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Indeed. That being said, considering posting rates have slowed to a crawl, and I've been dealing with a lot of schoolwork that's been leaving me exhausted, perhaps it's time to call it here. If you wish to keep going, I'd rather you have a new GM take over in my stead.
Councilor Hearthmount stands still as a statue, his eyes turning glassy and unfocused. Sheriff Caeller nods once at Imperia and turns to bark orders. "GABRIEL! KORVAN! FLORIA! Stop panicking and get water! Everyone else, stay calm and get out of the building!"
The sheriff's orders cause most of the crowd to turn to him, their panic momentarily abated. Two men and another woman beat a hasty retreat from the building, snatching up a bucket or two on the way out. The remaining citizens start running for the doors, scrambling over pews and each other as the fire begins to spread. Unfortunately, they start to jam together at the door, pushing and shoving and trying to fit past each other to escape! Sheriff Caeller throws off his cloak and trying to beat some of the fire down...
...and his cloak manages to pat out the flames enough to snuff out part of the burning eastern side of the building. The two flaming skulls see Imperia, howl in anger, and throw themselves at her!
Imperia barely fends off one, but the second one catches her in the back with a THUMP. Flames lick at the back of her coat.
Post and map up!
When Imperia gives her warning, the burning odour intensifies. In the space of a heartbeat, the town hall's windows shatter inwards, and a gust of wind blows two of the lanterns hanging on the wall off their perches, causing them to shatter as well. A mad cackling fills the air as a pair of flaming human skulls swoop into the room, and soon the cackling is drowned out by screams of panic and the roaring of flames as the town hall's walls begin to burn. Councillor Hearthmount stands behind his podium, stiff as a board and not moving, his eyes wide as saucers. The skulls see Imperia and Filiana, and their cackling turns into howls of rage as they hurl themselves at them.
Sorry for the delay, again. Had schoolwork to do. Will try to post tomorrow afternoon.
The librarian and the sorceress depart the Lorrimor estate, starting on the road into town. As they approach Ravengro's town square, they soon notice that everyone in town appears to be gathering in the town hall. The townsfolk have worried expressions on their faces; some are trying to hide their anxiety with limited success. The inside of the town hall is packed with people, their murmurs filling the air. The far end of the main room has a podium upon a small platform--but no one is currently behind it. Whoever is meant to speak doesn't appear to have arrived yet...
Sorry about the delay. Busy studying for a test, and next week is shaping up to be very test-intensive. Will try to update tomorrow afternoon.
The night passes.
When the party rises the next morning, the clouds have begun to part. Curiously, the sound of a loudly-tolling bell is coming from town...
I'm feeling rather ragged running several campaigns at once--especially during the holiday season and with school to go to. I'm thinking of putting this campaign on hiatus for the holidays, and I'll think about whether I want to continue running this campaign or handing it off to another GM to run. Does anyone object to me putting us on hiatus for now?
The party practically flies from the haunted prison, beating a hasty retreat back through the prison blocks before escaping up the hole in the prison's floor. An odd scent of blood lingers in the air around them as they flee, accompanied by a chill. Jayla is absolutely silent as the party retreats, returning to the Cathedral of Pharasma and setting her down. She's trembling, holding her robes tightly to herself, and her thrush is looking at her with a forlorn expression. "...will I be safe here?" She asks, not looking at anyone.
Sorry for not posting, folks. Tomorrow, I start my practicum placement, so I'm going to be getting some hands-on work experience. I'll try to update Monday evening.
Hey folks! Just posting to let you know that I have exams this week, so I will not be posting updates until Friday afternoon.
Filiana's heavenly ray closes up some of the stigmata on Jayla's palms. The changeling sighs in relief. "...can we go? Please?"
Imperia's Perception Roll: The room is cold, damp and quiet. Aside from your companions and Jayla, there doesn't appear to be anything else amiss...
Khardan's Heal Roll: Jayla currently has several wounds on her hands, feet and forehead.
Jayla gasps for breath, shaking and bleeding. "I... no. No, I'm not alright. I feel so weak..." "...what was I doing this whole time?"
Khardan's spear strikes the Father squarely in the chest--and it pierces the ghostly symbol of Arqueros over the foul spirit's heart. The charlatan doubles over in pain, the spectral wind knocked out of him (an impressive feat, for a dead man).
Jayla's eyes suddenly snap open. The chains binding her break and fade into nothingness. The charlatan flails, his eyes turning glassy and dead before his form breaks apart into oblivion.
Father Charlatan flinches as the haunt siphon wracks the chains on Jayla...
...and one of the ethereal chains snaps free, causing a pale stigmata to appear on the Father's forehead. The charlatan reels in surprise. "What's this?!"
I don't think the party had a chance to rest before coming back. Is that correct?
Knowing that he has no real means of attacking the ghostly Father, Dr. Cawthorne hurries to Jayla's side and tries waking her.
Bramwell hurries over to do the same.
Their efforts don't seem to have any effect. Father Charlatan guffaws. "Please, do go on. She doesn't have long to live anyway--why not indulge in futility?"
More blood pours from the wound in Jayla's forehead.
Father Charlatan sneers at Khardan. "What, again?"
Khardan races through the hollowed stone passageway beyond, barreling through another hidden doorway to reach the cellblock holding Jayla. When the party gets through, they see Jayla--lying on the floor, bound in ghostly blue chains. Her eyes have rolled back into her head, and she's shaking violently. Red stigmata are forming on her hands and forehead, bleeding profusely. And above her, with a smug grin on his face, is the haunt of Father Charlatan. "You're welcome, Hean." He chuckles. Then he notices the party charging in. His smug expression transforms into one of annoyance. "...and speak of the sodding devil."
For a split-second, Imperia feels a strange compulsion as the iron maiden's doors open. It passes swiftly. There's a click from the wall next to the iron maiden as a secret stone door pops slightly ajar.
As Imperia approaches the iron maiden, she finds it opens easily, despite its rusted hinges.
Will get a post up when I get home.
Khardan practically tears the southern door off its hinges as he barrels through it, the rest of the party following behind him. Numerous grisly tools of torment decorate the room beyond, from cages to hanging chains along the walls to a stretching rack, a large wooden tank, and a fire pit in the middle of the room. To the east stands a grim iron maiden, the lid closed and presenting a stern decoration of a tormented woman upon its face. The broken, twisted skeleton of a human dressed in a tattered guard’s uniform lies upon the stretching rack in the middle of the room; the body is surrounded by several discarded knives, branding irons, and pliers. A large, bloodstained wicker basket sits at the head of the rack. DC 20 Perception: There's a secret door built into the stonework of the eastern wall, next to the iron maiden.
I'm really really really sorry for the delay. Wednesday afternoon, I'll be free and available to post. I swear.
Got a busy day ahead of me. I'll post this evening. Sorry for the delay.
For a moment, there's a dead silence as Imperia breaks the seal on her haunt siphon. Then a mighty rush of holy energy races forth and engulfs the dwarf in an instant. The Marauder can only wail in anguish & despair as his essence is drawn into the siphon, the stopper slamming back into place. The contents of the siphon turn a pulsing green colour. The remaining floating skull immediately crumbles into greasy black ash.
Filiana's swing narrowly misses the incoming skull, and the Marauder leans away from Khardan.
Bramwell looks at Filiana's target, unlimbers his scythe and hacks at it!
He splits it in half with one strike.
This time, the pale ray that lances out from it strikes the Marauder squarely in the chin. The ghostly dwarf flinches and reels backwards!
Incidentally, the Mosswater Marauder is a haunt.
Imperia skewers the fleshy head and it abruptly stops screaming. A bolt of blue energy flies from the back of its skull and strikes the Marauder squarely in the head.
The ghostly dwarf flinches, but refocuses on Imperia, his shadowed, empty eyes burning. "...yes. Your skull has a better shape." Dr. Cawthorne recoils in horror and swings his club at the severed head flying at him!
In his fright, his club catches the edge of the cell door next to him. The remaining heads rear back and fly at Cawthorne & Filiana respectively...
...only to miss spectacularly. The head flying at Filiana bounces off the stone wall next to her. The Marauder raises his sledgehammer and runs right at Imperia. "Hold still. Need one last piece." The hammer comes down!
And with a twist of her body, Imperia evades the wild swing!
Cawthorne squawks and grabs his head as well. The headaches fade, being replaced by the stench of gore and the sounds of a hammer striking flesh. "Pretty thing... pretty thing... almost done, my darling, almost done..." A gruff voice says. Emerging from the western wall of the cellblock is the pale blue, spectral form of a dwarf in filthy prison rags. There's a large sledgehammer in his hands, and his long, stringy beard is caked in who knows what. A ghostly skull floats nearby, hundreds of fractures running along it. A blade-shaped fragment is still missing from its crown. His eyes look squarely at Khardan's head. "...I'm almost done, Tarna. One more piece, and you'll be whole again." The Mosswater Marauder intones, and in response a cacophony of screams erupts from the cells. Three severed heads fly out of the cells and begin to bear down on the party, howling in pain & fear.
Khardan goes on a tear, running down the western corridor, past two doors to the north & south, and emerges into a massive cellblock, similar to the one to the south. A brass nameplate, its face caked with soot, hangs on a stone beam at the entrance to the llarge cellblock. Many of the iron doors along the walls within the cellblock hang open, revealing empty cells within. Another door lies to the south, between cells to the south and east. DC 15 Perception: ...you feel a flash of headache pain as you enter the room.
Imperia's Perception: The wheel in the centre of the adjacent guard room looks like it's attached to the portcullis here. If it were to be repaired, the portcullis would likely be fixed.
Alternatively, you could look for another way into the room...
Jayla makes no response.
Filiana's Detect Magic:
Jayla is glowing like a star at night. Imperia's Perception: The basement is very cold, and the room beyond looks quite dark.
The party reaches the southern wing of Harrowstone's basement, and can see the expansive cell block through a wrought iron portcullis. A door on the eastern wall opens into what appears to be a guardroom, with a charred black wheel connected to a rusted iron chain situated in the centre of the room. Several iron doors line the walls of the partially ruined cellblock—the doors themselves hang askew on their hinges, revealing empty cells beyond. Partially burnt wooden support timbers still function to the north, while to the south they’ve collapsed and caused cell walls to crumble as well. Rivulets of water drip down the southwestern wall to create a shallow pool in this ruined portion of the room, with overflow filling an oubliette hole in the middle of the room nearly to the rim. And standing at the edge of the hole, in a daze, is Jayla.
A quick heads up: I've got some tests to study for, so my posting for the coming week will likely be limited.
The doctor and the dhampir give chase to the rest of the party, Cawthorne in particular calling out to them. "Wait! Blast it, WAIT!"
Imperia studies the cloth. She remembers Jayla liked to wear that same colour of cloth.
Filiana's Detect Magic: There don't appear to be any magical auras in the room.
Father Grimburrow scarpers off, deeper into the cathedral. Imperia's Perception: Looking around the doorways, you feel a draft coming from one room--it feels like it's coming from the Pharasmin archives.
Further searching into the room reveals the archives are in disarray, as if a violent struggle took place in them. Papers & books lie scattered about, and a window above a nearby desk is broken. There's a piece of fabric snagged on a shard of glass in the window's frame.
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