"Wait." Alvar grasps Enoch's shoulder, anticipating that he might charge in again. "Remember the illusion before."
With a soft chant, they summon up their magical senses, examining the room carefully for any signs of illusion or other magics.
As Iosif draws closer, he sees a middle-aged man tied to the southernmost bed by his wrists and ankles. He is asleep, but clearly having a terrible nightmare, struggling against his bonds amid stained and crumpled sheets. His face is contorted in fear, twitching and shaking as he cries: "No, damn you ... Monster! Don't get closer ... leave me alone!"
Barely noticeable, wisps of yellow vapor rises from his cracked lips, increasing in density as the man struggles.
Enoch's blue eyes just look down at Alvar's red-skinned hand. The Tortured Crusader sighs entering the infirmary walking with purpose at the sight of the yellow vapor manifesting.....
"What is that yellow vapour," Iosif ponders.
"The sleeping mists we saw with Losandro?" Alvar suggests quietly. "Whatever it is, it's not innately magical. But this could be another oneirogen..."
Ethyl takes out an inkpen, wets it, and starts taking notes. "Perhaps one in the process of being made. Losandro was completely unresponsive, he is clearly in the throws of a nightmare. We should observe what happens to him. I don’t think removing the restraints is warrented at this time."
As the party watches, the bound man suddenly tenses up. Those paying attention will see a long thin bruise appear on the side of his neck, slowly going across to the other side as he seems to bleed from the inside. He twitches for a moment longer, before he falls limp, no longer breathing.
It is silent for a moment, then the corpse's eyes pop open as his skin darkens and his ears elongate. His teeth fall out, replaced with long sharp ones and his tongue lashes out, long and red. The ghoul bursts free of his bonds and scrambles to his feet.
"Ah, not an oneirogen, then." Alvar hisses. "That was a transformation into a ghoul. The mists are from outside!" They summon up the Fifth Guarding Sign, drawing it in the air and warding themselves and those around them, then retreat as quickly as they can from the ghoul.
Iosif takes a few very hasty steps back as he realizes it's a ghoul, and then fires a normal bullet at the creature (again, tearing through any DR/magic it has).
Alvar successfully tumbles away from the ghoul as Iosif's bullet rips into the new undead's clammy flesh. The ghoul howls in fear, rage, and hunger, stepping up to attack the nearest person, Ethyl, with gnashing teeth.
However, having been tied down for who knows how long and just waking up in this state, it's attack is off balance and it misses.
Enoch's blue eyes sadly lower at the yet another yellow mist sucking ghoul manifestation. Stepping (or Striding if needed) into a Flanking position with Ethyl, he promptly attempts to cut off it's head!
Enoch's maneuver and blow put the ghoul out of its misery, the undead head soaring across the room. The body collapses as the party bears witness to one of the patients or former staff transforming into one of the most common creatures haunting these halls.
In the corner southwest of the bed the ghoul was once bound to, two objects of note are seen. Investigating, the party finds a straightjacket and a hoodwink cowl. Otherwise, there are no other bodies or items in the Communal Ward.
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Alvar looks at the cowl curiously. "Presumably intended to keep a patient from getting overstimulated. It might be useful for keeping a cultist prisoner out of trouble." They pick it up with their tail and slide it into their enchanted pack. "Unfortunate that we couldn't find anything else of use here, but at least the ghoul isn't going to come after us from behind now."
"Perhaps wake the next one up. Hopefully, they will survive the ordeal." Nyarai keeps her gaze on the body and the throat that got slit out of the blue.
Enoch absently begins shuffling as the rooms contents are discovered, discussed, decided.
Shall we continue onward. Perhaps we can end them prior to them fully ghouling out?
"It's probably a good idea, unless anyonne here as a cure to ghoul fever."
Ethyl thinks for a moment, "Treatment options to assist the body's immune system exists but there is no cure I know of.
"Don't get bit and test fate," she suggests helpfully before continuing south.
Alvar shakes their head. "Absent a potent priest, I know of no 'easy,'" their tone is bitterly amused, "cure for ghoul fever. Of course, I am no medical expert, and bow to Ethyl's own superior knowledge-" They cut off their sentence when the half-elf speaks, nodding gravely.
"This is especially complex, as sleep itself is the vector for the disease... assuming we don't get bitten." The abjurer grimaces. "I can attempt to ensure our protection, so long as you stay close enough to me, but that magical protection is relatively limited."
Straightening, they sigh. "Let us carry on. No doubt there will be more to deal with before we get back to the chapel."
"And none of us can turn him into an elf, either," Iosif says as he knows what little of magic he knows.
Continuing to head south, the party comes upon a meeting of hallways, the western section of which is filled with rubble from a collapse of the asylum. To the east tall windows let the sickly yellow unlight filter in, giving the space an airy feel. Amid the rubble a ghoul is feverishly digging at the rubble, having seemed to have made progress in an attempt to reach the other side. Despite the combat a moment ago, the ghoul doesn't seem to notice your approach, panting and continuing to dig.
A sign barely hanging onto the wall labels the passage blocked with debris as "Gardens", the hallway further south as "Patient Rooms", and beyond being "Admitting".
Ethyl wastes no time, she steps up to the transformed person and swipes her razor-sharp claws at the undead.
Ethyl, applying her garnered knowledge of ghouls up to this point, goes for a fatal strike, only needing one claw to slay the creature where it crouched over the small progress its made in clearing the rubble. The rest of the party watches in awe as the undead is slain almost effortlessly by the doctor.
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"Do you..." Nyarai looks at Ethyl with a raised eyebrow after she eviscerates the ghoul. "need to talk or something? Get stuff off of your chest?"
Ethyl regards Nyarai and wipes her pointed fingers with a cloth.
She says obliviously, "I'm not sure what you mean my dear. In the academic sense, yes, I must socialize to maintain proper brain functioning."
She considers for a moment, "I suppose I have had brief flashes of episodic memory, but it has not been useful or relevant to our current circumstances, so I didn't bother sharing. Although, I was working on a cure for Gillamore Plague and the principles maybe could be applied to ghoul fever. Should one of us succumb to the disease, I may have a viable treatment with sufficient supplies."
If Nyarai's eyebrow could rise further, it would. "Gillamore plague? In Qadira? It doesn't sound familiar. Then again..."
Shr taps her temple with her index finger. "Empty vessel."
Enoch doesn't react at the quick termination of the ghoul.
We could have waited for it to dig through first. Had lunch or something. But efficiently done.
The Paladin prepares to continue the opposite direction of the partial tunnel.
Iosif ignores the quick kill of the ghoul, he's a little shocked that suck a quick and effortless kill can be done by hand, but he has a little while ago blown a head into mist and it barely bothered him, so clearly something is up with him -- so he inspects the rubbl instad.
"This rubble isn't load-bearing. We could clear it if we want with a few hours of work."
A ting of fear colors Ethyl’s next words, "It goes to the gardens. I'm afraid if we uncover the tunnel it will let through the yellow fog outside. If we have no other option..."
She moved to the nearest southern door and ever paranoid checks it for surprises.
"It's rubble, I don't think it's dense enough to stop fog."
Alvar scratches their chin at Ethyl's display of savage destruction, remaining quiet as their companions discuss the options facing them. They take the makeshift map out from their satchel, examining it for a few moments. "There are, I think a few doors out there that lead into different parts of the building. I'm not certain it would be to our advantage to spend so much time trying to clear the blockage, especially if our goal is to return to the chapel. We'll be able to get out into the garden from the south, if we want to... assuming that there aren't more collapses keeping us from doing so."
The door Ethyl and Iosif approach is broken from its hinges, and within the spartan quarters is a bloody scene. A vaguely humanoid shape of gore and broken and gnawed bones litter the stained sheets and mattress. Iosif's keen eyes spots a glint of gold in the gore, finding a signet ring with a hawk-and-holly insignia.
A man - his face out of focus but wearing a holly-and-hawk ring - approaches and shakes the gunslinger's hand. "Thank you, sir, and thank the Count Lowls for sending you. I didn't think a small Varno village would garner Versex's attention."
"The Count's interests aligned with your issue." Iosif kicked the foul humanoid abomination at his feet. "Be glad for that."
"Well, whatever the reason, we are in the Count's debt for ridding us of these skum."
This is the fourth school of skum that the Count's uncovered in as many months. Iosif thought, absently taking the collection of coin the villagers' donated to him. What has drawn so many to Ustalav? Or what has caused them to become more bold with their activity? He shook his head. Questions for the Count to consider.
Of Ethyl is disturbed by the gore she doesn't show it.
Ethyl looks at the design on the signet ring, "I'm not familiar with this family. Hmmm. I doubt they need it anymore."
Enoch absently follows along, holding his shortsword in both hands ...
Peeking into the blood-gore freak room, the Tortured Crusader sighs and stands guard outside of it...
Iosif seemingly zones off, but regains clarity as he says, "What's with all the fish-people... anyways, this is from the Millair family. the de facto rulers of Redleaf Lake and the village of Redleaf in Varno county"
Ethyl looks at Iosif confused, "Fish-people?"
Alvar blinks at Iosif's comment about the fish people, their brows furrowing as they nod their agreement with Ethyl's question.
Still, they momentarily set their confusion aside. "Varno... is that very close by? It's strange that a noble from another county would be sent here... unless, I suppose, they were ashamed of the 'mad' member and didn't want to deal with the scandal."
[b]"Sorry, spurts of... memory? hyseria? delusion? It's impossible to tell if those are my memories or manufactured ones.
Iosif stays silent, the amnesia lefting a gaping hole on where Varno county is.
"There is no way to know one way or the other currently, perhaps once we escape this nightmare we can verify the stories our minds are telling us."
Ethyl moved to the next door, made sure it was safe, and peered inside.
Enoch absently follows Ethyl....
And Nyarai shadows behind, being her usual timid self.
Alvar nods their agreement. "It will remain a mystery until we have the means to investigate further. Perhaps the staff or other patients will know more." They chuckle darkly. "Of course, it probably isn't relevant to our difficulty here, but one can never say for sure."
With that said, they follow Ethyl slightly closer, moving as quietly as they are able and keeping a careful eye and ear out for any threats.
A shapeless mess of sheets and pillows piles atop two plain beds. Bold chalk letters high on the opposite wall proclaim this to be “Brenton and Debis’s Room." While there is no sign of violence in this room, sized for two young children, there is an atmosphere of tragedy hanging in the air. Alvar and Ethyl find no ambushes or traps in this room.
Amid the tangle of sheets, Enoch finds twin carved wooden knights - like oversized chess pieces - nested amid the stained cloth. Carved into the bases are the names "Brenton" and "Debis". The party might recall one of the two children being watched over by Tolman in the chapel is named Brenton.
Enoch pockets the toys until the most opportune moment.
Be a shame if the kid doesn't have his toy. Nightmares and all that. Kids.
The Tortured Crusader readies to proceed...
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Nyarai looks at Enoch stores the toys. "I agree.", she adds hesitantly. "-IF- they are safe. Can anyone take a look?"
"Allow me." Alvar casts their gaze over the wooden knights with a slight frown, then invokes their spell to examine the items for magic. Brenton was one of the children in the chapel. Was Debis a playmate? A relative? That seems unlikely... two children put into a sanitarium is one thing, but two related children is quite another.
"Agreed, we should probably bring them back." Iosif says. Though the idea of helping so much felt... wrong. Diseased somehow.
Ethyl clears her throat and asks, "Shall we?" She moved back to the corridor and moved to the next door.
This room is a miniature battleground. There was a struggle, as two yellow-robed Apostles lie battered and bloody at the foot of the bed. On the bed lies an ancient man, in whose hand is clutched a bloody high-heeled boot. His face is frozen in a victorious if vicious grin, dead eyes rolled back in his head. The other boot lies in the corner of the room.