"Oh, it's feels like a hot water bottle. I like it... and I have no desire to kill either of you. Looks like it ain't cursed."
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"If I try to kill you, I'm probably not acting normal."
Mahb rubs at the mole on her chin. Hm... Well, I could try to use the same spell I did before to see if this amulet is also cursed. But my guess is that this amulet is genuine and the other is a trap... though I am still toying with the idea of nabbing that other one for study. So, should I use a spell on this fellow OR should I just try it on and you boys get ready to jump me if I start acting strange... well stranger than I already do?" she snickers.
"Fine with me. Besides, likely one object or the other is a key we need to get out of here." With that, the old woman's hair grows at an alarming rate, slithers across the sarcophagus, binds along the edges of the lid, and tries to tear it off.
The next morning, after conferring with her strange bird, Mahb casts spells on both Duke and herself which erases all the damage they suffered the day before. To Gabe's question, she nods. "There's a few interesting tidbits... Here's the mundane part. The crypt on the other side mirrors this one BUT the words are a bit changed. That one holds Vespacio Adella. His birth and death dates are the same - so likely twins. As I recall it, they started feuding for some reason, fielded armies, and killt each other... no surprise for this deranged 'family' and it did end the Voxus line of the Adellas. Also, that placque says COMMERCE is King and courage is Queen, not the other way around. And on the fountain, it says 'brotherhood', not 'fellowship'. Strange message for a fratricidal bastard." She looks to Gabe. "Now we get to the real interesting bit regarding the other room. There's no trap or curse. There is some sort of rare eldritch artifact in the coffin radiating abjuration magic. It is powerful, can harm one's mind, and I was told I should beware it. "
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Hey folks, Sorry for unexplained absence. I got dragged into an unplanned business trip that went far longer than advertised. I'll catch up and post as soon as I can - most likely tomorrow. If you've had to replace my character in the mean time, I understand.
Mahb grunts as she struggles slowly up the rope, slipping often, getting her foot caught, and spinning lazily. "I've got nothing to hide a rope. Could we pull it up after us?" At the top, she heaves her old body gratefully onto the floor, gasping. "That nearly kilt me quicker than the Nemhain."
I'd feel better camping back up the stairs from this crypt. And then we can use Gabe's rope-trick.
Yes, we are just 'downstairs' from the entry where we teleported in. So even if we go upstairs, we are still trapped... unless we want to try some risky teleporting, etc.
Mahb pops her head into the hole. "Nice. Maybe one of the keys we need are in here. Well, shall we press on a bit or do you boys wanna find a spot NOT in this crypt to hole up and recover?" She chuckles at her own joke.
Mahb sniffs around the goods. "Everything here is worth from hundreds to thousands of gold pieces. But that hankie, that's a Portable Hole - might come in handy. I say we take everything - just in case one of these is a sister's keepsake or something else we need."
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Mahb snorts at the trap. "Chain Lightning zaps whoever pries up that plate. The rest are safe if they stand back... more than 30' or so."
Mahb stomps on the remains and kicks the crumbling pillar.
"She doesn't like lightning but I don't know if that's the best way to finish her off. And it could be that she went through the pillar and into that secret room... or maybe her remains are in the pillar. Probably easier to check the secret door first, eh?"
Mahb breathes a little easier and offers the healing wand to Gabriel as both she and Duke are in poor shape. "The Nemhain regenerates... so I wouldn't count her out. Let's get on with our business here quickly and get out. Who's gonna open that door?"
Not sure if Gabriel is close enough to note the nemhain's actions, Mahb barks, "Gabe, she's raised a Force Wall between you!" The old woman considers her choices, seemingly all bad. The ghosts' prattle gets her attention. "These are the murderous Adella sisters of the Sardisi clan! Maybe the sister's keepsake is hidden here - we need it!" Mahb glances at the weak wand in her hand, knowing it would only save one of them with an unbelievale amount of luck... that was greatly lacking in this fight so far. She opts to go on the offensive - the really offensive. The hag calls upon the always mysterious, sometimes dark, and often fickle elemental forces. And they respond. Bolts of lightning strike everything within a wide circle of Mahb - the nemhain, her twisted sisters, every coffin, statue, and pillar. Everything except Mahb and her allies is lashed with furious electicity.
BOOM:
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I'm enjoying the game (Pratchett or not) and willing to keep going - even if I'm dead in the next round. :) It would be nice if the posting pace was quicker but that is what it is. Some games have a lot of engagement, others less so. And - in a combat - you can't be blamed for NOT wanting to bot half the PCs. That said, you as the DM are also a player. If you aren't enjoying the game, you have an equal right to step away as far as I'm concerned. So, while I'm happy to keep playing, if others players (including you) would rather call it quits then there will be no hard feelings for me.
Mahb's hair can't grasp the Nemhain before the spirit is on her. The old woman seems to wither and age under the undead assault. She staggers away from that offending spirit and gasps to Duke with a cruel laugh, "I really pissed that b~$@+ off. Make it count."
BOOM:
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Things happen quickly. Mahb hustles forward as her hair sprouts like tentacles in all directions, grasping at pillars, sarcophogi, the living, and the dead. Leaving her hair to its own curious logic, her mind is assaulted by Pyewacket pouring the knowledge of one of his lesser used spells into her skull. With a shriek, she tries to draw the ire of the Nemhain. Her voice is a bitter scourge, "F@c< your limp-dicked pappy and your whores-for-sisters! I'll tear this tomb down and piss on the rubble!"
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Yeah, I seriously debated taking Ectoplasmic Spell (and things of that ilk) for quite some time.... oops.
Hearing Rasil's shout, Mahb waggles a finger at the sarcophagus. "To be continued." She scrambles out of the room as fast as her boney legs will carry her. She rounds the corner and heads down the stairs as the bird flaps after her and lands on her shoulder. "Coming. Coming." Stopping near the base of the stairs, she takes in the battle and the strange figure. "Bloody hell! A Nemhain, a regenerating spirit! Gabe, lightning is best, fire and acid are a poor second! Don't bother with cold. Light the b*~%& up!" She looks around and sees the other spellcaster lagging behind. "Gabe?"
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Mahb rubs her bony hands together... a move that generally presages the old woman doing something dangerous.
Once the bird is clear of the room, Mahb steps a little further in and then calls on the elemental lords to advise her, asking them, "What will happen if I open the sarcophagus?"
BOOM:
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Mahb scans the room with eldritch and mundane vision. She pokes the bird on her head. "Wait in the hall in case this is a trap."
Mahb scratches her ass thinking - but not quite remembering - a fact or two.
Mahb cautiously walks down the left-hand passage. "I'll yell if I get in trouble."
"Your flagship was called the Harlot." The hag says matter-of-factly, wholly unimpressed with Cap'n MistyPants. She is tempted to speculate that his beloved first wife probably died of boredom due to marrying such a windbag. She refrains from sharing that opinion. Instead she finds some interesting urns and points them out to the others. "Annavale was 18 when she died in 4138. Not a stretch to imagine she died in childbirth... but that's only a likely possibility. And men tend to be very attached to the woman who gave them an heir. O' course, his other wife is called 'Beloved' as well. Fickle."
Mahb examines the mural. "Ah. That's the Harlot, Pasco Voxus Adella's flagship. I think these are his battles against Qadira as well as the Whispering Tyrant"
"Maybe. Or it could be the only way out of this section of necropolis. It looks to be tied to the teleportation magic in that face."
Mahb sweeps the area with eldritch vision, especially all the funeral urns in range.
Through the Looking Glass:
Mahb pokes the bird on her head until it squawks and leaps off, settling on the floor diffidently. "Now, I go through it. If I'm still close enough for Pye to sense me, he'll let you know. If I die, he'll probably know that as well." With that, she steps toward the medusa head to trigger the teleport.
Mahb jumps when Duke vanishes. "Son-of-a..." She says with a tinge of humor, "Well, if that wasn't a teleport - we each get a larger share of the treasure." From a safe distance, the old woman examines the magic with eldritch eyes, trying to confirm it was indeed some teleport variant as opposed to an express trip to the 354th level of the Abyss.
I'm good with that.
Mahb offers gleefully, "Well he is blind as a bat... maybe you sound short."
"We found that bloody knife."
"All that walking didn't do my bunions much good." She wiggles a foot painfully, "Where to next?"
Mahb puts two of the magical stones in her pocket - in case they became useful at some point. She sets the Orange Prism spinning around her head. She hobbles along behind Duke.
The old woman examines the magical stones and describes what they do.
Mahb sniffs around the room. "Mebbe it's my optimist nature and chipper attitude...but I don't want to believe this room has been looted. And also, who looted it when everything else seems untouched?"
The hag follows after the vanishing scouts, very much visible.
"You're not blind, just dazzled by my beauty." She lets out a dramatic sigh at how hard it is to be so gorgeous. Then she slaps Duke lightly on the forehead and his vision clears. "Better?"
"They're saving the 6-armed mummies and draco-liches until later."
"They weren't very personable. No respect for their elders."
The old woman hobbles into the room and whistles appreciatively at Gabriel's pummeling electro-aquatic blast. She doesn't know much about these creatures except they seem to like light and heat. But Outsiders had so many changing immunities, it was impossible to know what would affect them. Given that, she falls back on 'the old reliable'. She screeches to the elemental lords and is rewarded as a bolt of lightning lashes from her clawed hand, whips into the Shining Child Gabriel ignored, then arcs and grounds itself in the other Child.
BOOM:
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"These kids are lucky I'm not the sort to have a gingerbread house." The hag's hair grows with alarming rapidity, coiling like snakes - great and small - along the floor and walls within 20' of her. One tendril lashes out to brush Duke. A jolt of energy flows from it, healing Duke.
BOOM:
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