This long dance drags on. The Tatterman attacks Enoch and misses twice.
Iosif clears his misfire then blasts the Tatterman from nearly point-blank.
Alvar reloads their crossbow, mentally running through their bolts. I'm going to run out soon. I'll need to go in with a knife or the like, if I do... It isn't an appealing prospect to them. Still, they lift the crossbow and fire once more.
Ethyl goes for the throat.
Enoch absently wonders about getting claws, as he attempts to stab him...once.
Anyone bring snacks?
Enoch and Alvar miss, Iosif and Ethyl hit. Seeing how little his claws were doing, the Tatterman makes a mad dash for the dropped razor, hoping for a literal edge in this slow, maddening dash.
Picking up the razor the Tatterman does a little flourish, satisfied the metal isn't burning anymore. A breeze rustles the creaking rafters, through the holes in the walls and roof, and the fog spewing from Zandalus' corpse filters and thins.
Enoch's blue eyes look at the Tatterman with only resolve!
As entertaining this is, Pharasma wants to see you!
The Paladin casually walks up to him and...
Ethyl holds nothing back, but she is found wanting nevertheless.
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Nyarai's voice continues reverberating through the room.
Alvar lifts their crossbow, reloading again, and fires their bolt, but it goes wide. They hiss their annoyance, wishing desperately they had more spells.
Iosif fires once again.
"Damn you all!" The Tatterman, dodging all but Enoch's slash, stabs at the paladin in turn. However, the efforts of Alvar and Nyarai protect their ally.
"You should have just died!" The doppelganger's voice cracks, confusion and panic setting in.
Enoch absently strikes!
The Paladin shrugs.
I suppose bit by bit is actually against my code, but....
Ethyl says, "Why would you expect us to cooperate with such a request?" She frowns as the Tatterman doesn't cooperate with its own demise.
Nyarai appears momentarily with a grin on her face. "You should listen to your own advice, fiend." With a smile and laughter, she disappears in a flurry of tatters again.
Alvar grimaces their annoyance at the doppelgänger's continued survival. "Honestly, if it would spare us your whining, it might be worth it." They take a few steps forwards, allowing their magic to protect their companions, then reload their crossbow and fire in the Tatterman's general direction.
Iosif aims for a headshot... and barely scrapes the Tatterman's scalp.
Still snarling, the Tatterman reaches out to try and fatigue touch Enoch.
Ethyl stabs her dagger into the Tatterman hoping she struck an artery.
Enoch lazily lifts his seemingly heavier than usual shortsword to perform it's duties!
Any chance we can take a time out?
Powering through the fatigue, our noble paladin brings his weapon up and then down on the Tatterman. Both exhausted, Enoch manages to remain standing as the Tatterman is split open from shoulder to hip. Instead of blood, a last gasp of yellow fog escapes the monster's wound as he dies with an inhale rather than an exhale.
The doppelganger is finally slain.
Standing in the tattered, stained throne room, the five of you might not believe it at first. However, as the last of the yellow fog fades away, the silver light of a waxing gibbous shines through the ruined ceiling.
Ethyl erupts in a full throated laugh ”Oh hahahahaha.” All the tension that she was holding in her body relaxes and turns into exhaustion. Dreamily she gazes at the moon overhead she nods at it, ”Don’t think that I’ll become your supplicant over this. You were using me.”
Almost as an afterthought she searches the chamber around Zandalus and turns up the treasures. She wonders out loud, ”What do you suppose happened to the Chain of Nights? I was hoping to peruse its contents, but perhaps it is better that it is lost.”
She crept down to the cultist camp, hoping that with the fog gone that the patients would be pliable. If it was safe, she would inform Dr. Elbourne of their success against Aggra and Zandalus. Later she would give the same report to Winter and the people holed up in the chapel.
Finally she asks sardonically, ”Is there a way off this island? I tire of the repose Briarstone Asylumn offer.”
Written in the late 1200s by the Keleshite doctor and seer Valhadis, The Chain of Nights explores the brain as an organ, as the lens of perception, and as the throne of something more.
The Chain of Nights is first and foremost a text on the anatomy and workings of the brain, and the first several hundred pages concern themselves with diagnosing, analyzing, and treating—via therapy, drugs, and basic surgeries—numerous physiological and psychological afflictions. Only in the final third does the tome turn toward more esoteric topics, such as the source of nightmares, accounts of the Dimension of Dreams, and descriptions of the creatures that live there.
Any reader who spends 1 hour consulting The Chain of Nights can immediately after use the hypnotism occult skill unlock once per day
even if that character isn’t capable of casting psychic spells or doesn’t possess the Psychic Sensitivity feat. Also, after 1 hour of consulting the tome, the reader gains a +2 bonus on a single Knowledge (planes) check related to the Dimension of Dreams. Additionally, the tome contains the spells dream, dream council, dream scan, dream travel, and nightmare. Most notoriously, it contains an elaborate—and some say
flawed—ritual for releasing one’s dreams. While the rite functions, the side effects of failure can create dangerous beings known as oneirogens.
Blue eyes just watch the disappearance of the doppelganger.
Perhaps we can let folks know it's safe...er?
The Tortured Crusader does smiles at the sight of the moon.
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Alvar sags, sighing heavily as the Tatterman falls and the fog slowly dissipates. "Gods." They can't manage to form more words for a few long moments, struggling with a mix of exhaustion and relief.
They shake themself and then get to work searching the area, determined to find any further evidence of what happened at Briarstone. "I've found it." They reply to Ethyl, pulling the book from its hiding place in the mattress throne. "Along with other interesting items..."
They swiftly cast their gaze over the various items, scanning them for magical auras and attempting to identify each.
Alvar reveals what they've discovered to the other (ex-)patients. "Some of this could be quite useful." They observe mildly. "If no one objects, I would like to take the scroll, but beyond that, the rest might be better used by others." They look around at their companions. "Either way, I think I should keep the Chain of Nights in the backpack." They indicate their haversack with their tail.
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Ethyl nods in agreement, ”Of course my dear, you will make best use of the scroll, as will I make best use of these potions. But I would like to study the tome at the earliest opportunity as would you I suspect.”
Despite her unease she stares at the symbol on the ring as it shifts and morphs and yet doesn’t. She tears her eyes away just as it begins to claw at the back of her mind.
Nyarai finally appears in yet another flurry of rust-coloured strands of fabric. She is looking at the windows, and eventually her gaze rises up to the sky. She looks at hte moon longingly. "We meet again. It's finally over." She smiles. Approaching the other inhabitants of the asylum, she keeps her distance from them, almost hiding behind her companions.
She does looks curiously at the book ALvar picked up in Zandalus' room.
Enoch absently picks up the magical ring, offers a prayer to Pharasma and places it on his finger.
The Tortured Crusader smiles.
This fits. She wouldn't want it any other way.
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Returning from whence you came, the party will find the brewing violence had ended and many of the Apostles are out in the inner gardens through the western wall laughing and crying in the light of the moon. No one is wearing a shred of yellow, a few now naked as a result.
Wren sees you descending down the stairs, his left arm hanging limply at his side. He opens his mouth to call out, but decides against it and simply makes his way over to you.
"You did it! I didn't think it was possible to wake from this nightmare, but you did it. As you can see, the Apostles are no more. Any who were loyal were either killed or beaten into submission."
He gestures to another half-dozen bound and bloody against the northern wall sitting beneath the crucified corpse of the Bag Lady. The other bagged victims had been taken down, a few taking down the last one from its spot on the wall.
"I think it is safe to rejoin that other group you had elsewhere in the asylum. We can start with small groups to not overwhelm your leader, then work on getting off this island."
Nyarai shakes her head. "The room seems even more menacing than before. If that's even possible. Maybe a meeting of delegates from both camps to talk details. We're new here." She looks at the party for reactions.
Enoch walks over to Wren, shakes his hand and smiles at the man.
This particular nightmare may be over, but we must all stay vigilant. Evil's reach is long.
When Wren suggests meeting the other group, the Paladin holds up a polite hand.
Perhaps we should report back, debrief them and then make introductions. We certainly understand everyone is a bit excited but those others are still jumpy.
Enoch walks over to Wren, shakes his hand and smiles at the man.
This particular nightmare may be over, but we must all stay vigilant. Evil's reach is long.
Ethyl comments, "Quite."
Then she suggests, "We should still be careful, I assume that most of the patients here suffer from various mental maladies and so are unpredictable."
She looks in Loomis's direction, " But I assume that we have managed the most violent among them."
Alvar looks around the room, bemused. "How swiftly fortunes turn." They observe. "One must wonder, then... did the Tatterman cause the people here to obey, or was it simple fear of the Apostles? Or both?" They lapse into silence for a moment.
When they speak again, it is on another subject, quite ignoring the signs of violence around them. "I believe that our leader, inasmuch as we have one, would be pleased, at least, to hear from you. However, I would caution you, as my fellows have alluded to, in journeying too quickly. There may yet be ghouls or doppelgängers that we did not slay... to say nothing of any refugees from the Dimension of Dreams that may have been stranded here."
I still don't understand how this planar overlap happened. Alvar frowns, struggling to recall any information that they might once have known that would provide them further insight. Instead, however, memories of spells come rushing back, new things to inscribe into their grimoire. Excellent, but still unsatisfying.
Wren nods sagely as the party recommends caution even now. "No, that's fair. Everyone's here for a reason, after all. Perhaps the administrator's office? That's middle ground enough?"
"I believe it is, yes," Iosif says as he idly cleans his weapon, tyring to avoid a misfire in the future.
Ethyl comments, "So long as you don't mind the mess. But at this point I expect most everyone is accustomed to it."
"It likely won't prove a problem..." Alvar considers for a few moments. "We should take care, though, of infiltrators - doppelgängers, that is. Whether we leave them behind in our bases or bring them along to the meeting, it could be a problem either way."
Nyarai points at Alvar, indicating agreement. "Wise words. Being paranoid could prove useful in this situation."
Iosif nods. "It definitely could."
Enoch simply shrugs at Wren at the suggestion of the administration office. The Paladin prepares to set off back to Winter....errr...the Chapel....
He seems to be blushing...