There sure were, some of which the young wizard recognized, student of geography that he was. And knowing the distance these names represented he rather paled at the journey suggested. What had he gotten himself into? Far from a brief Varsian excursion, this was turning into a border bursting expedition. Not only that, but the stakes of said trek had also increased in an order of magnitude still difficult to wrap one's poor head around. Lost royalty, a nation in danger, and fiendish assassins? It was all far removed from Samton's daily life among dusty tomes and ink wells to say the least.
And yet what could he do but nod dutifully along with Sandru's words? No, more so than that, he wanted to be part of this adventure, an admission that frankly affected him more than the prospect of danger ahead. Perhaps he really had changed over this last month. Perhaps he was only getting to truly know himself now; he was a teenager, after all. The heck did he know about Samton Verro?
But whatever the case he knew he could not abandon his friends now, nor leave the Kaijitsu sisters to their fate. He was in this now, for better or worse. In fact, this rather all felt like fate. Sam thought on his mysterious arcane patron, somehow linked to Minkai. Any chance of this all being a stupendously massive coincidence was now gone. The caravan was driven on the wheels of fate, and he was caught in them.
So here's an inevitable question: I picked up Craft Wondrous Item with Poppy's departure. GM, can Sam craft during the journey?
"Sam has something for you." Kajiwara motions to Sam to give Ameiko the box.
"Huh?"
Even putting aside Lor-Sinn's shambolic snafu of a summary, the young wizard was just a bit flummoxed at seeing the object of all their worries up and running. Wait, Ameiko was fine? When had that happened? He couldn't help but feel both foolish and ashamed; not only had their desperate quest to save the woman apparently been for naught, not only had it been completely unnecessary, but he had even been readying himself for her demise in their failure. It was something of a whiplash to see her hale and hearty, to say the least.
Though a very welcome one, of course, relief and happiness burying these sensations within Samton's mind. "Uh, right! W-well, we'd hoped that it could be used to cure you, but..." He held out the box housing its much desired treasure. "T-this belongs to you, I guess. Being the proof of rule for the Amatatsu line. Being the last royal family of Minkai. Being you."
Boy, this was weird. He'd always held a great deal of respect for the woman in growing up, but Sam had never had the inclination to bow before her until now. "A-although you may just want to take our word for it!" he added, suddenly remember. "We have an inkling that opening the box may, uh, attract the aforementioned fiends. Something about them sensing the seal. Not sure how that works yet."
From being deathly ill to hunted by a cabal of fiends? The situation wasn't actually much improved, the young man's rational head reasoned. But he didn't pay it too much heed. Not now. For now he was just glad that Ameiko was alive. "V-very nice to have you back by the way, Ms Kaijitsu," he smiled.
Knocked back and now coughing on the floor, it was honestly less so the bodily impact than the mental blow that had young Sam reeling. Minkai? The land overrun with fiends? The ghost was Ruka's grandpa Rokuro Kaijitsu - no, Amatatsu? Which was also imperial family line? Which in turn meant that Ruka and Ameiko were royalty? A talking sword? What? Terribly clever as he supposedly was, the wizard still had trouble parsing all this information. Especially so in understanding where said information had even come from.
And yet one bit stood out to him, really the only one that mattered at the moment: this strange dragon seal held fantastically potent curative powers. And that was what Ameiko needed right now. Willfully grabbing hold of his inquisitive nature - currently scrambling to piece all this disparate data together - and wrangling it down for now, Samton told himself that this was enough for now.
"*Cough!* R-right!" he nodded to Lor-Sinn suggestion for the same and climbed to his feet. "We should get this thing to Ms Kaijitsu quick as we can." He moved forward to grab pick up the statuette and its box, some reverence for the artifact nevertheless slipping into his tense bearing.
Samton's muttered exclamation did not reach far, stagnating on the frozen air that followed the emergence of the unnatural apparition. Another castle guardian for whom death proved a mere hurdle to their duty? Yeah, the wizard had to assume as much. But, he noted with concern, the foe before them was a greater threat still than the wight they has fought upstairs. For one, he wasn't even sure the group could harm the flickering shadow that was its form.
Wracking his brain for how they were going to manage this, Sam hoped the undead would prove receptive to Asuka's appeal.
Ah, good old Prestidigitation. A hundred uses in one spell, one of which was as a cleaning cantrip, something young Sam found himself quite thankful for in travelling the road; a quick incantation beat washing one's clothes constantly. And it made scrubbing the maltreated shrine a cinch too!
Now if only it could wash away disappointment as well. The wizard looked very dejected indeed standing before the empty treasuries of the castle. Really? Nothing? He supposed this shouldn't be too surprising. Kikonu and his little gang had resided here for some time, after all. This didn't make coming up empty after all this time any less disheartening, however. Kajiwara's suggestion offered only a little hope. Yeah, maybe there was something here the oni had missed.
Perception:1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 1 + 2 = 7
But if there was, Samton wouldn't be the one finding it. Hm. He looked the portcullis mechanism over, wondering if puzzling out the construction of this vault would help.
"Nah, wouldn't think so," the young wizard voiced haltingly in agreement with Kajiwara. "Although if, uh, this one," (he nodded to the now headless avian on the floor) "was some sort of priest, maybe the corbies here all worship Pazuzu. Perhaps Kikonu did so too, given his winged form. Actually... come to think of it, I might have read of harpy cults also dedicated to that demon. Huh. M-maybe Ms Zaiobe was in on it all too. Sort of all fits. Maybe."
'Patron to everything evil that flies.' Sam thought he'd heard the so-called King of the Wind Demons described in such terms. Considering every major inhabitant of the castle they'd met, 'evil and flying' were terms quite applicable to them. Well, except for the corbies. Those were just bird-like. But still. Heavens only knew how they all connected to the Pazuzu worshiping decapus downstairs, but there was no way that was a coincidence.
Oh well. All dead now. Inquisitive as he was, however, he couldn't help but be curious. The old adage of an ounce of prevention being worth a pound of cure held true even in quelling evil, and Samton wondered whether evil could ever be stopped at the source unless it was understood.
"T-thanks, Ms Imass," he said at the blast of curative magic from the paladin, its soothing essence banishing these somber ruminations from his mind, momentarily. Best to just give the room a proper a look-over before moving on. As it happened, there was a fair bit to see. "Oh hey." The cartographer lifted a little trinket. "Isn't this that thing Ms Spivey asked us to find for her?"
Sam rubbed at one ear in a fruitless attempt at making the ringing noise screeching in his head go away. Tinnitus? Really? He forewent evocation specifically to avoid tinnitus! Mr Gandethus had always told him that all evokers were half-deaf before they hit thirty, what with all those explosions they liked...
Oh well. If you can't beat 'em, the young man reasoned in retrieving the newly acquired wand from a secure pocket. With the others seemingly having this fight well in hand, he might as well go for some combustible evocations of his own. Now if only he could aim right. Holding the implement as tightly as he could and bracing himself, Samton spoke its command word. Two great gouts of fire sprayed forth, dancing through the air and rising up to make a luminous arch near the ceiling before diving straight down for the corby.
Huh. Hold on, are these depictions of Pazuzu again...? OW, JEEZ, MY EARS!
Fort save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
These were the young wizard's (rudely interrupted) thoughts in entering the chamber and seeing the ominous winged figure painted throughout. The dire corby's tremendous screech of a spell singed out any other intelligible thought from the otherwise so adroit head, leaving him clutching his ears. Sam's last inkling was wondering whether these corbies realized that the great wind demon they apparently worshiped probably didn't care for their kind, flightless as they were.
Taken aback and wondering what in the world he'd done to deserve being singled out by the Ulfen, Sam nevertheless tried to answer her very justified query. "O-oh, I'm sorry, did no one tell you?" Wait, had no one really told Signe about the entire reason they were here? That was awfully neglectful, if not to say outright rude! His foster fathers had raised him better than that.
"Uh, Ms Ameiko is Ms Ruka's older sister, you see," he hurried to explain, simple face apologetic and earnest. "She's from Sandpoint, or, well, we all are. Uhm, that's a village south of here, just north of Magnimar." Best to add these details, the cartographer reasoned; no particular reason an Ulfen should know where every hamlet in Varisia was. "We're all part of a caravan, and when we approached Brinewall, uh... Ms Kaijitsu - t-that'd be Ms Ameiko - just collapsed. We first thought it was a fever, but if so it was unlike any fever our, um, resident healer had ever seen. Couldn't find any sign of poison or malign magic about her either, or at least not c-conventional magic. In the end we reasoned that something in the area must be responsible and given the entire fort full of beasties, well... we thought that'd be as good a place to start as any."
Boy, that sure sounded like grasping at straws when put like that, huh? "I-it's a slim hope, I know," he acknowledged with a wry grin. "But we didn't know what else to do. W-we hoped that whoever ruled here would be able to tell us something. Unfortunetly, Kikonu the Oni was completely clueless himself. So now, uh... Now we just..."
Now what? Now they stubbornly explored every last cranny of the castle because acknowledging that they probably weren't going to find anything to help Ameiko here would be too painful? Yeah. Yeah, maybe. Samton's rational brain was perfectly aware that they were in all likelihood too late, that finding a 'cure' for the woman here had been a gamble in the first place. Young as he was, however, he wasn't ready to admit this just yet.
"W-we'll see what we can find, yeah?" the wizard concluded with a none too convincing smile. "We owe that much to her. S-sorry, did that answer your question? Y-you should ask Ms Ruka if you want to know more about Ms Kaijitsu. Uh, I can tell you that she used to run a, uhm, tavern. Oh, and that she was an adventurer once. A-and she was always good to me..." His voice faltered. This last bit made the young man ashamed to even consider giving up.
"Hey, uh... We're glad to have you with us, Ms Signe. It, uhm, means a lot for you to be willing to help us help Ms Kaijitsu."
Samton examined the opalescent pearl, part of the haul the group had recovered from the dungeon, in the morning sunlight. Sitting by an open window, the trinket glittered really very beautifully and while he could appreciate it as such, the young man's regard was primarily scholastic. He understood that not every point of light within the little orb was wholly natural. Yes, a potent little arcane engine. Very neat.
"So, uh," he hazarded to the others, "are we finishing up here or below ground first? I don't particularly mind either way."
Where we going? That last room in the dungeon? Or that last room somewhere up here the GM mentioned? Also, is everyone okay with Sam taking the Pearl of Power? I ask because Lor-Sinn could use it with another level of Paladin. Also, also - new day, new spell list:
"But wait," Sam joined in, one hand on his chin, "if Pazuzu is lord of all that flies, then surely that wouldn't include tengu. They don't fly. Do they?" He cast an academic glance over to the still suffering Asuka for confirmation. And then realized that this point was as pedantic as it was pointless.
"Er... Never mind. B-but I'm pretty sure I could research some spell that would remove the idol's curse. Although that would probably take some time..." he finished lamely. Remove Curse is unfortunately a lv.4 spell for wizzes.
Know (religion):1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14Never mind, garbage rolls regardless. Again, will go for the take 10 if possible.
Dutiful as always, Sam looked to the strange statuette as a physician might look at a gangrenous limb, eyes concerned and wondering how it might be amputated from the unfortunate tengu.
The luxurious chestnut-brown hair his new gnomish form had afforded Sam was blown back into a great tufted tower, so powerful was the sheer burst of positive energy the paladin blasted throughout the cave chamber. How invigorating! "You've, uh, gotten real good at this healing stuff, huh?" he said with admiration, noting not only this display, but how Lor-Sinn had fixed him up with apparent ease when the decapus had first targeted him. It was very reassuring.
Signe Valland wrote:
"You can see why the rest of my previous comrades didn't make it through alive. I don't remember much of it myself, but I must be lucky to have survived this twice. We have done the world a favor."
"I-I guess so," the wizard agreed, getting back on his feet and then offering the tiefling a hand to do the same. This only resulted in some slight shock at seeing the latter tower over him in short order. Man, being so short felt super weird. Not that the unassuming young man was used to being the tallest guy in the room or anything... "That thing definitely wasn't normal," he went on. "It could probably have, um, cleared much of the castle's original inhabitants with that wand of its alone."
The same wand that now rested in his tiny hand. Samton gave it a reverential look before stuffing the implement into a pocket. His now, he guessed. And on the topic of everything material, he only now noticed the veritable dragon's hoard of valuables the flying horror had amassed in the other end of the chamber. Gold, jewels, weapons, armor and more. He let out an anxious whistle at the sight, not so much in appreciation as at what the collection represented; a whole lot of people had probably died for this stuff. Well, he considered, we have no other real leads. Best get to work looking this over. And so he did.
What makes most sense here? Just a take 10 Spellcraft/Appraise on everything here? Will go for take 20 if the party thinks we have the time. Sam's Spellcraft is +12.
"Uhm... We've have another one of those discs now," Sam, recently transformed back into a human, said, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the cache, going over every part of it. He held up the wooden disc. "Same magic as in the other one, or at least related. I can tell that much." Good news though this was, the young man appeared more taken with another item they'd found. He looked at the wayfinder's intricate machinery with deep appreciation, starry-eyed even, it representing a culmination of both engineering & magic. Heck, it was even related to his passion of cartography. "Aw, this thing is way cool..."
"O-on it!" Sam said again, none of his nervous anxiety leaving him even as the monstrosity's last shrieking breath left it. They still had allies at death's door, after all, no matter the decapus's demise. Turning on his heel and fumbling through his bag of spell components, he fished out a vial of black ichor, a substance not entirely unlike the dark blood flowing from their now fallen foe, as it happened. Dabbing a small blot of the stuff onto a finger, he touched it to the unconscious paladin and invoked his magic. Immediately the mangled flesh began stitching itself back together, not in the instantaneous miracle available to the devout, but more slowly, as if the natural healing process was simply massively sped up. Difficult as the young man found it to even look at the heavily wounded Lor-Sinn, he nevertheless let out a sigh of relief. They had managed to avoid losing anyone. Wow.
Using Infernal Healing on a paladin... Somewhere high above Erastil is looking down on Sam in disapproval. But Lor-Sinn recovers 10 HP over the next minute which, coupled with Signe's earlier CLW, should be juuust enough to reach positive HP again I think.
It was only in that wave of relief that the strained mind registered the flying horror's last words. "Wait... Pazuzu?"
Know (religion):1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
"That Pazuzu?" The demon lord? One of the most infamous of that unholy pantheon? 'Father'? Well, surely that couldn't be right. Frightful as the thought that the group had just dispatched a literal demigod was, the wizard's rational mind protested at this. The decapus couldn't literally be the son of the demon lord, could it? Surely this was just the overly fanciful language of the devoted, or even some delusion of its. Well, regardless of any such parentage, the creature had apparently been some kind of devout follower. Perhaps that accounted for its unnatural power.
"Oh," he said as the still heavily wounded paladin showed some signs of life. "Uh, w-welcome back, Ms Imass." Awkward as the greeting was, Samton was very genuninly glad to have the tiefling back among them. Seeing someone so lively unconscious just felt strange, for one. "Ms Kaijitsu? Is Ms Narukami alright?"
"If someone can strike it hard with a blade, we might take it down!"
"O-on it!" Sam replied anxiously, shock at seeing the tengu joining Lor-Sinn on the cave floor obvious in his voice, in yanking a certain heirloom sword from said floor. Thusly armed, he... promptly passed it to its proper wielder, Ruka.
Even in the commotion of combat the wizard was not so foolish as to even consider jumping the decapus himself. No siree, Samton Verro was just smart enough to know his own strengths, and swinging a weapon was not among them. The party was in quite enough danger as was without him accidentally decapitating someone.
AC is 23 with the +2 bonus from Fighting Defensively.
25 with the Protection from Evil, I think.
Despite being the one yelling out invocations at random, hoping for one of them to work, no one was more surprised than Samton when one arcane utterance struck true and the wand shot out a fiery ray. He was no less surprised when said ray actually hit the decapus. "Yes!" And subsequently very disappointed to see the creature's rubbery hide prove itself partly fire-resistant. "Aw!"
Still, the projectile had had some effect. And the flying horror, albeit no doubt the dominant force in this scuffle, was undeniably looking quite ragged, the accumulated arrows, magic and sword blows taking their toll. This coupled with Signe's swift aid to the downed tiefling had Sam feeling just a bit optimistic. Cautiously so, but still. The previously so supreme decapus actually recoiling and fleeing their onslaught only bolstered this feeling. Now if only they could see this through. They were so close!
Taking a cue from Kajiwara's very impressive acrobatics, a feat the boyish young man couldn't help but think incredibly cool, the wizard rushed ahead. The wand's fire was of limited use, and their foe was now sandwiched between the man and tengu. If he could just aid them, then perhaps this fight was over. Reaching out a gnomish hand to the now much taller Asuka, he tried doing just that.
Moving forward and giving Asuka +2 Dex for the next two rounds, bumping up her attack and AC.
Run? Ruka's suicidal decree rang through the (really rather impressive) hallowed halls of the young man's headspace, to no avail; it did not register. The horrified mind was too occupied trying to take in the utter savagery that felled the stalwart paladin. Lor-Sinn? Ever reliable Lor-Sinn was brought low by this creature? Only now did the gravity of their situation truly set in for the wizard. Even the verities of reality itself seemed optional to the tiefling on most days, but the decapus was apparently more unyielding still. This was bad.
And yet even had he heard the younger Kaijitsu's plea, Samton would have ignored it. Not due to any great bravery or the like. Heavens no. Nor was it any tactical considerations that caused him to instead yank the newly retrieved wand from the floor to point it at the flying horror. In fact, Sam himself would have been unable to voice any particular driving factor for doing so, driven by instinct as he was at the moment. Perhaps, still a child at heart that he was, it was simply deeply ingrained parental instructions now turned muscle memory that kicked in; ethic lessons from his two mentors that he could not defy. Like a child who trusted in their parents, he simply did, without thought. And Misters Parooh and Gandethus had certainly told him never to abandon friends.
He shouted some invocations, testing them, hoping that one of them would work. One did. Two great balls of fire shot out of the wand, despite the spell certainly being an Evocation of sorts, a school of magic not at all his strong suit. Now if only he could just aim.
Don't really expect either of these to hit (rolled damage for the latter) and even so, I just know this thing has fire resistance...
Yes! Samton's shock and horror at feeling his magic actually struggle to even affect the monster quickly turned to elation as, with a great deal of concentration, the spell suddenly took hold. Deflating like the great big rubber balloon that it was, all air left the decapus's body, rendering it unable to speak. And, crucially, unable to use the destructive wand. The wizard nearly leapt for joy. Success! This left it no options beyond... well, none beyond...
Metal plating creaked as jagged teeth latched about the paladin's armor. Right. The darn thing was still perfectly capable of eating them all if denied its magic. Dang it.
Wracking his not inconsiderable brain for how to proceed (and feeling not a little guilty for Lor-Sinn's new bite marks), Sam's was unsure what to do. Just fire some acid darts at it maybe? And this was where the thought struck him: perhaps he could fire something considerably more devastating. He looked around the cave floor. He hadn't been seeing things, had he? The dacapus had definitely dropped its wand, hadn't it? If he could just find it...
5 ft step into the square I think the decapus was standing (flying) next to, and then, assuming the wand's there, grabbing it.
Sam yelped, forgetting his usual honorifics in seeing the young woman fall before the creature's fiery onslaught. The realization that this might very well be it was setting in; that this flying, unusually well armed (in more ways than one) octopus would be the end of them.
Boy, he hoped this next trick of his worked.
Casting Steal Breath on the decapus. If it manages a DC 18 Fort save, then nothing happens, but if not... well, no more wand for one. I checked the rules. Wands totally require one to able to speak. Note how the spell works, GM; the squid can absolutely just move outside the spell's range (35 ft.) to circumvent it, but this is where the dead-end cave might actually be in our favor. Sam's touch AC is still 14.
Bad. This was bad, bad, bad. Anxiety was obvious in the expressive gnome eyes as Sam watched the flying horror evade his spell. Said worry did not diminish in seeing Ruka being barraged with the fiery missiles next. This creature really was in a whole different league to anything they had faced before, belting them with powerful magic only to then retreat in infuriatingly effective hit-and-run strikes. The only reason they were still standing was Lor-Sinn, frankly, he thought as the paladin released a burst of curative magic that momentarily lit up the dark cave. The restorative wave felt good on his fire-blistered skin... wait. Actually, his wounds weren't just lessened, but completely healed. When had that happened? The turmoil of combat had made the wizard forget the burns momentarily, but he was very impressed at the tiefling's power. He'd felt ready for a dirt nap just seconds ago!
"Thanks, Ms Imass!" he said in rushing forward, newly emboldened. Yes, this wasn't over yet! He still had - some - magic to spare, didn't he? Surely there was something to be done? And regardless of such tactical considerations hurriedly brewing in the adroit mind, there was no way he was retreating just as he saw the younger Kaijitsu rush forward. Like so many other simple creatures, Samton was a loyal beast.
Now if only the stumpy legs could carry him further, he thought, touching a hand to Kajiwara and empowering the man in charging ahead.
Wis is practically everything to Kajiwara, right? Giving him +2 Wis for the next two rounds, and moving forward. Also, GM, this wand wouldn't happen to be made of metal, would it? Asking knowing full well that most wands aren't. Sam's touch AC is 14 right now.
Samton the gnome had to raise a hand to shield his newly enlarged and somewhat more sensitive eyes as more bright fiery rays rained down onto the group, this time engulfing Asuka. This wasn't tenable, he thought in seeing the tengu's scorched plumage; this decapus was far more dangerous than anticipated. Chiefly so through the use of that wand, and it was with this in mind that the wizard did the only thing he could think of to neutralize said implement.
Moving to reestalish line of sight and then casting Grease on the wand itself. DC 15 Reflex to not drop it. Also applies should this creature try to pick it up again.
Oh boy. Things were bad when being scoured by magical fire counted as a partial success, Sam had to admit. As his new gnome hide erupted into fire-red blisters, he couldn't help but cry out in pain just as his inquisitive mind cried out for an answer to what had just happened. Decapuses couldn't shoot rays of fire! Not even this one, he thought; had that been a wand he'd spied precariously held in one tentacle? Well, that was interesting. And he'd been so sure he'd scurried away from the darn creature in order to draw it out, breaking their line of sight, but now it was apparently hunkered down further in the cave. Great.
But these considerations would have to wait. "H-hey, I'll be fine, Ms Imass," the young man said, quite touched by the paladin's apparent concern. "Just see if you can shoot that dumb balloon down, yeah? Actually..."
He touched a tiny finger to the tiefling's armor, sending an empowering surge through it. Maybe this would help in exactly that. And maybe he shouldn't move too much, he considered in feeling the burnt paper his skin had transformed into crack in reaching out. Wow, burns hurt.
Giving Lor-Sinn +2 Dex for the next two rounds and moving again.
Twitchy reflexes once again serving him well, Samton whirled to face the tentacled horror speeding its way towards them on leathery wings. Huh. Wings. The darn thing was flying. This, he hadn't expected. To his knowledge, decapuses could not fly, and so he had to assume - with some trepidation - that the comfortably known threat they had been ready to fight was actually a somewhat more disagreeable unknown. Some sort of species offshoot? The wizard had no way of knowing, but what he did know was that the tactic he had hoped to use - namely to conjure enough slick grease to neuter a wall-crawling decapus - was now null and void.
This led naturally enough to a fair question: what was he to do? The young man's edgy nerves afforded him this brief window of opportunity to catch the monster off-guard, even before his allies, but he simply wasn't the most offensively oriented of mages. None of his magic could harm this creature directly. Oh, vixenish vexation, and it had free reign to descend onto his friends the very next second! If only he could at least distract it for a moment, just until they got their bearings...
GM Shadowlord wrote:
The decapus favors humanoid flesh over all other food; most are quite fond of gnome flesh in particular. This creature has an enormous appetite that often...
And just like that he realized distracting it could very well be within his power. Acting at the speed of thought, and crucially before his better sense could screech at him not to, Sam recited an incantation culminating in the most dramatic. Sam the human village boy was gone. Enter Sam the gnome.
"Hey, uggo!" the 3 ft. wisp of a youngling Samton had transformed into yelped at the horrid beast. "Betcha can't catch me!" The bright pink tongue that followed, tauntingly, was brief in its visit, as the thoroughly terrified gnome immediately turned and scurried away as fast as his stunted legs allowed.
My spell list is such garbage. Using Alter Self to turn into a gnome and hopefully avoiding having this thing go for someone else's flat-footed AC and starting some airborne grappling nonsense. Hoping that it will target Sam's 18 AC instead. And GM, should the decapus hit me and grapple me, I use Liberating Command as an immediate action.
"I mean, think about it, Ms Imass," Sam replied to the good-natured paladin, absently twirling a finger and conjuring translucent bands of force to form an armor about his meager frame in preparation for entering what he was convinced was the beast's lair. "Has Erastil ever spoken to you?"
Too late he realized that the query sounded too much like a challenge, even a reproach, and immediately scrambled to clarify. "W-which is to say, of course he has! Like, spiritually and... stuff. But not in the sense of directly addressing you like this, right? Disembodied voice and all? A-and you're a holy warrior of his! The gods don't usually interpose themselves so openly in mortal affairs. Do they?"
The young man ruffled his own hair awkwardly. He'd read that the gods typically only acted through their mortal agents on the Material Plane for fear of engendering a divine arms race if every power simply did whatever it wanted. But then what did he know, really? While he respected the higher powers and attended church services back home in Sandpoint, Samton practically lived his life as an atheist. Magic was what he put his faith in. It was so much more tangible, reliable, even independent than faith, after all. Why bargain for borrowed power when you could make your own? Why, it was almost belittling...
He stopped himself. Where were these thoughts coming from? This wasn't what he really believed. Was it? No, of course not! He had nothing but respect for goodly Lor-Sinn and the sacrifices every paladin made. Yes. And besides, he was a massive hypocrite, he chided himself. It hadn't been so long ago that he had reached out to an otherworldly entity himself in desperation. It was the entire reason behind his supposed talent. Scoffing at those with faith? Ludicrous. He was little but an inept fraud.
But none of this shook his conviction that something dangerous lay ahead, and so insisted on providing some protection to those who offered to enter first.
Casting Mage Armor on Sam, and Protection from Evil on both Asuka and Kajiwara assuming they walk ahead first. +2 AC and saves for four minutes, you two.
Beyond being startled terribly at the sudden disembodied voice, young Sam appeared cautiously skeptical as what supposed to be the Lady of Graves herself deigned to delve some dank cave in order to address them. Was this right? Did the gods, any god, reach into the mortal world so directly under any but the direst of circumstances? Or was there a more likely explanation at hand?
"Uh, gang?" he whispered insistently. "Could this not be the, um, decapus Ms Valland described? You know, that thing that lures prey in by mimicking voices?"
Please ignore the post if Sense Motive really determines our characters' reactions here, but a mysterious voice claiming to be a straight up god coming from what we know to be the lair of a monster we just learned is able and eager to mimic voices? I'm all for the interweaving of mechanics and storytelling in these games, in fact I relish it, but surely even the most Wis deprived of PCs would smell something off here?
Kajiwara Shogahiro wrote:
Kajiwara frowns. "Sam, those paintings of 4-wigned humanoids - can you tell what creature they are?"
"W-well, I can take a look..." the wizard said in approaching the strange drawings.
"Huh. Almost sounds like a, uh... whatchamacallit? A decapus?"
Samton scratched at his brown hair in thinking. It was a bit difficult to parse naked fact from embellished detail in Signe's description of the beast, bards and storytellers being so fanciful in their narration. Still, he wasn't sure what else it could be. "A decapus is a sort of ten-armed octopus-like monstrosity," he explained to whomever would listen. "Get it? 'Cause 'octo' means, uh, eight? And octopuses have eight arms, I mean, um, tentacles? A-and 'octo-' is a, uh, numeral prefix meaning eight? From, like, Ancient Azlanti? I think? And so... so this octopus-like monster gets called decapus. 'Cause it has ten ar... tentacles. And 'deca-' is another prefix meaning ten. I think. From Azlanti. So 'octopus' turns into 'decapus'. It's, uh... clever."
Never mind. Whatever the faults of bards and storytellers, they were a heck of a lot better at explaining things than him. "A-anyway, they're nothing like any mere squid," the wizard went on, trying to salvage his little lecture. "They live on land, for one. Supposedly great climbers; trees, cave ceilings - they like ambushing prey like that. They're also pretty intelligent. Can talk and everything, though they typically don't speak our Common. Can even use some magic, mostly illusions. S-so be aware if you see something out of place. Oh yeah, they can't just talk, they're said to be really good at mimicking voices too. Real sneaky like that. I think they use that to lure people."
He looked to the Ulfen apologetically. "Right. Decapuses... They, um, eat people. C-condolences for your friends."
"I used to think castles were cool. They're too big, is what they are,"
"Oh, I dunno," Sam replied absentmindedly, almost automatically given how his mind was a million miles away. "I'm quite appreciating the view."
Sitting cross-legged in an oversized windowsill amidst a heap of paper, maps, spanners, planimeters and more obscure tools, the cartographer was utilizing the high vantage point to better calculate points of reference in the surrounding area for his own map. And technically he was 3.17 miles away, thank you very much, in surveying a helpfully funny shaped hillock through a small monocular. Why waste the opportunity? Wasn't like they were accomplishing much else.
Almost as soon as they were spoken, Samton regretted the words. He didn't want to to come off as indifferent or uncaring of the entire reason they were here: to help Ameiko. He especially didn't want to give this impression in front of Ruka, who he knew was both worried sick about her sister and very frustrated at their failure to find any leads, visibly so. It was just that he was starting to harbor a fear he didn't dare voice: namely that the group's assumption of something within Brinewall Castle being responsible for the elder Kaijitsu's condition (a reasonable enough supposition given that there was bugger all else in the region) was simply wrong. Fretful by nature, he feared that not only were they wasting their time, but that it was already too late.
For all these reasons and more, hearing Signe describe a secret area in the castle was very intriguing indeed. "Y-yeah," he agreed. "We should definitely go."
The news of some sort of monstrosity awaiting them there was less welcome, of course. Listening intently to the Ulfen's description of the creature, he wondered whether he'd read of something similar before.
Take 10s on all the Knowledge skills at Signe's description of the beasty? Sam's monster IDing skills are all at 10+.
"Imma fine..." the wizard replied to the giant Ruka's concern, still mumbling into the floor he couldn't quite envisage rising from just yet. "Just hurts when I... breathe." Man, getting shot in the lung sucked. Literally.
Except then it suddenly didn't. With Lor-Sinn lighting up as a beacon in channeling the awesome power of the Positive Energy Plane into this one innocuous chamber of the castle, Sam immediately felt every wound accumulated on their trek vanish like shadow before so much light. Zaiobe's arrow gave a clatter in falling to the floor as rapidly healing flesh simply pushed it out. "Aw nice," he said appreciatively, voice much stronger, and jumped to his feet. "Thanks, Ms Imass."
As for the puzzlement on the harpy's motives, Samton had little to add. Nothing but that his punctilious little mind couldn't help but remark on. "Technically not a demon," he remarked to Signe on the tiefling's thorough summary, "but a planar-native evil spirit given flesh almo..." He stopped himself. He really needed to learn to restrain his supposed enlightenment to where it was actually helpful. This constant rectifying was just kinda rude. "N-never mind. That covers it all, yeah."
All that said, the young man was very disappointed at Zaiobe's betrayal. And with himself for not seeing it coming, having practically acted as her liaison to the group. He guessed... he'd just have to be more careful in the future. No more trusting monsters. "So, uh," he said in distracting himself from the guilt, "where to from here? Gotta admit, I'm sorta running out of steam myself. Don't have much left in the way of magic."
It felt bad admitting it, especially given that their quest to restore Ameiko was back at square one with Kikonu apparently not being behind whatever ailed her, but his rational mind knew it had to be said; none of them could save her if they ran themselves ragged and died in the process themselves.
Was it possible to be roused from the dead by sheer foul language? Samton wouldn't have thought so, and yet that was all his newly revivified and thoroughly confused mind could conclude as he woke up one cheek squashed against the stone floor. Sensitive ears still burning, he threw a swimming gaze around. Well, he was alive. This was good. But so was Zaiobe, which was less good. Another errant arrow landed inches from his nose and he jumped. No, not good at all. It was only when Ruka's foot came into his view in evading the harpy's missiles that inspiration struck him, however.
Reaching for his spell pouch, lying on the floor where he'd dropped it, he began intoning the last bit of magic he could manage for the day. Then he brushed the woman's heel.
"Give her hell, Ms Kaijitsu..." the wizard mumbled as Ruka suddenly grew to reach the room's ceiling, and Zaiobe with it.
Wonderful as books were ('boy, are they!'), Samton had joined the caravan largely out of a desire to learn from experience. There was so much reading couldn't teach one - or so he was told - that only lived experience could impart. Theory, they said, was only worth what you could practice. Well, the young man now conceded in looking at the feathered shaft sticking out of his chest, books certainly couldn't teach you the feeling of your lung collapsing around an arrowhead, but this was an awfully harsh lesson.
His legs cruelly deciding not to support him anymore, the wizard collapsed to the floor. There he was mostly occupied with trying - and failing - to breathe before the rapidly expanding darkness before his eyes consumed him. And yet where the body was failing, the mind soldiered on. And being an awfully adroit mind, it lingered on the image of the harpy as she had shot him. Betrayal. That was what her silent stare had conveyed. Betrayal. Docile creature that he was, this thought lit a fire in the dying village boy. It was an outrage born of the only thing that could truly insult such a proponent of rationalism: a logical fallacy. The harpy was a hypocrite.
Hoping against hope that some vestige of their telepathic link remained, Sam began thinking, hard, even as his vision faded. He needed her to know. He needed her to see.
You were betrayed. Only to yourself betray... he voiced within his own fleeting mind. The harpy had so hated the oni for his betrayal of her. And yet as soon as she rejoined the very group she had sent out to avenge her, she had betrayed them. It was surely the height of hypocrisy, and, as Lor-Sinn voiced above the wizard - though he could no longer hear - she was at least as bad as her ex-lover. You suck, Ms Zaiobe.
There. Dying was a pretty confusing experience, but at least that was one wrong righted in the world. Or was it? Samton couldn't tell anymore. His head couldn't manage thought anymore. He really hoped he wasn't really dying. He didn't want to make Parooh and Gandethus back home sad. And with that it was lights out, and he slipped into oblivion.
Although that strange warmth right there at the end was quite nice. And fiddles were pretty cool, he guessed.
Ooh, still at -1 unfortunately. Not dying though, so that's good.
Huh. Apparently seeing the harpy hadn't been such a good idea after all. Samton was properly distraught at the sudden and unprovoked attack from what he had thought to be the group's one ally in this madhouse of a castle. Even as the flying form of the woman descended onto them, his astonished mind demanding to know why, an unpleasant sensation settled within the pit of his belly. It wasn't a feeling familiar to the young man, inexperienced in the ways of the world as he was. But he recognized the heavy lead eroding his stomach lining quickly enough: it was betrayal. And betrayal, as he learned, sucked.
"M-Ms Zaiobe, why?! Kikonu is dead, you're not in any danger from him, so why would you...?"
Fleet thoughts quick to provide an answer, however unpleasant, Sam had to wonder: had this all been a ploy? Had the harpy merely played them, lied to him, in an effort to remove the oni so that she might take his position as master of Brinewall? This was... despicable! And really, really disheartening. It wasn't nice seeing evil where you had expected decency.
Maybe no monsters could be trusted? And with that new shard of black cynicism embedding itself into his pink heart, Samton grabbed another vial of purging fire and flung it.
"Well..." Sam ventured cautiously, seeing as everyone seemed in agreement to move on, new addition included. "In that case, should we, uh, maybe just ask Ms Zaiobe?"
The mute harpy hadn't been forgotten by the wizard. "She promised to help us find whatever we're searching for if we killed Kikonu. Would be a big help in navigating this place. And Ms Kaijitsu did mention her - or, er, someone like her - in her delirium." He looked to Ruka. "Other Ms Kaijitsu, sorry. 'Beware the cuckolded cuckoo. It is in his shattered silent love you should seek aid.' Was that it?"
Level 4, let's see.
The stat boost goes to Int (surprise, surprise), making for an even 20.
7 skills points plus 3 retroactive points go spattered into the knowledge skills pretty willy-nilly.
+1 to BAB, Will, and 6 more HP.
And then there are the two new spells. So many spells to consider. So many spells... Think I'm keeping with the transmutation theme and grabbing Steal Breath ('cause Sam is just that charming) and Cat's Grace. The latter is just another nice buff good for either Asuka or Lor-Sinn, while the former just wrecks opposing casters hard. Oh, and the Healing patron grants Sam Lesser Restoration too, pretty much a prerequisite for adventuring. So that's nice.
Updated the crunch, but keeping my status line as is until the party actually rest.
"Thank you for rescuing me - all of you. I suppose I am now in your debt. Please, may I have the names of my liberators?"
Huh. We have the same initials.
The young wizard's able intellect leapt at this as well as a dozen other innocuous details about the Ulfen woman, major and small, assessing her faster than his conscious mind allowed. While not inclined to immediately trust a perfect stranger, much like Ruka - especially not one found in a castle evidently occupied by every flavor of ghost and ghoulie known to man - he was an unfailingly polite creature. Masters Parooh and Gandethus had raised their ward right. Besides, he rather doubted she was some manner of predatory faceless stalker or something, like the one the group had tangled with back in Brinestump Marsh. Locking a weaponless shapechanger up hoping for a band of heroes to wander down into the dungeons, freeing it, and then allying with it? That'd be a needlessly convoluted scheme.
For these reasons and more Samton gave the bard a deferential, albeit awkward, little nod, and his name. "N-nice to meet you, Ms Valland. I'm uh, Sam. Samton Verro, that is. I'm..." 'Tale-Keeper of the Lightning Bear tribe, Enchanter of Men, Composer of Epics.' This Signe had some grand descriptions by which to introduce herself and Sam felt that one gesture obliged another in return, but the humble village boy wasn't exactly overburdened with accomplishments. "I-I'm a cartographer. In training."
Yeah, didn't exactly sound that impressive by comparison. "We're uh, all with a caravan. From Sandpoint," he hastily added, brushing over his feelings of ineptitude, though without mentioning a word of Ameiko and the curse that had befallen her; the younger's Kaijitsu's omission of the same had not escaped him.
Curiosity perked up his demure self at the mention of a secretive key, however. "A key, you say?" Asuka and Lor-Sinn might have been correct in their fanciful pontification then. Maybe the wooden disk really did open some vault or another. Or would, if they just found more of them. How exciting! Ooh, would Signe maybe help him with his Ulfen? He'd been trying to learn for some time now. Language was exciting too.
Alchemist's Fire. Neat! The young man really should know better, but boyish excitement superseded sense in this instance as he studied one of the hefty flasks the group had just come across in walking. His masters would be very disappointed in him should he trip over an errant rock and blow himself up. Though possessing no real expertise in the field, Sam found all things alchemical fascinating, strange off-branch of the arcane as they were. He wondered if he could ever...
GM ShadowLord wrote:
"LOUD OGRE NONSESNE!"
Nope, that would have to wait. The towering mass of muscle and pale flesh rather demanded their attention. And the ogre was pretty concerning too. Samton stopped in his tracks, nearly dropping the fire bomb, as the party wandered headfirst into what appeared to be some sort of jail cell housing an unusual pair. 'Our' lucky day? his spooked mind nevertheless managed to wonder at the apparent prisoner's words. Lady, you're the one in the cage.
But faced with a giant who apparently intended to put them all in said cage - sure to be an uncomfortable fit - he simply looked to the flask, gave a shrug, and chucked the darn thing.
The fiery explosion that followed lit up the dungeon chamber in every shade of red and orange. Large as he was, the ogre made for a big pyre too. Had it been his imagination, or had Sam seen the projectile... carried slightly through the air before smashing onto the giant, as if buoyed by the strange woman's song? Weird. Pretty good song, though.
The ogre takes another d6 of fire damage on its turn.
Like an official governing a public execution, his headsman at his side - this was how young Sam felt standing over the now kneeling oni with his acid vial, and he didn't particularly like the feeling. The role of headsman was of course played by Ruka, whom he let speak to the condemned uninterrupted. She was, after all, not just the executioner, but also the injured party. This was her show; he was, as always, merely a supporting actor.
Which suited him just fine, uncomfortable as he was with the proceedings despite firmly believing - nay, knowing - that the death of the fiend was nothing if not a net good for the world at large. And if the woman got some small peace in dispatching him, so much the better. The wizard was just happy to help. It was with this mindset that he merely looked to Ruka, his simple face solemn and frank, silently voicing 'Ready when you are'. When the moment came, they acted in tandem. Even as she raised her sword, the flask held in the outstretched hand lit up like a lantern and a toxic-green light flashed from it, projecting onto the waiting oni. A groan escaped it as the glare manifested into droplets of acidic vapor, scouring its fiendish hide. It was done. Its regenerative capabilities were null and void, for now. Sam dropped his hand. And with it the blade followed. He closed his eyes.
Well. Being part of an execution was not what the village boy had anticipated in leaving Sandpoint for his grand adventure. Still, he had few regrets in doing so. If anyone could be said to deserve death, always a slippery slope of moral absolutes as his masters had taught him, it was a mass-murdering fiend. This was what he hoped he managed to communicate to the younger Kaijitsu in simply nodding to her as they all stood over the now very dead Kikonu. He didn't even bother actually saying anything. He knew he'd just mess it up.
But the adroit mind inside the quiet youth was far from silent. Oh, no - it was furiously trying to piece together whatever the heck the oni had been on about. So something called the Five Storms had tried to wholesale eradicate the entire Kaijitsu family - who may or may not also be known as the Amatatsu (whatever that means)? This was getting complicated, not to mention very strange. This in turn was perhaps why the overworked intellect latched onto what was more familiar and comforting to it: magic.
Spellcraft:1d20 + 10 ⇒ (7) + 10 = 17
"Uhm," Samton started before coughing to clear his throat in picking up the deceased's sickle-like weapon. "This thing - is this was they call a kusarigama? - it's enchanted if anyone knows how to use it. Sturdier and more accurate than a normal one of its kind." He looked to Kajiwara, ostensibly his language teacher. "Kusarigama. Am I pronouncing that right?"
The wooden disk, however; that was considerably more intriguing in its unfamiliarity. A transmutation aura. His specialty. "Uh, the, uh," he said hesitatingly in watching Asuka chew on it. "The disk is magic too, though I'm not sure what it's for."
"How could I be a traitor when I never was allied with you in the first place!"
Yeah, Samton concurred, nodding very seriously whilst trying - and mostly failing - to appear more intimidating than his utterly pedestrian self really was. Also, you're not actually a tengu, buddy. You're just a weird fiend who kinda looks like one. Wait, were the tengus named after his kind or something like that? He had no idea and decided he needed to continue studying his Minkaian.
More pressingly, however, what was Kikonu going on about? Five Storms? Amatatsu? And had he really just said that he... killed Ruka's grandfather? The young wizard looked to her in sympathy. That probably hadn't been the most sensible admission when you had said granddaughter's sword at your throat. He wouldn't judge if she decided to kill him a few more times, considering. Wasn't like he would stay dead anyway.
But seriously, he considered as Lor-Sinn simply asked the question, what was a Five Storms? What was an Amatatsu? Not inclined to trust a word from the oni, Sam tried to think whether he had ever encountered either term in his readings.
Know (history), on the Five Storms:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10We shall be failures together, Kajiwara. Where's that bard?
Know (history), on the Amatatsu:1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
"Mass murderer and literal incarnation of evil?" he responded to Kajiwara's assessment. "Yeah, I'm, uh, not opposed."
It was a strange thing to say, assenting to someone's death, especially to the village boy who had barely hurt a fly before. Well, more often than not, to be fair; they flocked one's lantern and disturbed night-time reading. But the fiend was very literally that: a fiend. The world was only improved by his death, and empirically so. "You hear that, oni?" he asked the prone monster and jostled his bottle of acid. "You should know we have the means to kill you, permanently. So if you have anything more to say, this is the time."
Huh. He was weirdly proud of managing to say that without stuttering.
EDIT:
Know (geography):1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15A geography check on Minkai wouldn't help, would it, considering these are all Tian concepts?
Samton winced as the tengu's blow nearly bisected the already tremendously wounded oni, blood spurting out in fine archs from exposed arteries. He wasn't exactly accustomed to violence such as this, hacking away at what should already be a very dead cadaver in any sane world. But he took heart in knowing that despite the gruesome wounds, despite looking like the aftermath of a sword-swallowing performance gone terribly wrong, Kikonu literally could not die. Not yet. The fiend was hardier than any mortal. And besides - it was, after all, a fiend. A literal incarnation of evil. It was difficult to feel much sympathy for him, especially having now seen enough hints at what had happened at this castle.
"Uh, yeah," he answered Ruka when she opened her pack. "His wounds need to be scoured, either with fire or acid. That'll stop them from healing." On that note the wizard hurried closer, holding his own flask of acid high. "As for disappearing on us... uh, yeah, I think he can assuming his magic is innate, which I think it is. He doesn't necessarily have to say any incantation or sign any symbols like with normal magic, you see. Well, normal is a misnomer here, as... no, never mind."
Sam stopped himself before he could go on any tangents. His nervous mind apparently had a tendency to wander. "B-but it should still be fine! He should have to concentrate, like really hard, to use his magic. You guys caught him in it earlier. He won't get the chance to use it again. Rope wouldn't hurt, though." He added this last at seeing the woman trussing the oni together like a roast.
Holding his vial over a still unconscious Kikonu, Samton waited for him to come to again. Finally they would be able to help Ameiko.
A muted green gleam threatened to cut through the oppressive gloom of the underground chamber, originating from the viridian corona enveloping the young wizard's outstretched hand. The shining acid vial bubbled hotly in Samton's grasp, the magic he held within it yearning to be let free, but he remained steady. The fight had reached a definite breakthrough now in everyone actually being able to engage the oni, but he decided on caution and held the, admittedly very minor, spell at the ready. All could still be for naught if Kikonu, against the odds, managed to teleport himself away again. And so Sam just stood ready, hoping to disrupt any magic from the fiend.
Yes, that was the problem, wasn't it? Kikonu's disappearing act. Cowardly as it was, the tactic had proven effective at whittling down the group's resources and stamina. And there was still a whole lot of castle they had yet to see, with more traps, haunts and minions which the oni could lead them into on their wild goose chase, as he had done. It was damnably frustrating. And worryingly efficient. Sam mulled on this even as he tried not gagging on the troglodytes' stench.
Three exits. The dungeon chamber had three exits. If they could just block these, then... No, never mind. Even invisible the oni could not walk straight through any of them should, say, Lor-Sinn, Kajiwara and himself block the three doorways. But the wizard was fairly sure the fiend possessed some means of teleportation, which would bypass any such measure altogether. Best to do as the more experienced caravan guard had meant to: try to stop him from using his magic altogether. An arrow to the chest or a blade in the gut in the moment of casting had a way of rather distracting a magic user. On that note, Ruka actually managing to get into melee with Kikonu represented huge progress. Yes, this time they would stop him.
Carried by this positive determination, Samton traipsed further into the room, hopping over cave-dweller corpses and brushing a finger along Asuka's feathers in the process. The tengu immediately felt her considerable dexterity increase further.
Just moving a bit and giving Asuka +2 Dex for her round.
Ruka, I think you just managed that one failed Fort save with the +2 from PfE.
Fort save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10 Fort save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 Fort save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 Fort save:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Galloping goblins and roving rakshasas, what was that stench?! Nothing more than the dank oils excreted from the cave dwellers' hides coupled with decaying bits of molted skin Sam realized, though knowing so didn't make the smell any less unpleasant as he instinctively clutched his nose and gagged. Thank the stars that his bugbear shape had run out. Had he still possessed that much keener snout, the stink would probably have been knocked him cold!
Still, awful as the reek was, it was just something the group would have to deal with, himself included, so with this mindset Samton soldiered on, walking up to Lor-Sinn and touching a finger to the paladin's armored shoulder.
Moving further in and giving Lor-Sinn +2 Dex for the next round.
"Y-yeah, Ms Lor-Sinn. You're right. Uh, sure is a s-sad excuse for a fiend, huh?"
Odd as the sudden question was, especially in the face of a demon-led horde of walking lizards, Sam's tone in asking it was even weirder, shaky with an awkwardness and uncertainty unlike that of his more self-deprecating moments. Those who had traveled with him found more to ponder in his stance, it being rank and wide-legged, thin chest thrust out so far you'd think a charging rhino was attached to his nipples. He looked like a parody of some far more daring and confident youth than himself, his obvious discomfort in this role only making it all the more clumsy. What was he playing at? There was really only one conclusion: Sam was acting.
Or trying to anyway.
"Honestly, who ever heard of a t-true-blooded fiend running away from his enemies? And twice too! Now we find him in the basement, hiding in the dark like, uh, like a kid pulling his blanket over his head? With an extra security blanky in the form of a bunch of smelly henchmen? J-just sad!"
Awkward as he felt in the terribly unconvincing pantomime, the wizard would be damned if he'd let the oni run away yet again. So with this in mind he tried the only gambit he could think of in forcing Kikonu to fight them: provoking him. Now he just wish he was a better actor. The stage was clearly not for the self-conscious young man. He'd actually been trying to emulate Asuka's daring conviction, but the tengu was obviously better at this than him. So much so that he wasn't entirely convinced that she was acting in her more boisterous moments.
"Uh, here, Ms Kaijitsu," he went on in twirling his hand through an incantation and then touching it to her. "It's not like you're going to need it in fighting this... poltroon, but have this spell anyway."
Ruka was immediately shielded in a glittering haze, and Samton took heart in that even if his psychological ploy failed, his magic could at least help some.
Casting Protection from Evil on Ruka, given how the initiative wound out (guessing that Asuka will already be in the fray when my turn comes up in the order). +2 to AC and to all saves.
"There's the courtyard with the wrestling creatures. Sam, any idea what those were?"
Know (nature? local?):1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10
Dunno. Probably not.
"C-couldn't tell you for sure, no. Sorry," the young wizard replied sheepishly, feeling awkward, even ashamed, at not being able to fulfill the one role within the group he usually managed with some consistency, that being furnishing them with some encyclopedic knowledge. "Almost looked like some sort of giants, but I can't say so with any confidence."
Still stewing in his own inferiority, Sam did still nod to the younger Kaijitsu's sentiment about the castle. "The place is a grindstone, yeah. Slowly wearing us down. Ms Imass, are you sure you're alright?" He looked to the tiefling's bloodied thigh with some concern. "That sword, uh, looked like it went in pretty deep."
If everyone's confident we can handle another fight, let's go downstairs, sure. Samton takes the poison vials on the way out; he's curious. How many of them are there?
Well, that escalated into violence awfully quick! Was this just in a quickling's nature, jumping to extremes at a drop of the proverbial hat? Samton didn't know, but he did know that he didn't fancy shooting at the elusive fey with his allies in the fray. With this in mind he instead reached over to Ruka at his side, gifting the young woman just a bit of the strength she had lost fighting the wight.
Giving Ruka +2 Str for the round, counteracting the negative level and hopefully adding a bit of damage.
"Uh, don't suppose you two have those cold iron arrows from earlier on hand, do you?" the clearly troubled young man whispered as surreptitiously as he could manage to Lor-Sinn and Kajiwara upon entering the strange room. "Fey," he offered by way of explanation. "Quickling, I think. Very speedy."
While the elf-like creatures were known for mischief at best and slaughter at worst, Samton didn't want to assume too much immediately upon encountering one such. Zaiobe the harpy had turned out to be perfectly civil after all. Still, no harm in being prepared. The wizard was so very careful by nature. And the somewhat macabre room itself didn't exactly reassure him either.
"Hi there," he offered, his flimsy nerves nevertheless not allowing the boy raised by misters Parooh and Gandethus to forget his manners. "This is some nice, uhm, stuffed... stuff you got here."
"Ooh. Neat." Fresh from tussling with the giant insect, Samton evidently found something to pique his interest in the one silk clad arrow the party came across. "Check this out," he said, boyish face carrying every sign of wizardly - or nerdy - amusement. Flicking the arrowhead with one finger, he transferred the minutest amount of magic power into it. The results were almost explosive. The tip of the arrow immediately burst into surprisingly aggressive flames, burning bright and clear. The old adage of the strongest flame burning out the quickest holding true, however, it petered out just as quickly. And yet the arrow looked no worse for wear, its smooth shaft not even marred by soot.
"It's enchanted," Sam explained. "It will burn even stronger when fired. Ms Imass, Mr Shogahiro? Best for either of you to take it, right?" He held out the arrow.
Secret door first? Seems an unwritten rule of these games to leave the double doors for last. Those are always trouble.
"We can agree not to tell Ms Cotton about this one, right?" a thoroughly disturbed Samton asked over the scuttling of the giant insect and the rushing water it was displacing. "'Cause I don't know what this thing is, but I do know I don't fancy eating it tonight."
Actually, this was rather getting ahead of oneself, the young wizard acknowledged. All that mattered for now was making sure the giant pest didn't eat them. And while he was reconsidering his own words, did he know what the beast was?
Know (nature):1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14
Whatever it was, he was fairly sure it wouldn't much enjoy acid being spattered in its hideous face. So hoping that it could be scared off without causing anyone any harm, Sam aimed his vial and shot a toxic green dart from it. Hm. Come to think on it, he didn't want to sound ungrateful for Poppy's cooking. Sigh. Maybe one of the legs wouldn't be too bad grilled...
