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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."
The rat is dazzled by Jacquelyn's spell. Aamu's foot strikes his target, but the others miss theirs. The rats continue their assault but they fair no better than the pest control crew. Cyan must have inhaled some of the brackish water as it thrashes and hacks uncontrollably
Luke and Amal, once again proving their status as the Court's powerhouses, wail on the second vargouille and smear it across the dusty floor. Almost a minute passes before feeling returns to Jolánka and Senemheb's limbs, the pins and needles coating every inch of their body from skin to bone as the shriek's effect wears off. This room bears murals across every wall, each scene signed with Ancient Osiriani with the name "Ariseti". The scenes painted on the walls depict the arrival of a Keleshite sultana in Wati by royal barge, a ceremony or possibly a party where a young woman is being anointed and crowned while a gathering of onlookers observe, and another where three young women swim in a river while armed guards with spears watch from beneath the shade of a tree. The style matches that of the previous room's single mural and depict events in someone's life. A sketch and notes of these would be exactly what the Church of Pharasma was asking for. Buried beneath a pile of debris is a darkwood hope chest worth 100 gp. Inside is a white silk Osirian wedding robe that is extremely fragile with age. There is also a set of inexpensive green stone and bronze jewelry worth 35 gp and a strand of freshwater pearls worth 200 gp. A small sealed tube contains five applications of kohl of uncanny discernment. A sealed scroll tube holds a rolled-up papyrus painting, preserved unlike the dress and safe to handle. Unscrolling it the Court recognizes the woman from the haunt involving the ring downstairs, signed by Ariseti and worth 80 gp to a collector. It is the same style as the murals in the two rooms, so it would be same to assume this is a self-portrait of the artist. Perception DC 13: While the dress itself is ancient and any attempt to touch or move it in its current state would destroy it, mending, make whole, or similar spells would restore it and allow it to be safely moved again. Restored the dress would be worth 150 gp.
The voice laughed. "Who else am I going to ask, black powder warrior? You're doctor has it correct, witch. I am known by many names, the most enduring being the Tatterman. As for the absence of your memories, if I was behind such a thing why would I ask you about it?" The voice sighed. "Clearly we are all so very tired. Voices being raised. Questions circling back on themselves. Why don't we all just rest for a while?" A haunting hum emits from the fog, slowing minds and adding weight to eyelids. The voice asks. "Iosif, was it? Why don't you put down your musket and rest?"
Senemheb and Djehuti:
Vargouilles have no resistances, and you already know about their kiss, paralyzing shrieks, and poisonous bites. Luke's new toy smashes the vargouille to the floor, finished off by Senemheb's blade. Amal is less fortunate, the flapping fiend dodging the native's weapon. The remaining vargouille distends its jaw and looses a bone-chilling shriek.
"Ah, it is nice to finally listen to intelligent thoughts for a change." The voice rasped in a dry sigh. "I am the source for most of the monsters here, yes. I see you've had little lasting issues dispatching my works. I use the same method, the forms they take are due to their own issues." "It should be familiar, tiefling. This voice was the one I used when I killed you. Or at least when you died there. The Queen of the North Star has opposed us before, perhaps that is all it is." "As for the cult? That was all Zandalus. He didn't want me loose, and he misunderstood his role in what is occurring. The insane have their uses, doctor, but they are exhausting. As is this conversation, since you do not seem to know more than what I have gleaned from your immediate thoughts. Having no memories is frustrating, no?"
Jacquelyn:
These are dire rats, common enough vermin. Their bites carry filth fever and they have low light and scent for perception
Yellow dodged Jacques' rapier due to the standing water providing concealment, but Lily and Izkaen removed Yellow, White, and Gray from the fight. The remaining three take bites at the legs of Lily and the two Jacs. However, no longer surprised the three bites miss their targets.
The Court finds a room not too dissimilar to the previous room, though they do not have long to check for murals or even smell the rank odor now wafting out. Two creatures that - in the dark room - seemed like large bats, now shriek and dart forward as what could only be the forewarned vargouilles distend their jaws and peel back dry lips to greet the Court.
RAMADA
When Ramada was finished, she tested his diagnosis, her taut weathered face smiling just a bit. "That'll make Plugg less likely to box me for missing work, at least. Appreciate it, Doc." BILGES
misses Aamu; misses Jacquelyn but aids flank and takes 2 points of damage; crits on Jacques and deals 8 points of damage; and Lily is bitten by and takes 3 points of damage. Everyone bitten needs to make a DC 11 Fort save to avoid a disease.
"Ah..." A voice from somewhere in the fog sighed. A voice Alvar is familiar with but the others now hear. "That's so much better. Thank you for killing poor unfortunate Ulver. I so wanted to speak to you face to face, but he wanted to keep me locked away."
"Now, tell me. Why - by all the dark forgotten gods - are you five still alive?"
BILGES
Any sloshing or rustling ceases as the hatch opens, the natural rocking of the ship covering any signs of movement with its own disturbing ripples. The way down the steep stairs into the bilge seems clear otherwise, with drops of blood glinting in whatever source of light is provided.
Djehuti:
The game was called senet, but one of the Kelish satreps outlawed the game in a bout of madness, attempting to erase all knowledge of its rules. Djedefre checks the door, and while it is not locked or trapped, he does hear somethings rustling inside the room.
A few hours into the day's work, the gnome Giffer barrels up on the top deck, her single remaining eye wide and her face ashen, looking more bedraggled than usual. She takes a moment, catching her breath and nursing her leg, before limping over to Plugg. She animatedly informs him of something, showing him her leg, leading to him boxing her ear and dragging her over to Ramada. "Oi, fish face! Tend to this one. You! You! You! You! And you!" He points at Jacques, Jacquelyn, Aamu, Lily, and Izkaen. "Giffer here says something up and attacked her in the bilges. Get down there and don't come back till you show me a carcass or few." RAMADA
DC 15 Know(nature):
Peeling back the cloth, Ramada will see a bite mark and a missing chunk of the gnome's lower leg. The doctor will identify it's source as a large vermin, most likely a dire rat. BILGES
DC 20 Perception: Listening through the hatch, you can hear splashing and rustling below. Somethings are down there.
With the cult leader stuck on the spittle, the party are able to tear into Zandalus. Claw, blade, bolt, and bullet shred his skin, knocking him over onto his back, his feet planted to the floor bending at the knees. From his handful of wounds, yellow fog spews forth the fill the room with the same density as the wall that was surrounding the asylum in six seconds.
lol, that last one was complicated.
Enoch's strike is true enough, his short sword carving an angry red line through Ulver's robes. The cult leader attempts to break free from Ethyl's spittle but is held fast. He casts a spell at Enoch, and despite the retaliation from the paladin it goes off but the ray misses.
JACQUES
Know(local) DC 15:
This is known as giving the "tines", a Chelaxian rude gesture referring to an infamous form of public execution in Infernal Cheliax of impaling people alive onto massive sharpened tines. LILY
JACQUELYN
AAMU AND IZKAEN
The door Luke and Djedefre approach is slightly ajar, and a foul, cloying smell wafts out from it. Peering inside, the Court can see that most of the contents of this room have fallen apart or otherwise been reduced to dust from the dry desert air. A smaller room or alcove takes up the southeast section of the room; it was once closed off by a wooden door that since has rotted away, leaving only its hinges in the doorframe. The lower section of the eastern wall has a faded mural painted onto it, depicting a young boy playing in the reeds with a wooden khopesh in hand while a family sits on the river bank. Perception DC 10: A few minutes of searching this room uncovered a Small rusted dagger in the Ancient Osiriani style, a handful of marbles in blue, gold, white, and red colors, and a small lacquered box.
The box is an ancient Osiriani board game, the rules of which have long been forgotten . The box itself serves as a game board, and inside there are small, stone playing pieces each capped with the head of a desert animal or Ancient Osiriani deity. To collectors and Osirianologists the set is worth 50 gp.
"Indeed we should, witch." Ulver's head rises with a jerk, more something pulling it up. His whole body is drawn taut, his dilated eyes snapping open and his jaw gaping just a bit more than should be comfortable. The voice does should like it should come from his throat, and it is heard differently by each of you. Iosif hears overlapping Infernal and Abyssal. Ethyl hears three male voices, each sentence beginning with an affectionate tone before ending with venom in their voice. Nyarai hears a mob of overlapping voices, bloodthirsty and zealous. Enoch hears a dying man, tortured and scared. Alvar hears a voice he suddenly recalls hearing just before waking from one nightmare into this one. "I killed you all already, yet you stand before me without changing. Is it that shrine to the Queen of the North Star? I'll be sure to tear it apart once I remedy my mistake in allowing you five to live." Zandalus is "pulled" to his feet, picking up a scepter-like mace with spirals carved into the tube-shaped head, and he steps forward.
He casts a spell, a shimmering arcane layer covering him, and his skin pales and his eyes darken - an effect the party recalls from their one-time ally Elyssa.
The night wraps up as neatly as the day began. No one is punished, no one fights, and other than some sour bets lost from Lily's wins spirits are slightly raised from Rosie's music lulling them to sleep below decks and Jacquelyn's promises of clear skies.
The fourth day is met with Plugg and Scourge divvying up assignments. Lily and Ramada are tasked to general repairs: sewing sails, splicing ropes, etc. They are joined by Jack Scrimshaw, Tilly Brackett - a Taldan woman who passes the time cracking jokes, and Jaundiced Jape. Aamu is tasked to line work, hoisting and lowering sails, and is tasked to this alone. Izkaen is tasked with rigging repair, joined by the halfling Ratline. Jacquelyn is tasked with raising and lowering the mainsail as demanded, joined by Samms and Shortstone. The gnome, having been told off my Jacquelyn, now seems to ply conversation from the friendly Samms. Jacques finds a sober Kroop in the galley, organizing his herbs, spices, and fishbones and offering a swollen-lipped smile to his "matey". Fishguts ensures cooking goes by without a hitch.
Opening , the Court finds the dusty remains of an office. A large lacquered desk, now in poor condition, sits in the center of this room. Bookcases stand along the eastern and southwestern walls, sagging as if ready to collapse at any moment. Their shelves have fallen out, and the piles of dust at their bases are all that remains of books and scrolls that failed to survive the long years. The lacquered wooden frames of what might once have been divans stretch along the north and south walls, but their upholstery has disintegrated. Perception DC 20: A search of the room and the desk uncovers a brass key, one that matches the design of the trapped chest discovered earlier.
At the end of the hall lies an amber lit room. Comprising multiple toppled cells, this chamber looks as though it could collapse at any moment. Thousands of parchment scraps cover the walls, as if in a pitiful attempt to plaster the countless cracks. The flickering of dozens of candles illuminates the artwork’s subject matter: innumerable forlorn, surreal landscapes stretching into bleak infinities. The multitude of visions transforms the room into a threshold of nightmares. Scenes the party recognize turn to vistas they do not. The memory of the thing that hunted them returns to their minds, something changing shape to take on their fears and nightmares. Imagery repeats: swirling skies, empty cities, towering monoliths, and threatening figures cloaked by mist. Perception DC 16:
You notice that a number of the monoliths and the cities seem to be the same, as if they’re depictions of a single object or place, not just fanciful impressions. The monoliths are in sets of three, one set looming over a sleepy looking town while another towers over an exotic ruin. Upon a makeshift throne of mattresses and linens, sitting like a Keleshite or Vudran mystic, sits a Varisian with remarkably straight white hair. He wears multiple patients’ gowns that have been shredded and stitched to create a layered robe. His arms and much of his chest are exposed, revealing lines of charcoal and yellow chalk that streak his flesh, the most prominent of which appears to be a yellow flame on his forehead. His eyes are closed as if in meditation and has not seemed to have noticed the party's approach.
Samms tells Aamu what she knows - or thinks she knows. Harrigan has always been captain of the Wormwood. He'd never admit it but recent years had been marked by a string of rotten luck for him and his crew, adding to the hearsay of the ship being "mildly" cursed. Some have taken to whispering that Harrigan made a deal with a devil to turn his luck around, a theory that had gained traction with tales of renewed Chelish interest in the Shackles and Sargava further south.
@Djehuti:
Vargouilles are outsiders with no immunities or resistances. Their bites are poisonous and their "kisses" turn victims into vargouilles. Over the course of 24 hours, the victims hair falls out, their ears warp into leathery wings, their scalp and chin sprout tendrils, and then the head rips itself free of the corpse. Luke and Djedefre hear nothing in and find the door untrapped and unlocked.
JACQUELYN
AAMU
"Been on the Wormwood for a couple of years, didn't get pressganged but I'm admittedly not a fan of how the cap'n does things. Don't let Scourge catch me saying that out loud." RAMADA
Badger nods as Ramada speaks of his encounter. "The Stitchman? Aye, that sounds like him. The cabin girl, Caulky, got a piece of something in her eye, and Mister Quarne let his tool slip. Cost the cap'n's favorite an eye. You better be better than that, fishface." "As for me? I got pressganged onto this fine vessel maybe a decade ago. Stayed on Scourge's good side till I proved myself, now I just do what I'm told unless I feel like earned a bit more than normal. I wasn't much of a sailor before that, but I was a quick learner and steady on my feet. That'll get you far on the waters, more than mere strength will." "I have seen a few things. Heard more. Heard Infernal Cheliax is building a navy to reclaim Sargava, and that the Hurricane King is demanding black powder weapons as tribute in addition to booty and bodies from the Free Captains. You've had the fine fortune to take to the seas during a tense time, doc."
Understood, hope she is okay. Take your time.
There is no magic, and as the Court nears the corpse it does not come to life. What clothes remain are tattered but in the local contemporary Osiriani style. The most disturbing feature is the lack of a head. On the corpse's hand is a golden mundane ring worth 50 gp. If removed and inspected there is an inscription in modern Osiriani: "To Akar from Panhet, Love Eternal". DC 12 Heal:
He was Garundi, Osiriani by the look. Rather than being decapitated by a blade or even claw, the head - wherever it is - seems to have been ripped off of the neck with slow but deliberate force. DC 12 Perception:
Clumps of coarse hair can be found on the dusty floor. DC 17 Know(planes) if both previous checks are made: This corpse is the victim of a vargouille, killed by one then made to spawn another upon his death.
This haunt proves the most benign of those encountered thus far, unable to ensnare the party as they scout ahead. The hallway turns to the west as the fog continues to clear, leading to a long westward hall plastered with more sketches in yellowed parchment and charcoal vistas. This are nowhere as fine of work as those framed in Losandro's office but as the party nears them they cannot help but be drawn to the fine lines and figures seen in these alien landscapes as single scenes are extended into dozens of pieces of parchment. Five figures are seen in seemingly unconnected locations. A desert caravanserai beneath a moon very close to the earth. A ruined city with three titanic standing stones looming towards black stars. A doll-like woman dances with a masked and robed figure amid a decadent but decaying party. Things crawl up from beneath a manor on a hill and feast on humans. These scenes continue to plaster the walls, floor, and ceiling of this hallway and into the final chamber at its end.
Yes, stay safe, all. Hope things work out, Iosif. Also, funny exchange there. Wish this forum would allow custom icons or at least add more.
Opening the doors to , the Court finds a dusty but rather still put together room. The walls of this room are decorated with a scenic vista of a river valley running through a desert, resplendent with verdant life and greenery near the shores. Only a few pieces of lacquered furniture remain in the chamber. A faint, musty odor of decomposed wood and fabric lingers in the air. From their vantage point entering from the western door, Amal notices a pair of sandal-clad feet poking out from the alcove in the southeastern corner. Pointing it out to those with darkvision or low-light vision, the skin exposed looks like it has began to decompose, rather than be bare bones.
Alvar:
You came face to face with him in the prologue - indeed not that Alvar would remember. But based on information you've gathered I'm willing to tell you that much. As the party recollects themselves, the papers fluttering about garner their attention. The slow, twirling patterns and flights the sketches take are almost hypnotic, lazy trails that spiral and draw the viewer in. Know(religion) DC 14: It is another haunt, animated by Zandalus' visions that inspire his now infamous charcoal sketches. This haunt will end with Zandalus' death or recovery from insanity.
Djedefre finds no traps on the stairs heading down into the mausoleum. Reentering the house they ascend the stairs and return to the second floor.
AAMU
JACQUELYN
JACQUES
Also, how are we all?
Enoch, your delusion that something is watching you increases, having now borne witness to just some of the horrors hiding just within the fog. Your penalty to perception checks involving sight increases to -4 as you refuse to meet anyone's gaze without extreme outside compulsion.
@Jacquelyn: Ah, piss, I forgor. Clear skies for the next 48 hours.
Opening the stone doors, the Court is presented with a lengthy stair descending at an even 45 degree into darkness. The walls of this downward tunnel are smooth, catching no light and casting no shadows. Even those with darkvision are unable to see the bottom. The sand at the threshold is disturbed by the doors' opening, the change in air pressure causing it to be sucked in, also tugging at Amal and Luke's clothes as they open the doors. An eerie inhale of life into a long dead throat.
LILY
Maheem challenges Lily, the Garundi man a head taller than most of the crew. However, as Lily channels her rage the human's fist and forearm are shoved mercilessly into the bloodstained metal tacks kept for this game. Half a dozen crewmen had gathered for the match up, and quite a few coins exchange hands. . GENERAL
"Sorry, laddies and lassies. Ain't his fault, twas mine. I was nae payin' me mate no nevermind." Plugg appears and speaks softly to Kroop, who dejectedly follows him into the captain's cabin. A few minutes later he emerges nursing a busted lip. He gives Jacques a friendly wink before retreating back below decks.
@Alvar, yes, you'd be woken by the debris. @Ethyl, night terrors sounds about right. Are you referring to this lesser madness?
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