Iosif quickly shoves another cartridge down the muzzle of his musket, and fires at the chair.
Thankfully, this one isn't a misfire.
Enoch nods to Ethyl as he Steps, into a Flank with the Alchemist before bringing down the pain! Although, being an Animated Chair, probably zero pain ....
And zero pain....
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Ethyl rips into the animate chair with claw and tooth. She grows frustrated with the sylph witch's confusion, "It's another dream intruding into our reality!"
The frustrations of the doctor finally tear the once fine office chair apart, aided by blade and bullet. A moment or two passes, and at last the path to the Records seems clear.
"Should we go investigate the records now?" Iosif says.
Enoch just looks down at the once beautiful piece of furniture. He sighs.
Better be wary of it's siblings.
The Tortured Crusader then turns his sad blue eyes to Ethyl.
Probably got sum splinters in your... everywhere.
"Oh..." Still confused, the sylph takes a step away from the door. "Thank you." Then she moves the paper slit closer to the door with her hand, but does not otherwise move. She looks around the room as she does that, and quickly pulls her hand away from the door once she feels it's been enough. She repeats this and looks around the room carefully.
"Quite." Alvar agrees with Ethyl, their brow furrowed. "An odder one, and blessedly less threatening than the ghouls and the doppelgängers." They heave a sigh, examining the remnants of the chair until they are certain they cannot derive any knowledge from them.
"Let's get moving. If we want to investigate these archives in depth, I can set up a spell that will alert us to any intrusion - at least for a couple hours." With that, they follow the others into the Records room.
Nyarai teases the door handle, glancing around at the now suspicious furniture, but she is relieved to see that nothing else is coming to life. Alvar examines the chair itself, but other than some yellow smoke that quickly fades away from the broken pieces there is indeed nothing they can learn from it.
The hallway beyond is pitch black, not supernaturally so, those with darkvision can see in black and white a long hall with five other doors and smashed lanterns on the floor. To the south a sign displays Records Room, north of that is Personal Effects Storage.
Enoch seems to thrust himself through the newly opened door into the long hallway.....
With the paper in hand, the sylphs carefully follows after Enoch and stops near the records plaque. Her eyes widen, and she breathes in with anticipation.
"You or us?" she asks the man after a few short moments of studying the plaque.
Ethyl wrinkles her nose at the smell, "Do you smell that? Drying blood I think."
She tentatively opens the door to the records room.
"Is it? I don't smell anything." Alvar shakes their head. "Never mind. I trust your senses in this." They follow their companions carefully, shifting uncomfortably in the light that Iosif has conjured.
"Of course," they say, "that doesn't mean it's an active danger, merely that there was a danger here once. Still, remain on your guard."
As light from the lantern spills into the hall, the party can see the source of the smell of blood. The door to the Dayroom is swollen, blood oozing through the soaked wood, defying gravity to drip far too slowly down to the floor to pool and ripple.
Opening the Records Room, the scene is a parchment massacre. Filing cabinets and shelves are emptied and files and papers are scattered all over the floor. Across the room is a door labeled "Special Records". A woman wearing a yellow robe and yellow chalk drawn on her face is rummaging through the contents, muttering to herself. "Zandalus, Zandalus, where is Zandalus?"
Enoch's blue eyes see the door to the Dayroom is swollen, blood oozing through the soaked wood, defying gravity to drip far too slowly down to the floor to pool and ripple.
He immediately turns to Nyarai, quickly reaching for the door handle.
I'll go
Awkwardly operating the handle at the same time as Ethyl, the Paladin simply shrugs. Peering into the Hurricane was Definitely Here Records Room to witness the Woman in Yellow, Enoch places a finger to his lips.
The Tortured Crusader then begins to tiptoe through the paper strewn room to make his way to the door marked "Special Records"....
Ethyl tries to follow along and creep up behind the cultist but she kicks up a rustle of paper. Ethyl sighs exasperated as she surely has alerted them.
Once the door is ajar, the sylph looks inside to see the robed woman tearing up paperwork. As anxiety takes over, she gasps loudly and shouts "No! What did you do?"
Iosif merely aims his firearm at the cultist. "Orpiment is a shade of yellow, right? Regardless, state whatever in Abaddon you're doing." He feels nihilism start to take hold and is tempted to shoot before asking questions, but the need for answers is first and foremost in his mind.
Alvar's lips pull back in a snarl, showing their teeth, but they approach the woman silently, hooves gliding soundlessly over the floor as they settle themselves in the corner, prepared to hiss the dark words that would - hopefully - send fear into the woman's mind.
At first, the woman doesn't seem to notice either Enoch or even Ethyl. However, at Nyarai's outburst and Iosif's demand the yellow-robed woman turns, revealing a club at her waist. "Zandalus isn't here ... he's not here! YOU! You took him!" She charges the door, drawing her club and shrieking Zandalus' name.
Ethyl scowls, "You are going to be a problem, aren't you?"
She casually mauls the cultists while hoping the blood doesn't destroy any important records.
Enoch panics!
The stealth approach was a bit interrupted by angry, demanding shouts from behind his position. His panicked blue eyes watch Ethyl disregard any further Stealth to flambe the Woman in Yellow cultist!
Not wanting to be a stick in the mud, the Paladin Strides over to offer a Flank to Ethyl, as he uses the business end of his battered longsword!
You seem to be mistaken us for those educated as to your ranting.
Ethyl holds the woman's attention, her left claw and maw tearing into her flesh, as Enoch with practiced footwork slides behind and carves down across the woman's back. With a pathetic gurgle, the yellow robes are stained crimson and the woman collapses at their feet.
With the threat neutralized, the five of you take in the mess left behind. There is little remaining in this room that could easily be salvaged, let alone read. However, the door to Special Records on the room's far side remains closed. The key ring from Losandro opens this locked door, and within is undisturbed records.
Nyarai, using the reference number found in Losandro's journal, finds the corresponding cabinet and opens it to find a sealed bundle of case files. Opening this the five of you find six separate files, one belonging to your lost companion.
Age: early thirties
Height: 5’ 10”
Sex: Nonbinary
Race: Tiefling, Chelaxian origins
Occupation: The Count listed them as a college from the same esoteric circles
Intake Notes: The tiefling was a student of the occult and arcane. No wonder madness and amnesia took them. Their eyes were open, but they behaved as if in a deep sleep. Their eyes, however, seemed to register what was happening around them, locking onto points in rooms as if they saw something. Barnellus is eager to get started with them.
Behavioral Evaluation: Alvar seems distant, even for a nigh comatose patient. Their eyes dance beneath their lids when they’re asleep and seem to stare when awake, as if seeing things no one else can. I had chanced a look at their spellbook, and Barnellus claimed I turned pale at the tome’s contents. It is no longer hard to imagine what horrors Alvar has witnessed.
Their manner was reserved and proper, considering tieflings are among the lowest of the low in Cheliax this is no doubt a learned behavior. They only became animated when discussing the arcane and esoteric, which the Count claimed to long for their conversations and debates on such matters.
Conclusion: I’ve yet to work with a tiefling, but I understand their brains aren’t much different from their parent race, so navigating it with The Chain of Nights shouldn’t be any more difficult than a human’s mind. I hope to free Alvar’s mind, remove the shame and elevate his intellect to more productive ends.
Age: appears in his early thirties
Height: 6’
Sex: Male
Race: Aasimar, Peri Heritage
Occupation: The Count listed him as a guard for his estate of Iris Hill
Intake Notes: Admitted before the latter five, Enoch Casterlane
Behavioral Evaluation: Enoch suffers night terrors, barely able to get a healthy amount of sleep. When he’s awake he enters periods of catatonic stillness, sometimes mumbling religious tenets of Iomedae. The rare times Enoch has spoken of his past has led Barnellus to believe he was a crusader, perhaps dishonorably discharged or a deserter.
Enoch also believes a voice is whispering to him, either chiding his cowardice or offering a path to redemption.
Phobias: Enoch shows all the signs of post traumatic stress disorder, triggered by the audio and physical mania of some of the other patients here in Briarstone. He’s been kept from those who believe themselves possessed or haunted by demons especially.
Conclusion: Haunted by a perceived loss of honor, perhaps The Chain of Nights can rid Enoch of his religious guilt.
Age: in her forties, her elven half slowing the aging process
Height: 5’ 5”
Sex: Female
Race: Half-elf, Andoran or Isgeri origins
Occupation: Count Haserton Lowls listed her as his personal physician.
Intake Notes: Arriving with the group of five associates of Count Lowls, Dr Ermengarde was emotionless and cold. Despite her amnesiac state her eyes seemed aware, as if logging away every detail. However, as she was transferred to a cell, this false awareness faded to an almost meditative state.
Behavioral Evaluation: The patient is a high-functioning sociopath, according to the Count. She was ruthlessly professional, cold to lesser intelligence, and possessing of a wit sharper than steel. She holds no love for others but recognizes the value of talents outside her own.
She was also a college of one of the Count’s associates, Miacknian Mun, an alchemist from Cassomir. She held a surprisingly arrogant – if mundane – opinion on magic, believing she could bring true understanding to the mysteries of the arcane and occult.
She also has a sordid history, if rumors are to be believed. She is thrice-married, each of her husbands perishing under mysterious circumstances.
Phobias: Carriers of vermin.
Conclusion: I hope to not only uncover the truth behind the rumors surrounding Doctor Ermengarde, but I hope to also cure her of her reputed behavior with The Chain of Nights. Perhaps guide her down a more demure path?
Age: appears in his early thirties
Height: 5’ 8”
Sex: Male
Race: Human, Taldan
Occupation: The Count listed him as a guard for his estate of Iris Hill
Intake Notes: Iosif is covered in scars, scars from what appears a lightning strike and various burns. He smells strongly of sulfur and burned metal, which was explained by the firearm Lowls dropped off with the others and their gear. Writing this, I begin to wonder if Lowls meant to have these former employees of his simply removed.
Behavioral Evaluation: I would have thought Iosif a blacksmith but he holds himself like a scientist and a warrior with a creative side. A fascinating man, his head full of dark thoughts and inventive plans. Barnellus is having the time of his career with him.
He shares a skeptic perspective of magic with Dr Ermengarde, seeing it as less reliable than worked wood and metal. While neither of them hold a fear of the arcane, Iosif works with mechanical marvels that Brastlewark gnomes would be envious of.
Phobias: Iosif seems to suffer variant forms of thanatophobia and nihiliphobia, fearing death and the dissolution of the soul afterwards. While it is not common knowledge, the church of Pharasma has never denied such a fate for mortal souls. However, fear of something else seems to be behind these phobias.
Conclusion: A brilliant if mechanical mind. Perhaps The Chain of Nights can uncover what Iosif fears so, then we can push his creativity towards productive goals.
Age: mid twenties
Height: 5’ 2”
Sex: Female
Race: Sylph, Qadiran origins
Occupation: The Count listed her as a translator for an expedition he took to Qadira
Intake Notes: Nyarai bears scars and signs of a troubled youth. She behaved poorly when restrained and placed in a cell, but seemed to calm down when her face was covered.
Behavioral Evaluation: Barnellus was able to learn that Nyarai suffers from stigmatization in her youth, causing her to be reclusive. Despite being geniekin, a common minority in the Kelesh Empire, she seems to almost be resentful of her heritage. Then again, genies are commonly enslaved by the Keleshites. Nyarai seems desperate to prove her worth without drawing attention to herself.
She also wanted to keep her face veiled if not outright covered at all times. Doing this makes her mild and easier to work with. She has odd twitches and tics, some have been identified by Barnellus to have occult origins, especially from Qadiran practices.
Conclusion: She seems like such a nice woman, if cripplingly shy. The Chain of Nights should prove instrumental in repairing her psyche.
Age: 17
Height: 5’ 2”
Sex: Male
Race: Human, of an Ustalavic strain of Taldan
Occupation: Count Haserton Lowls IV listed her as a distant cousin who was visiting him on a personal matter.
Intake Notes: Patient arrived at Briarstone with her cousin and the other four screaming and raving in a blood-soaked nightgown. Once intake inspection revealed that none of the blood was hers, the patient was put in solitary confinement as a safety measure. The patient would later claim ignorance of their actions during their initial intake and of the events that lead up to their commitment, professing some kind of amnesia, not even recognizing Lowls’ name.
Behavioral Evaluation: The patient believes herself to be the victim of some kind of demonic possession that is responsible for her violent episodes. This delusion frequently manifests as body contortions, incoherent babbling, and undergoing a period of dissociation wherein an alternate personality arises. Said alternate is incredibly vulgar and violent and has been known to taunt staff with grandiose claims of the terrible evil it will commit once freed from its “cocoon.” This is, of course, a textbook example of displacement of responsibility likely born of suppressed guilt. Accordingly, the patient’s requests for an exorcism from a cleric of Pharasma or Iomedae has been denied on account of their likelihood to only heighten her delusion.
Phobias: Patient has a severe form of demonophobia. Beyond the aforementioned physical and psychological manifestations, the patient also has a strong aversion to symbols associated with demon cults and even the utterance of demon names. They also tend to avoid sleep as much as possible on account of believing that “it” will “take over” if she does.
Conclusion: Should my experiment with The Chain of Nights prove fruitful with Zandalus, perhaps I can use it to undo Lady Elyssa’s delusions as well.
On the far wall is a space dedicated to an old, battered painting of a towering structure. The tower is a monolith painted in dull grey and yellow, its peak veiled by storm clouds. It holds a vauge ziggurat structure to it, with a wide base and steep layers rising ominously to the heavens. On closer inspection, the tower - titanic as it is - is still incomplete and around the its base is an army of workers struggling against each other within their own camps.
The sylph picks up the bundle of files as if she were holding a newborn child - gently and delicately. She wipes the surface of a nearby table clean, and only puts down the documents afterwards. She gingerly opens the individual files. She sees Alvar's name and her hands shake for a short moment. She freezes in place and composes herself by taking a few breaths, then slides the files that are not hers to the side. Then she sees a name she does not know, and she opens the file.
"Sylph.. Qadiran..." she mumbles under her breath, and a gentle smile creeps across her face. [i]"Nyarai."[/b] she whispers. She doesn't frown when reading it, and the pronunciation comes to her instantly. "Nyarai." she lifts her head and looks at others with a jubilant smile and watery eyes. "We found it." she presses the envelope to her chest for a moment before lowering her head again and looking at it. She reads the whole thing several times. Taking in the details. Trying to connect whatever dots the elusive text presents.
Nyarai sees nothing else in the room. She just repeats her name over and over. Every time she re-reads the document.
"This is in line with what little I remember. Though my last name essentially being 'ant' was something I thought my mind pulled from thin air... but outright being disposed of? What is this 'Chain of Nightd,' as well?"
Iosif points to the latvh next and tries opening it.
Enoch's blue eyes sadly lower to the crumbled yellow clothed woman. Reaching down he takes her yellow robes, cleans the fresh blood from his battered longsword and steps over the body to follow those entering the "Special Records" office.
Following Nyarai into the office, Enoch roams the space while she locates their records.
Shakily taking the offered file, the Tortured Crusader sighs.
This feels like pulling a bandage off a fresh wound. Best make it quick.
He reads....
....he places the folder inside his belt. Without comment he then begins to further investigate the contents of the room.
He solemnly points.
Hidden within the brass frame is a latch.
Ethyl reads the records, and reads them again visibly dissatisfied with the information, "Clearly the doctors here were incompetent, the physical and mental assessments are inaccurate. Not to mention resorting to the Chain of Nights before more conventional treatments are tried. At least we have evidence of our past. Once we escape I will have some strong words for Count Lowls for abandoning us to this place."
A voice in her head suggests, Or travel to Cassomir and connect with Miacknian Mun.
Ethyl notices the latch as well and nods approvingly.
"The physical and mental assessment seem far more competent than the treatment options, at the least."
Alvar doesn't even have the chance to help deal with the cultist as their companions so swiftly and effectively deal with her. "Well. I suppose that's another Apostle in Orpiment dealt with. Unfortunate, really. One wonders whether they're spared the transformative dreams that afflict the others who sleep here."
They shake their head and focus on the files, their brows furrowing. Chain of Nights? The wizard's frown deepens. "It seems that whatever this Chain of Nights is, we were all assigned to it. Were I a trusting person, I wouldn't find that suspicious, but given the circumstances under which we were brought here... I suspect this Count Lowls had a hand in requesting that treatment for us."
They sigh. "They also gave me the wrong gender at the end of my file. Do I really present so masculinely? Once we leave, perhaps I should invest in a set of robes resembling a ballgown." That's probably a joke.
They glance at the painting before they look to the latch. "Another of Zandalus' works, I suspect. It certainly has the right color for his orpiment cultists... and the King in Yellow that the ratling claimed the Tatterman serves.
As Iosif notices the mechanism and pulls at it, the frame clicks away from the stone wall to reveal a cubby holding a thick filed labeled "Ulver Zandalus", a small lockbox with a similar lock design to that in the Administrator's desk, and a magical short sword.
The sword's pommel is crafted to resemble a cardinal, the scabbard is a rich crimson - though covered in dust, and a gold band on the grip just below the guard is the name "Red Destiny".
The lockbox, if opened, contains several items. 40 gold coins, 6 pearls, and a calling card for a "Sleepless Detective Agency", the card dominated by an accusatory eye.
As for the painting, Alvar doesn't identify it, but he does realize this isn't in Zandalus' style. Thus far, his works have been solely in charcoal sketches and landscapes with hidden details. This is a rather fine painting of wax encaustic.
"... or perhaps not? But then whom would've painted this..? It feels similar in some ways, but I suppose..." Alvar shakes their head, then looks over the sword carefully, summoning their magic to identify its enchanted properties.
"Red Destiny." They muse aloud as they do so. "A curious name."
Enoch's blue eyes glance at the short sword. The Paladin looks at his battered longsword.
Not opposed to an upgrade.
"It's a shame there's no way to transfer these enchantments," Iosif sighs. "Who knows what this shortsword has done."
Ethyl raises an eyebrow at Iosif's comment but doesn't say anything. She hands Red Destiny to Enoch while examining the pearls.
Ethyl picks up Ulver's file and begins to go through it, "Hopefully this will be more insightful."
Enoch places his battered longsword into its home. Taking the magical shortsword, the Tortured Crusader takes a few practice thrusts.
Perhaps, Pharasma will rename it.
The pearls are fine, but difficult to value at this time. Ethyl opens Ulver's file, finding the following:
Patient Record: Ulver Zandalus
Male, Varisian descent, approximate age 47
Home suspected to be Rozenport, Versex County
Committed: 2 Sarenith 4685
Circumstances: Transferred from Pharasmin Lamentations in Rozenport
Attending Doctor: Eliege Losandro
Zandalus exhibits complete withdrawal from society and an inability to care for himself in any but the most basic modes. The symptoms of his passive antisociality chronically present as mutism and blankness. Frequent night terrors result in brief but dramatic nocturnal outbursts - shouting, shaking, fear responses. Zandalus grasps the difference between sleep and wakefulness and typically recovers from nightmares quickly.
Treatment: Therapy, antipsychotic regimen, observation
Development: 2/4687: Zandalus proves to be a gifted and prolific artist. He has enthusiastically taken to using a charcoal drawing set to create dramatic but fanciful works of art, typically of surreal architecture and skyscapes. Art calms him in the wake of nightmare. He will be afforded basic supplies to continue such art therapy.
Development: 11/4702: A shift has occurred in Zandalus’s art. He has repeatedly almost perfectly illustrated one of the ancient standing stones situated at the northwestern corner of the asylum grounds. As the isle’s shores are off-limits to patients, I do not believe he has ever seen the subject of his work. The significance or coincidence of this brooks further study.
Development: 3/4715: Count Haserton Lowls has taken an interest in Zandalus: first his art and now the artist. Lowls has become a repeat visitor, spending hours with my patient, but refuses to explain his interest.
The rest of the record is exhaustive. It is quickly clear to any readers that Losandro saw Zandalus as a challenge to overcome with patience and science, but a lack of development in a cure led the normally mundane administrator to turn to the use of The Chain of Nights, an esoteric tome she hoped would lead to the breakthrough she's been desperate for with Zandalus' case, and that of the five of you - patients seeming discarded by this Count Lowls to be forgotten.
Alvar looks at Iosif with their brows arched. "Is what it was used for relevant to how we use it now? Absent any magic I missed, it doesn't seem likely that it will badly impact its wielder." The wizard pauses. "Well, assuming that no one's used it to commit atrocities. If it has a reputation, then that will taint how others perceive its wielder..."
They follow along through Zandalus' file, digesting it slowly. "... so, his dreams have been of the outside world for years." They muse. "And it took Lowls thirteen years between the illustration of the standing stones to begin investigating Zandalus."
They drum their fingers on the haft of their staff. "It's also telling that Zandalus was only put on this 'Chain of Nights' after decades of failure. Did she only receive this tome recently? Or was it solely desperation to defeat the puzzle of his mind? And perhaps more importantly, did it have anything to do with triggering this planar overlap or drawing the Tatterman's attention to Zandalus?"
"It's also telling that Zandalus was only put on this 'Chain of Nights' after decades of failure. Did she only receive this tome recently? Or was it solely desperation to defeat the puzzle of his mind? And perhaps more importantly, did it have anything to do with triggering this planar overlap or drawing the Tatterman's attention to Zandalus?"
Ethyl produces Losandro’s journal, and states matter of factly, ”Only recently, perhaps as recently as one week ago. See here Losandro claims that she would receive the Chain of Nights from Count Lowls in exchange for taking us as patients. It’s circumstantial evidence but the timing lines up with the recent troubles within Briarstone. Since the Chain of Night explicitly covers dreams, Zandalus was plagued by nightmares, and the Tatterman is a dream hunter, I find it extremely likely that they are all related if not directly caused by whatever Losandro found within this tome. She was playing with fire when she delved into things she didn’t properly understand.”
Enoch nods in agreement with Ethyl.
Definitely related. Apparently we worked for this Count prior to being dumped here.
The Tortured Crusader sighs.
Worked for this.... explains the guilt and shame weighing me down constantly. Perhaps if I placed this newly gifted shortsword in-between his ribs....
Alvar nods their agreement to Ethyl and Enoch's assessments. "So it seems that a great deal ties back to this Count Lowls. When we deal with this planar issue, we ought to look into him... especially since, as Enoch says, we were working for him when we were left here."
Assuming we can deal with this... The hellspawn doesn't share that particular thought, instead moving onwards. "The Chain of Night certainly had some sort of role to play in this... though I suspect Zandalus was, in some way, connected to the Dimension of Dreams even before Losandro received it."
Nyarai finally steps into the covnersation. "We can't help but ponder whether Count Lowls 'acquired' Mr. Zandalus, or whether he is still here. Everybody seems to be looking for him." she gestures towards the woman in the previous room.
"Everyone does seem to be looking for him, and for all we know he's trapped in the Dimension of Dreams."
Having now found your own files and learned more pieces of the strange puzzle that is the state of Briarstone Asylum, you have nothing else to do but either return to Winter or continue exploring, hopefully to find more clues to undo whatever planar overlap is occurring here and what the roles of Ulver Zandalus and this Count Lowls have it in.
"I still have a handful of spells prepared, but most of my magic was prepared with the assumption we would be facing off against cultists or undead." Alvar says slowly. "I think we can afford to continue onwards slightly..." They pull out the makeshift map from their backpack with their tail. "The dayroom is out to the right..." They point out the door with one hand. "And storage right there." They nod at the door across the hall. "It might have some food for us to bring back to the encampment."
Ethyl agrees, "We can at least see what is stored here." Ethyl makes sure the passage is safe before seeing what was held within.