"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.
Search Posts
@Jacquelyn: Another patch of calm weather, nothing yet to worry about. As for ease, I'll make a note that every even day (days 2, 4, 6, etc) its cast and at the beginning of the day I'll include it with your daily task assignment. That work?
I showed up for jury duty once upon a time, only to learn that it had been canceled as I show up - or earlier that day, lol.
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.
Djehtui marvels at the elaborate trap built into this staircase. Designed to activate at the top but trigger at the bottom, it was designed to ensure an entire group would suffer the stabbing spears lining this staircase. It is close and takes over ten minutes - if not more - but finally the elf sighs in relief as they return from the bottom of the stairs and signals the party with the "all clear". At the bottom of the stairs is a preparation chamber. The air in this chamber is cool. The walls and ceilings are tiled with stone, but the floor is hard-packed earth, giving the area an unfinished quality. A long stone table rests against the western wall, flanked by two large brass urns. Two passages lead north and east out of the room. Adding to the unfinished nature of the room, the stone tiled walls are bare, no murals or bas reliefs. The earthen floor bears more signs of a struggle. Lines of fingers grasping for purchase show humanoid hands and feet being dragged towards the stairs, with ancient blood stains at the base of the table and mixed into the disturbed earthen floor. Perception DC 25: The torch sconce in the southwestern corner of the room would temporarily disable the trap on the stairs down here, for approximately 10 minutes at a time before resetting.
JACQUES
RAMADA
"Fishface! Pick up the pace, eh?" LILY
No worries, Doctor, if you're back then your back. Welcome back.
Happy Second Worst Day of the Year. I'm sorry for the molasses pace here. I've been debating what to do with Ramada's absence. It has been over a month since his last post, so I am going to have to drop his character. I'll put it up to the party of you want a sixth character brought it, this is good place geographically to do it. Once we decided I'll move us along. Once again, I apologize for the doldrums.
Ew XD Thanks for the heads up.
This long dance drags on. The Tatterman attacks Enoch and misses twice.
I hope he comes back too, I've enjoyed Luke and I'd hate to lose him.
I'm willing to bot Luke till the end of this dungeon. I reached out to his player but I haven't heard back. If they don't rejoin us by the end of the dungeon, we can either just drop him or pull in another player.
As the party flails at the adherer, Luke drops the chest and uses his newest tool to great effect, bringing the flail down on the creature with such force as to crush the alien predator and crack the altar beneath it. With a dramatic ripping sound, he tears the flail free and mutters "Good riddance" or the like.
Ethyl stabs into the space the Tatterman previously occupied, but she strikes not but air. As the party prepares for the return of their adversary, he reappears five feet north of his previous place and takes hexed slashes at Enoch. One claw misses, but the other just manages to strike.
While Alvar's bolt misses, Iosif's bullet does not.
The party flounders with the strange foe. The adherer in turn flails its arms at Amal, but due perhaps to the odd position or the weapons already stuck to it the attacks miss.
If he doesn't post can Djedefre change his action? He had cast Guidance on Luke. I'll allow it.
The night is uneventful, rolling into the fifth day. Same as before, Plugg and Scourge assign tasks. This time around, the Wormwood is sailing a bit closer to shore. Not so close as to tempt those without , but in the shallow clear waters fish and a bale of leatherback turtles can be seen swimming around the ship. Those assigned above decks will cast glances over the side to watch.
Jacques, as he meets with a sober Kroop, is handed a harpoon and treble hook. "Got it in me 'ead to catch us some leatherbacks." The shorter man smiles wide as he'll lead Jacques up on deck and begin to walk him through the process of targeting large turtles swimming along the shallows. Lily is assigned to swab the decks, along with Sandra, Scrimshaw, and Aretta. Ramada is sent to man the bilges. Aamu and Jacquelyn are sent up to be lookouts as the Wormwood sails closer to shore. Izkaen is tasked with line work along with Slippery Syl and the Narwhal.
Haven't heard from Luke. Going to move us along if I don't hear from him today.
The Tatterman, seeing an opportunity, takes a back and vanishes with a muttered curse.
The Tatterman's lamprey mouth widens as a chorus of shrieking voices erupts from its throat. A parade of faces twist in and out of view beneath the yellow linens as the doppelganger turns northward to those he can perceive. Seeing - or rather not seeing - Nyarai escape, the doppelganger takes the silver and half the bullet's damage - the bolt didn't overcome - and turns his claws back on Enoch. Even hexed, his left claw scrapes past the paladin's defenses, dealing damage.
"Desna is a flighty whore!" The Tatterman snarls, his wound from Ethyl's dagger hissing from its effectiveness.
The glittering dust fades away, and as it does the Tatterman rushes Nyarai, risking Ethyl and Enoch's attacks. Ethyl's claw misses, but Enoch's Red Destiny strikes true. Reaching Nyarai, the Tatterman rakes at her with his claws.
"Is it still funny, witch?!" The Tatterman's voice takes on a childlike aspect, tickling Nyarai's mind like she should know it from somewhere.
Ah, but I had forgotten about Alvar's warding. Hero point to the wizard and Enoch doesn't take the 8 damage, as Tatters would have missed then.
Izkaen approaches the gnome, who’s leg seems well tended to, as are those wounds Ramada tended to. “Felt worse than it was, it seems.” Giffer sniffed, gingerly touching the area. “You’ve brought a keen eyed doc aboard, elf. Smells as weird as he looks, but he knows what he’s doing when it comes to stitch and poultice.” She will continue pleasant small talk as long as Izkaen desires, seeming to warm up to the odd bunch brought on most recently. SLEEPING
@Enoch, I don't see where Nyarai cast Protective Luck on you in this combat. She cast it on Alvar. If I'm wrong, then he probably misses then.
Amal finds their khopesh also tangles and sticks to the adhesive wrappings of the thing, also noting that not all the damage went through. The juicy mummy raises its arms and attempts to slam both into Amal. The first strikes Amal, the second misses. The sticky linens are more akin to enlarged webbing, Amal notices, the strand-like material sticking and tearing at their skin.
Know(nature) DC 14:
This is an adherer, a victim of the Ethereal Plane and phase spiders. Adherers now are predators that turned their webbing bonds into tools to prey upon more victims, favoring humans. They have DR, a potent grapple, and darkvision.
Enoch and Iosif manage to strike the Tatterman, while despite the party's efforts to keep the doppelganger in sight the bogeyman is proving a hard target to hit. Tatters swings his claws at Enoch, the paladin having managed to strike him. While Enoch was able to deflect the first, the second catches his arm, dealing damage.
Stay warm and safe.
The Tatterman snarls and attempts to claw Ethyl, swinging both of his claws at her. Both miss, the desperation in the doppelganger's position becoming evident as its breathing grows ragged.
Djedefre finds no magical auras, but both he and Senemheb notice holes along the walls down the next set of stairs, along with a pressure "plate" on the top step. As they investigate further, the "mummy" sits up and moves on Amal, giving a brief vindication for their fears.
GM check-in on my players. We good? Have I missed something/messed up?
The Court descends into the crypt. DC 20 Perception:
It is almost impossible to see, but there are signs of a struggle on these stairs. Ancient blood stains, signs of dragging and attempts to cling to the stairs as someone was dragged up and out. Someone was dragged out of the crypt a long time ago. A stone altar sits upon a raised stone platform in the center of this square room. Caryatid columns carved in the likenesses of male and female figures with their arms crossed over their chests and khopeshes or ankhs in their hands stand at each corner of the platform. Empty torch holders are built in all four of the room’s corners. Across from the altar is another staircase descends further into the darkness. The altar sports symbology of both Pharasma and AOP funerary deities, and Djedefre recognizes that this space would function as a shrine. Atop the altar is a dirty, wrapped mummy with the linens torn enough to allow peeks at the brown desiccated flesh beneath.
The Tatterman does not seem to be affected by the magical dust, but his outline is clear - a glittery silhouette in the amber mist. As Iosif's bullet misses He lets out the first note of a cackle before Enoch's blade, Ethyl's flame, and Alvar's spell strike him, changing the noise to one of pain. "Curse you!" The Tatterman does not waste time extinguishing the flames but he does drop his razor. Taking a he flexes his claws and swings twice at Ethyl. Thankfully, the flames and glittering dust signal his attacks and the half-elf dodges the enraged strikes.
@Nyarai, I'd allow that to cancel out the miss chance.
The Tatterman, finally taking some damage, turns on Ethyl and swings his war razor at the doctor. "Quite the pretty sight you make under the influence." He drones as Ethyl barely manages to avoid the horridly maintained weapon.
The droning lullaby begins to fade away as members of the party close in on the creature, similar to the doppelgangers they've encountered before but the differences including the magical powers and influence over dreams.
When the divinity is victim of dramatic irony.
Alvar summons his celestial hound. However, it enters the fog and tries to attack the Tatterman, but becomes repulsed and retreats whining. Enoch misses his attack on the Tatterman, who strikes back with his war razor. Thankfully, the bloody, rusted blade scratches the paladin's armor rather than flesh.
Returning to the master bedroom, using the key disarms the trap and unlocks the clever chest. Within the chest are 20 small golden ingots each bearing a Keleshite styled seal. Each ingot is worth 25 gp. DC 20 Know(his) or Know(noble): The seal is that of the ninth Kelish sultan of Osirion who ruled after the satraps were replaced. His name was Borzuyeh, and he was known for his tolerance of the worship of the gods of the ancient pantheon, a rarity during the Kelish occupation of Osirion.
The last rat is slain, and the sloshing of water and winces of pain give way to the steady creak of wood as the Wormwood's bilge is once again calm. Lily had already looted the bilge, but another investigation reveals the dire rats had slipped into the bilges from the deck above from a now ruined grain supply.
Returning to the upper decks, Plugg is not impressed, commanding the five of you to either briefly check in with Ramada and then get back to work.
The Tatterman's voice cackles from within the fog. "You think this over, no? You slayed the oneirogens and think yourselves safe?"
The fog begins to swirl, mingling with the droning lullaby as the party watches it intently. It grows hypnotic, loosening the tension from your bodies.
Enoch: Entering the fog, you see shapes within. Some are humanoid enough to be harmless. Others are misshapen and inhuman, with claws, horns, barbed weapons and slavering maws. One of the humanoid shapes is less veiled and stands with a short blade in its clawed hands. It turns its yellow-bandaged face to you, a lamprey mouth twisting into a cruel smile before the fog closes like a curtain around it once more.
"Come, little lost heretic. Come and be properly reintroduced to the Spire's whore." That damnable rasping voice calls to you.
Ra's blessings wash over the weathered dress, the sickly gray and earthy tones of decay shimmering into stainless ivory linens. Satisfied it can be touched, members of the Court might reach out and feel the cloth, marveling at how smooth and finely woven it is. Two millennia ago this would have been the envy of Wati maidens. The Court might recall the words exchanged between Ariseti's haunt and her words with her lover, debating fleeing before the mobs reached them. It is not hard to realize the fate that befell the woman who was meant to wear this dress. No haunt rises to the occasion, but the dress is ghost enough for those who might think thusly.
The voice purrs as Enoch steps into the fog, humming that damnable lullaby. "Wait your turn, haunted one. Iosif? Sleep."
|