red) ratling appears to throw a book at Alvar and Nyarai but falling short, misjudging the distance.