Enoch's blue eyes widen as the swarm races all over him!
This is making me feel uncomfortable.
The Nauseous Tortured Crusader stumbles about the library bouncing haphazardly off bookcase after bookcase.....
Ethyl yells out, "They have to concentrate to keep the swarms manifested! Iosif shoot the man-faced rats. The rest of you keep your distance until the swarms disperse."
Iosif's unholy symbol seems to suck in light as opposed to glowing as he fires and the bullet that's fired seems to do the same... and it manages to distract him enough that the gun outright misfires, which he quickly clears as he swears in both Abyssal and Infernal.
The ratling drops a book on Ethyl: "Get a grip-hold your knife!" However, its aim is no better than the half-elf's, if not worse. It chitters in aggravation and reaches for another book.
The sylphs keeps her head tilted, still flabbergasted by the looks of the creatures and their ability to speak. Gives Enoch a look and can't help but chuckle at the entire ordeal.
Alvar masters their stomach long enough to warn their companions. "Ratlings! They can teleport and turn invisible!" They gesture at the human-faced rats. "They use scrolls, too!"
Before they can say any more, they hiss their anger at the swarm continuing to follow them.
This time, they are able to overcome the foul sensation of the vile rats, and they pull back to the nearest bookshelf. Their tail flicks up and snags a vial out of their new backpack, and drops it lightly into their waiting hand.
"Stand clear!" They growl, and hurl the vial of alchemist's fire. I really hope I don't set any books on fire...
Alvar's throw of the alchemist fire lands squaring amidst the wriggling mass of vermin, the flames consuming the rats in a flash of light and the stench of burning flesh and fur. The remains didn't remain, however, rather quickly vanishing from the space they once inhabited being a conjured swarm.
Ethyl climbs the ladder in front of her this time jumping up before grabbing hold and takes not care in her hand and foot placement.
When she arrives on top she leers over the ratling. She fights back her revulsion at the tiny creature and tries to bite it.
Ethyl's mutated form clambers up the ladder well enough, managing to take a feral bite out of the vexing ratling. The ratling takes up arms and hurls a book at Alvar - a hefty tome titled Aberrations of the Halfling Brain, Mundane and Arcane by Doctor Ciel Sonehive - while tries to protect . The remaining swarm remains on Enoch, clawing, climbing, chittering.
Enoch sighs.
The Tortured Crusader has an inkling that he should be immune to Disease but being on loan has made him doubt his faculties....
Not Distracted in the least, our Paladin runs into the bookcase that holds a ratling but not an Ethyl.
Iosif swears loudly as his firearm misfires again, unholy symbol seemingly mocking him as he gets more rash in his actions.
Meanwhile, in the real world, and not in Iosif's head, the unholy symbol continues to suck light from the surrounding area as the bullet strikes the ratling square in the forehead.
Enoch feels a shelf crack under his efforts, but it is not enough to dislodge the ratling atop its perch. Iosif manages to land a blow on a ratling, his musket belching up a dark flame as something channels through his weapon.
"What ever is that ... thing?" The dwarf asks, leaning back on her workbench to peer around Iosif.
"Something odd." Iosif snarked. "Thought you'd be more interested, considering the trinkets you make, Kletta."
"I don't pry into what people make on my anvil so long as they clean up after themselves and pay the fee to use it. Which I appreciate you doing, despite the Count telling me not to charge you." She stood up, brushing off her apron of copper shavings to look closer. "Hold on, is that a--"
Whatever she was going to say is cut off by the agonized scream of the ratling as the bullet tore through it.
The ratling snarls as Ethyl bit into it, and it leaps at her ankles intent on doing the same. However, Ethyl's improved dexterity and loathing of the vermin allows her to hop clear of the rat's jaws.
Alvar's magical protections deflect the book that the creature hurled at them, and they turn their eyes up to glare at the ratling. They hiss something in the creature's language.
Despite their irritation, they are deeply aware that their spell repertoire for the day is very ill-suited to these creatures. The day I prepare to fight against undead and humanoids... and my compatriots aren't close enough to defend with my wards.
They glance at the three closest to the fighting, a scowl twisting their lips. That spell wouldn't help against a swarm of mindless rats. And I have no desire to get any closer to them than I must. Nevertheless, they sigh inwardly. But I will do no help to Ethyl any time soon.
They make haste over to the corner where the sylph and the aasimar stand, and invoke the sign of protection with one hand, drawing a five pointed star with a burning eye with all six fingers.
"If you manage to disrupt the ratlings' concentration, the swarm will dissipate a few seconds later!"
Nyarai continues her sad/amused chuckle, further protecting Enoch with her hex.
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Swipes her claws at the ratling but hesitates.
Ethyl swallows her fear and bites the ratling again, tearing a chunk of flesh out of its side before spitting out the vile flesh.
She takes a precious moment to eye Alvar as they explain her plan over again.
Iosif startles himself out of the vision, clutching his unholy symbol to ground himself as her murmurs things about one "Kletta" and trinkets.
The swarm continues to harass Enoch as he tries to dislodge the rat commanding it.
The ratlings continue to hurl books at the invaders. Blue moves north to another bookcase, sensing Enoch's attempts, and Red moves south to get a better angle at Alvar and to avoid Iosif's gun.
The Tortured Crusader sighs.
Why's it always got to be rats.
Enoch begins carving rat loins for dinner!
Iosif fires at an available target (currently unable to access roll 20, preference is a ratling), umholy symbol still anti-glowing dimly (Weapon of the Chosen)
Enoch swings at the swarm covering him but his sword doesn't connect to any of the vermin. Iosif takes a shot at the ratling but the wily creature dodges the bullet.
The ratling dodges Ethyl's claw but is once again bitten. It shrieks in pain and attempts to dimension door away, prompting an attack from Ethyl as it does so. Ethyl misses her bite, and the ratling appears on the eastern bookshelves, limping and bleeding.
The sylph, not able to do much more in this section, looks deeper into the room. She sees Ethyl, grabs her own shawl, breathes in, and lets out a silent sob.
And her shawl tears itself into what seems like hundreds of little rags that envelop her form only to further tear up into individual threads that dissipate in the wind. And just like that, the sylph is nowhere to be seen.
Ethyl draws another dagger as she chases down her chosen foe and throws it at them.
As Nyarai vanishes from sight and Alvar keeps up his protective ward, Ethyl hurls her dagger in venomous frustration. To her delight the dagger buries itself to the hilt in the ratling, putting it down for good.
The two remaining ratlings shriek in dismay. Both dimension door to flank the doctor, baring teeth and uncomfortably humanoid claws as the swarm also moves towards Ethyl.
Alvar grimaces, shaking their head. Gods and devils, this is getting to be frustrating. I should pick up a crossbow from the guards if I can. They take a quick run around the stacks, the table, and move towards Ethyl, hoping to extend their ward over her.
Enoch's blue eyes watch the plight of Ethyl, as the rat swarms nibble on his bits and pieces. Sighing (he seems quite proficient), the Tortured Crusader silently asks for healing, prior to absolutely running full force at the bookcase that has two ratling nuisances (and, as it stands, an Ethyl)!
Ioaif misses again, getting a bit frustrated.
While Iosif's bullets fly wide, Enoch bolsters himself with divine magic and once more tries to shatter a bookshelf with his body. However, this time the force of his charge does dislodge the case, breaking under its own weight and sending an avalanche of dusty tomes spilling onto Enoch, Ethyl, and the two ratlings assaulting the good dubious doctor.
Both Enoch and Ethyl avoid taking damage from the bookslide, but the ratlings both are buried underneath the weight of the broken bookshelves and their contents.
Ethyl easily jumps out of the way of the avalanche of books and uses this opportunity to try to eviscerate a ratling.
She calmly explains, "Control yourself better Pharasman. Such destruction could be your own downfall if you're not careful."
The ratlings attempt to claw their way up from under the books, but Ethyl's gaunt frame is waiting for them. The one's throat and upper chest is cleaved open, and the one is snatched up by the other claw, impaled on two fingers, and brought up to be nearly beheaded by the alchemist's teeth.
The rat swarm disintegrates as the ratlings perish. A dagger protrudes from the ratling still atop the northeastern shelves, while the other two lie and whose blood stains the books surrounding Ethyl and Enoch. Books are scattered across the library, blood splatters and scorch marks and gouges in the wooden frames leaving more damage than it seemed to have suffered during the earthquake.
Ethyl breathes heavily, looking for more victims. She quickly regains control of herself and tries to wipe the blood and viscera from her face and hands. "I don't care to linger in this rat's nest. But I feel that there may be useful knowledge here. Shall we find out what we can? Or should we seek out Losandro?"
Ethyl recovers her daggers and makes a quick survey of the room.
"Well done, everyone." Alvar says, relaxing their guard slightly. "Although that was unpleasant. Never have I envied sorcerers more than this moment." That I recall, anyways. They shake their head, looking around the library. "We could spend time here looking for any relevant information. However, that would result in my spells, at least, running out of time. Do we want to look through the books here, or move forwards and return later?"
They consider. "I am able to set up a magical alarm which would tell us if something intruded, and that could allow us to study in... relative safety." Although I'd rather not do so today.
Enoch absently begins to clean his battered longsword but then recalls that it still is clean. Picking through the fallen literature to frisk the three ratling nuisances, the Paladin hands any weapon found to Ethyl.
You seemed to have dropped this.
Glancing about the library at Alvar's and Ethyl 's prompting, the Tortured Crusader shrugs.
Don't suppose these volumes are going anywhere. Let's proceed to our main objective.
"I agree. Let's keep moving, we can come back to it. The world isn't going to end yet," Iosif says.
Enoch's blue eyes seem to laugh at Iosif 's prediction....
Ethyl moves to the north door, examining it and if she determines it is safe, she opens it.
Ethyl's initial perception of the room reveals little else, no items magical or otherwise. There is a diverse collection of medical and historical texts at hand, however, that may prove most enlightening to the fugue stated but intellectual patients. The door to the north isn't locked or trapped, opening as creakily as its southern pair.
The doors open to two hallways, one continuing to the north and one to the west. The northern hall is wider and ends in a scarce waiting room before an undamaged but ajar door, dimly illuminated by a window filtering in the sickly yellow light from outside. The western hall ends with a collapsed wall exposing a wide hole into a room. There are two doors to the west and four to the north, and other that the dim light northwards these halls are in darkness.
Alvar advances cautiously towards the doors, glancing out between the two options they have to advance and allowing their natural darkvision to penetrate what it can. "Light to the north and none to the west. If there are more undead or aberrations, they are not going to need the light... but human patients - this cult - will." They send via message to the two they are linked to.
The wizard frowns, glancing down at their crude map. "I think that the administrator's offices are north, if that's where we want to go first."
The sylph peers over Alvar's shoulder at the map. "We would prefer to find our records, surely? Are we the only curious ones?" she looks at the rest of the gathering inquisitively.
Iosif... changes his mind. "I believe we should research, admittedly, yes."
Enoch's blue eyes follow the conversation being offered by his mutual beneficial company. The Paladin stays silent on the matter, as he follows Ethyl into the northern hall and he halts where it ends in a scarce waiting room.
Holding his battered longsword ready, he listens into the undamaged but ajar door.
Enoch approaches the far northern door, seeing a brass plaque screwed into it reading "Administrator Eliege Losandro, Main Office". Placing his ear to the door he listens intently, hearing slow, muffled breathing but nothing else. Turning his head to the left, Enoch notices a large shadow flutter across the window providing the waiting room with dim lighting. It made no noise, but it drew up a vision.
Enoch, wearing the tattered tabard of Mendev, clutched his battered longsword, familiar to him despite the vision being alien. His eyes darted skyward, seeing the silent shadows of demons veiled by the abyssal smog.
The crusaders tried to catch their breath as they took up positions around the skeleton of a building. Too many points of entry to guard, too many ways the enemy can attack.
They waited. Enoch waited. The shadows seemed to have moved on. The crusaders began to breath easier.
Then a black, faceless nightmare dove down through the absent roof, long talons reaching for Enoch's face as he suddenly was back in front of Losandro's office.
Silently mouthing the words on the plague, Enoch listens absently to the muffled sound coming from the other side of the ajar door. His attention suddenly taken by the flutter of shadow.
Standing still his blue eyes see the vision of Familiarity. The poisonous air of brimestone, blood and boiled bodies of comrades assail his nostrils. The acridity of the lingering smoke feels quite forward caressing his arms, face and even places bare of cover. Perspiration pours freely from faces forlorns, Frightened, forgotten. The lone Paladin pleas for them.
The Shadow comes instead .....
Enoch blinks. He breathes. Barely aware of his situation having been brought back to the current creepiness, the Tortured Crusader falters.
Blank blue eyes stare hard at that same plague that previously put him in his past. Once again his mouth moves silently.
"Administrator Eliege Losandro, Main Office".
The Paladin straightens.
There are mucus-like smears across the hall's tile floor.
Enoch's blue eyes follow the trail from the western doors to the northeastern door.
Apparently it moves.
"Whatever left it certainly did," Iosif adds.
"We should investigate. Whatever made that trail could attack from behind."
Ethyl creeps up to the northeastern door and listens through the door and makes sure its safe to open. She opens it if its safe to do so and peeks inside.
"Quite." Alvar replies to the sylph. "But I didn't want to command. It's always worth consulting - dammit, man, do you have no conception of scouting?" They glare at Enoch's back, eyes narrowed, then sigh heavily, following slowly.
Alvar takes a moment to examine the slime, trying to identify it.
Unable to immediately identify it, they creep forwards, following in Ethyl's wake.
"We can see it as well. So not a hallucination... maybe. Even the smell is familiar, but not sure where from." the sylph ponders. "We are right behind you. Be careful."