Then down you go, into the dark mouth of whatever ancient mistake waits to be rediscovered. You've all shown… let’s call it bravery, though some might say it’s just a stubborn refusal to recognize doom. Still, if anyone is going to stir the ashes of forgotten horrors and walk out breathing, it’s likely you.
He turns to Alvarius specifically.
"And you—your presence is... notable. Few can rattle so ominously down a hallway and still contribute so little tactically. But perhaps your charm lies in being already halfway to whatever grim fate lies below. One foot in the grave, as they say, and the rest... well, we’ll see soon enough.
He speaks to the rest of the group again.
"Go with purpose. We’ll be here, keeping what lies above from joining you below. Gods willing—or not—we hope to see most of you return, safe and sound, or at least mostly intact."
Grundle scuttles up the stairs, spots the demons and tries to hasten the death the creature so desires.
Demon... I see the swagger in your form, the heat of your breath, the arrogance etched into every cruel line of your being. But beneath all that—there is fear. Ancient, buried deep. You try to forget it, but it has never forgotten you.
You fear the silence. The moment when the screams stop, when the fires dim, and you are left alone with nothing—no blood, no conquest, no one to witness your power. Only stillness. Only the cold, eternal quiet. You fear being forgotten. You fear being nothing.
Look now. Feel it settle around you—the silence growing louder, swallowing every sound. Your claws touch only air. Your shadow fades. There is no audience. No adversary. No self.
This is your end. Not in battle. Not in glory. But in stillness, where even the gods no longer bother to remember your name.
So the majordomo was under a spell—how surprising, and yet... how utterly expected. We recoil at the idea of enchantment, but is it not merely a crude metaphor for what we all do, constantly? We persuade, we coerce, we withhold affection or approval, all in the service of bending others toward our designs. Magic only makes visible what is already deeply human.
If the master used a spell to command loyalty, was it so different from the promises and threats that govern every household, every nation? Perhaps the only real crime is being too transparent in one’s manipulations.
Grundle wanders off to talk to Gatewalker Vaxtervin once more.
Diplomacy:1d20 + 15 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 15 + 4 = 20
As Grundle opens his mouth to speak, an unnaturally loud sound echoes screams from his undercarriage.
"It must be something I ate. Excuse me. I need to go investigate whether those winds brought with them any unexpected passengers."
Grundle is surprisingly resilient to the spiritual force in spite of his tiny old weird body.
"Something about this horned giant silver ferret with moth wings is...unusual."
Occultism:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (6) + 13 = 19
+2 if the following is applicable:
When you become aware of a magical effect or see a spell being cast, you can immediately determine if it twists minds (with the mental trait), fights against fortune (with the fortune or misfortune trait), or reveals secrets (with the detection, prediction, revelation, or scrying traits). At the GM’s discretion, similar effects can also fall into these categories. When you Identify Magic or Recall Knowledge to learn more about these effects, you can always use Occultism without penalty and gain a +2 circumstance bonus.
He then attempts to haunt the haunt.
"As the air quivers with your presence, Enaaku, I name you as you are known in the forgotten tongues, in the whispers of the void: Zarrek-Thar, the Veiled Hunger, whose shadow devours the moonlight. By the scrolls of Ashen Khalith, you are called the Warden of Splintered Realms, whose wings carry the dust of forgotten eons. I have read of your dominion in the tomes of Karesh Dhu, where the ink bleeds the color of despair and speaks of the blackened fields of Ekranoth, where time itself fractures beneath your tread.
You are the Herald of the Pallid Spiral, the Sower of Discord Among the Stars. Yours is the breath that chills the hearts of dreamers, the horned scourge whose path leaves even the immortal undone. I name the Silent Hive of Krythian Hollow, your birthplace, a realm of ceaseless whispers where the very soil writhes with torment. I have glimpsed your kind in the cursed reflections of the Lamented Lake, where reality bends to the will of your kin, and all who gaze upon it are lost.
Enaaku, creature of dread and majesty, know that I have seen your end prophesied in the Hymns of Shattered Light. The silver of your form tarnishes, the wings that defy gravity will falter, and the worlds you haunt will turn against you. You are not eternal. Your power wanes as all do who clutch the essence of the void too tightly. Flee now, or face the tide of inevitability, for even gods meet their reckoning in time."
Occultism:1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
Disturbing Knowledge:
You utter a litany of dreadful names, prophecies, and descriptions of realms beyond mortal comprehension, drawn from your study of forbidden tomes and scrolls. Even those who don’t understand your language are unsettled by these dire secrets. Attempt an Occultism check and compare the result to the Will DC of an enemy within 30 feet, or to the Will DCs of any number of enemies within 30 feet if you are legendary in Occultism. Those creatures are temporarily immune for 24 hours.
Critical Success The target becomes confused for 1 round and frightened 1.
Success The target becomes frightened 1.
Failure The target is unaffected.
Critical Failure You get overly caught up in your own words and become frightened 1.
"This creature, a grotesque lord of filth and decay, embodies the corruption that has seeped into this forsaken place over centuries. Its form is both a testament to resilience and a manifestation of the horrors that thrive in the shadows.
"Observe its vine-like appendages—sluggish, unrefined, yet eager to ensnare. If we are to confront this abomination, let our blades be sharp and decisive, our strikes swift and relentless. The otyugh hungers, but let it learn that those who descend into the depths of rot may find themselves consumed not by appetite, but by the resolve of those who refuse to be its prey."
Grundle looks for the sharpest debris he can find and hurls it at the trash demon.
He then sends an Amped Message to Onye. Now is your chance! Strike!
...Or Stride. Or Shove...or Trip...
Message (Amp):
Amp Your telepathic message allows you to coordinate your actions while you pass on information. The target of the message can immediately spend its reaction to Step or Stride.
Amp Heightened (4th) The target of the message can choose to Shove, Strike, or Trip with its reaction instead.
"The ruins of this once-proud city stand as a testament to the bitter irony of human faith and frailty. Here, its people, with unwavering conviction, called upon their gods, their voices raised in fervent prayer, pleading for divine protection. And yet, the city now lies in silent decay, its temples shattered, its streets overtaken by the relentless march of time and oblivion. The irony is sharp: the very gods to whom they entrusted their survival did not, or could not, intervene.
It is as if the stone and dust whisper of the futility of seeking salvation from forces beyond human understanding. In their desperate calls for protection, they overlooked the fragility of their own existence, placing faith in the invisible, while the tangible world around them crumbled. Now, those who once prayed are gone, their voices lost to the wind, while the ruins stand as mute witnesses to the ultimate indifference of the universe."
"On one hand, there is a twisted brilliance in this macabre recycling, an echo of nature's own relentless cycle of life and death. It is a form of conservation, an adaptation to the harshness of existence where nothing is wasted, where every sinew and bone is given new purpose. There is a grim efficiency in this process, a stark reminder that in the grand design of survival, even the remnants of the fallen can serve a greater function.
Yet, this practice, while undeniably resourceful, also plunges us into the depths of revulsion. It is a grotesque desecration of the human form, a perversion of the natural order that commands a visceral response of repulsion. The reassembly of bodies, stripped of their humanity and reconstituted as mere components, strips away the dignity of life and death, reducing what was once noble and valiant to a grotesque mockery.
As we stand at this crossroads, the decision to halt this grim enterprise or to acknowledge its brutal pragmatism must be made. Do we see it as an affront to the sanctity of life, a practice that must be extinguished to preserve our humanity? Or do we accept its cold logic, understanding that in the harsh theatre of survival, even the most grisly acts can hold a twisted form of utility? This, dear companions, is the burden of discernment that we must bear."
"As I stand before the inexorable advance of this mindless black ooze, a chilling reflection of nature's indifference engulfs me. Here is a creature devoid of thought, of reason, of malice—yet it embodies the purest form of survival: unrelenting, unyielding, undirected. It is a stark reminder of the chaos at the heart of existence, the raw, unsculpted force of an uncaring universe. What does it say about the world, about us, that such beings exist purely to persist, without purpose or passion? In its relentless spread, this ooze strips away the illusions of order and meaning we cling to, exposing the fragile veneer that separates being from nothingness. How do we, creatures of consciousness, confront such a void? With fear? With defiance? Or do we find within it a deeper call to our own existence, a challenge to assert our will against the indifferent dark?
I should probably move."
◆◆ Warp Step to move 30' East and then South
◆ Psi Burst on Yellow
Grundle climbs atop an overturned crate and addresses the armored Karens.
"Honorable Representatives of the Committee of Moral Rectitude,
We stand before you not as adversaries nor agents of chaos, but as travelers bound by a narrative that may have been misunderstood. Our arrival on a vessel that carries the echoes of the departed speaks not of malevolence but of our journey through realms both seen and unseen, bearing marks that are histories, not hexes.
These symbols etched upon us are not curses but are testaments to the trials we have endured and the lessons learned along the way. They narrate stories of resilience, not of rebellion; of overcoming, not overthrowing.
We come to your city seeking not to corrupt but to contribute, to share the wisdom gleaned from our travels across the spectral and the corporeal. We appeal to your esteemed virtues of understanding and justice as we assure you of our commitment to uphold the very essence of goodness and decency that is the foundation of your community.
Let us step forward together, dispelling shadows with the light of dialogue, and enriching your great city with the peace and knowledge that is the true mission of our journey. Your guidance and acceptance would not only help us but also reinforce the sanctity and moral fortitude of your city against true malevolence."
Grundle struggles to peek over the rails of the ship. He shouts down,"Esteemed Dockmaster, we find ourselves at the threshold of your realm, not merely as seafarers but as emissaries. Our vessel, borne of shadows and whispers, seeks refuge within the embrace of your harbor. We implore you to consider our request, not out of mere necessity, but as a gesture towards the great tapestry of existence that interweaves the living and the departed. Grant us the sanctuary of your docks, and in doing so, you affirm the boundless dimensions of your hospitality. We come in peace, tethered to the same codes that guide the noblest among your earthly mariners. Let this be a meeting of worlds, an alliance of the seen and unseen, as we promise to abide by the laws of land and water, visible and veiled."
"I am utterly done with these infernal snakes on this accursed ship!"
(free action) Unleash Psyche
◆ Psi Burst on Purple
Damage vs Reflex DC 21:3d4 ⇒ (3, 3, 1) = 7
◆◆ Agonizing Despair on Yellow
Damage vs Will DC 21*:4d6 + 6 ⇒ (6, 1, 3, 2) + 6 = 18
*:
Critical Success The target is unaffected.
Success The target takes half damage and becomes frightened 1.
Failure The target takes full damage and becomes frightened 2.
Critical Failure The target takes double damage and becomes frightened 3.
Grundle sees Nicholo pull a Ben Franklin and, despite his lack of consciousness, tries to assure him that the problem is all in his head.
"Nicholo, The pain you're feeling, as sharp and immediate as it may seem, is a creation of your own mind. When the lightning struck, it ignited a fierce response within your nervous system, but it's your brain that interprets these signals as pain. Understanding that your perception is shaping this experience might help you manage and possibly mitigate the intensity of what you're feeling," Grundle gnomesplains.
Soothe, level 2:2d10 + 8 ⇒ (7, 1) + 8 = 16
He then casts Shield in case the snakes decide to take his intervention personally.
Whole fascinated, Grundle attempts to Intimidate the nearest star snake.
"Creature born of light and star, your serpentine form, slithering through the cosmos, does not intimidate us. We stand ready, armed with the resolve of those who have faced the void and emerged unbroken. Cease your advance, or be extinguished by the shadows we command. Your luminous essence, though beguiling, will be snuffed out, a star dimmed by the overwhelming force of our collective will."
Grundle Soothes Onye before turning his attention towards Parson Brown.
Soothe, lvl 1:1d10 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
"Beast of snow and ice, hear this: Your presence disrupts the balance of this frozen wilderness. Continue your advance, and you shall meet resistance as fierce as the winter storm. We are of this land, attuned to its moods and elements, prepared to defend it. Withdraw into the solitude of your icy realm, or face the fire we will bring against your cold heart."
"The enveloping mist seems to weave our dreams into the fabric of reality, blurring the lines between the ethereal and the tangible. We tread on precarious ground, where our very thoughts might manifest into being. The challenge now lies in the mastery of our dreams, if such control is even within our grasp."
Grundle concentrates on the least threatening thing he can imagine: a cuddly marshmallow man used to advertise sweets from his youth.
Grundle steps in front of Nicky and puffs out his chest.
"Be mindful, giants, of the delicate fabric of this moment. You find yourselves not just outnumbered, but outwitted, a rare predicament for beings of your stature and lore. The intellect and cunning of those you face are weapons no less formidable than the swords at our sides.
"This icy realm, indifferent to your strength and size, would not hesitate to embrace you in eternal slumber, transforming your flesh and bone into relics of a bygone era. Here, in this desolate tomb, your tales, once spoken in whispers of awe and reverence, would fade into the howling winds, your legacies absorbed by the frost. Consider this, and choose your next actions with the knowledge that the earth is eager to claim you, to make you a permanent fixture of this arctic crypt. The choice lies before you: retreat into the annals of legend, or press forward and risk becoming mere footnotes in the saga of those who dared to outwit the colossal."
Intimidate, Intimidating Glare if the words are too big for their feeble minds:1d20 + 11 ⇒ (15) + 11 = 26
Grundle scowls at Nicky, picks his frozen nipple off the ground, licks it, and sticks it back on.
"One might entertain the notion that the path of lesser resistance, the easier traverse, lies under the keener gaze of watchful eyes. Should there be among us a soul adept in the art of moving unseen, a shadow amongst shadows, we might consider dispatching them to probe this theory's veracity.
"Yet, there lies an alternative: to journey the route already within our grasp, a known thread in this labyrinth, thus sparing our lone wanderer the plunge into the chasm of unpredictable dangers."
"My instincts whisper that the path we have uncovered is one of minimal opposition, a route that flows like water seeking its level. Yet, in the realm of man, instinct is a different beast from that in the animal. In the animal, it is a force unadulterated, a compass unerring in its truth. In man, however, this primal guide is often clouded, tangled in the webs of reason and intellect, a melody distorted by the cacophony of thought."
"In the shadowy dance of human morality, 'stealing' whispers of silent, clandestine acts against one another, a personal and intimate betrayal. 'Looting', on the other hand, roars with the chaos of collective madness, a symphony of desperation and lawlessness played out on the grand stage of societal collapse. We are looting."
"We have you surrounded, 'Hob-gob'--if that is your real name. Fighting back would be pointless. In fact, I forbid it. Don't even think about it. Think about something else. Like elephants. Or surrendering."
◆ Demoralize
◆ ◆ Forbidden Thought ("Strike")
Forbidden Thought:
If the creature attempts that action on its next turn, it must surmount your lock to do so, causing it to take 1d6 mental damage plus your spellcasting ability modifier (with a basic Will save). The target is then temporarily immune for 1 minute.
Grundle whispers as Onye slinks by, "We must stop them. Street magicians are sworn to never reveal their secrets. This can only end in death. Unless that is the masked magician. He sells the secrets and must wear the mask to avoid retribution from the Arch Street Magician Criss Angel, who hunts him constantly."
Grundle knows not where this information came from. But he is sure of it.
Grundle assesses the situation with his usual equanimity.
"Daehalya, I see that several of your internal organs appear to be attempting to escape, like clumsy skeletons attempting to shimmy up a telescope and outside your body. Please allow me to help you return them safely to their home."
Grundle Soothes Daehalya twice as much as before.
Soothe, level 2:2d10 + 8 ⇒ (9, 2) + 8 = 19
And with that, Grundle is out of spells
He then attempts to comfort the clearly skittish Alvarius.
"It seems that violence is inevitable, Alvarius. I can see the fear in the place where your eyes should be. But even in your clumsy cowardice, know that there is a strength, a raw essence that the adversaries might underestimate."
"Prepare yourself. Together, let's face the oncoming tempest with a resolve born of shared purpose. And perhaps, in the dance of combat, you'll find a grace you never knew you possessed."
Grundle sees Daehalya fall. A single tear rolls down his cheek.
He unleashes his Psyche*...
"In this realm of ethereal unrest, amidst the bone and sinew of past lives, we find ourselves forging connections in the most unlikely of circumstances. The naked skeleton, our newfound ally, stands as a testament to the unpredictable alliances the universe can offer.
One such companion in our ranks is indeed a statement in itself, a beacon of raw authenticity. Two might only dilute the message. Allow me then to tend to your wounds, so that we not only heal the scars of battle but also fortify the bonds that will guide us through the darkness ahead."
He casts Soothe the Mind (◆), restoring 10hp to Daehalya.
He then whippeths another rock at the blue skeleton ◆◆). But, like, a bigger rock. Because his mind is unleashed.
• You’re constantly surrounded by the visual manifestation of your psychic magic.
• When you cast a damaging spell, you gain a status bonus to its damage equal to double the spell’s level. This applies only to spells that don’t have a duration and that you cast using psychic spellcasting.
• You can use actions that have the psyche trait.
After your unleashed psyche subsides, your mind must recover from the strain of channeling its full power. You can’t use Unleash Psyche again for 2 rounds, and you’re stupefied 1 for 2 rounds.
With his previous success and the reduction from Onye's aura, Grundle is no longer frightened, although perhaps he should be.
"In the shadowy theatre of the undead, the bones reveal their tales, each with its own enigmatic narrative. Amidst the rattling dance of these bony figures, one stands out, shedding its attire and embracing raw existence – the naked skeleton. Perhaps its rebellion against its clothed counterparts is not merely a display of defiance but a deep philosophical statement.
In the world of the living, garments symbolize status, identity, modesty. But in the skeletal afterlife, what meaning do they hold? What purpose does a shroud or a tunic serve when the flesh and the passions it once contained are long gone? The naked skeleton's revolt seems to pose a profound question about the trappings of societal norms and the essence of existence itself.
Is this a profound existential crisis, a protest against the conventions of the undead, or perhaps a bold statement about embracing one's true nature? Whatever the cause, it's evident that even in death, or perhaps especially in death, the quest for identity, for understanding one's place in the grand tapestry, continues. The skeletal skirmish is a silent symphony of ideologies, a ballet of beliefs clashing in the moonlight, with the naked skeleton at its epicenter, challenging the very foundation of undead decorum.
I for one, once remained naked for a full year, although in my case I simply could not find my pants. Naked skeleton, I stand with you."
Grundle whips another rock at the blue skellington.
Grundle straightens out his shabby suit as he stands back up.
"Lost within the vast tapestry of existence, like a solitary wanderer traversing an endless desert, I find myself questioning, pondering the very coordinates of my being. The past is but a mirage, the future an elusive oasis, and the present, a shifting sand beneath my feet. Yet, isn't this uncertainty the very essence of our shared human journey? A ceaseless quest for meaning in the enigma of existence.
"And yet, your presence here, amidst my sea of doubts, might just be the beacon I've been searching for. If you possess any keys, any fragments of understanding about this cosmic puzzle, please bestow them upon me. Even a glimmer, a faint echo of clarity amidst this cacophony of questions, would be a balm for my restless soul."
Grundle should be heard in the voice of Werner Herzog. Probably should have mentioned that.
Grundle Soothes himself after all the squeezing and clawing and things of this nature.
Grundle will also have +2 status bonus to saves against mental effects for the next minute, should that become relevant. He is now also Stupefied 1 for the next 2 rounds.
The gnome raises his head from the ground and looks around. He is pale, his hair stark white. His face is an emotionless mask, as if he absolutely expected to be here, in this unbreathable atmosphere, with these unknowable demons. He speaks in a flat monotone, his accent...Nidal? Ustalav? Hard to place...
"Salutations, strangers. In this vast existential abyss, we find ourselves, you and I, plagued by these sightless tormentors. Is it not destiny, then, that we join forces in this bleak dance with darkness before indulging in the trivialities of introductions?"
"In this unforgiving landscape, where the void is mirrored in the hollow eyes of our adversaries, many search desperately for physical arms, tools of metal and fire. Yet, I come before you empty-handed. My hands may seem void of tangible strength, but within my cranium lies an expanse as vast as the universe itself. It is in the deepest recesses of the mind that humanity--gnomanity, ourmanity--has birthed its most profound thoughts, its greatest triumphs. The blade dulls, the bullet misfires, but the mind? It is relentless, unyielding. In our shared struggle against these phantoms, perhaps the mind's labyrinthine corridors and caverns of creativity, logic, and determination are what we truly need. For is not the intellect, the very essence of our consciousness, the greatest weapon in the arsenal of mankind?"
Unsure of the nature of these beasts, these other people, or really anything, Grundle opts to unleash the power of his mind (◇) to try to bring some order to the chaos around them.
His eyes dart around, looking for a suitable projectile. He spies a rock(?) and launches it at the creature that unceremenoniously dropped him (yellow)--launches it with his mind (Telekinetic Projectile ◆◆) .
Female Human HP: 76/76 | AC 21 ( 15 T / 17 FF) | Fort +9* / Ref +9* / Will +6* | CMD 29 (25FF) | Perception + 12 | Sense Motive + 12| Stealth +13
Violet will graciously accept the generous refund of a martial flexibility.
Violet's feels her hair stand on end as she hears the sizzle and thump of the lizard next to her. "I think something good just happened over there. Good but also gross."
She clumsily climbs over the dead (probably? I mean, come on...) lizard in the darkness. "That hobbo seems really interested in that big cat. That's probably a bad sign, so I'm going to check it out. Don't worry, I worked in animal control for a summer!"
Violet does some mental math. One hobbo, one lion, one dragon, one Violet. "This is probably going to hurt."
"Unless...?" Violet uses her generously refunded Martial Flexibility to pick up Body Shield.
"Oh, umm...I hate to do this, but can you guys take care of the dragon? Because I can't see in the dark. Some of you guys can see in the dark, right?"
Feeling the zeal of Erastil flow through her, Violet speeds toward the lion hoping to end up directly north of the hobbo, for...reasons. "Thanks for the boost, padre!"(taking the extra speed option from BoF)
She stops in front of the cat-lady-hobgoblin. "Can I hold your cat for a sec?" Before the hobbo can respond, Violet follows up with a "Yoink!" and tried to combat-hug the lion.
Grapple:1d20 + 18 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 18 + 1 = 33
Assuming the lion is grappled, Violet's AC is now 21. If I've done my research correctly, the lion can't use both arms to claw me so I should be safe from Rake (don't Rake me bro).
Violet can actually use them (she swiped one of the bows and can use it with Martial Flexibility). If we want, and if Mott allows, we could have split the arrows.
”Lavanna” | Female LN Medium Undine Halfling Cleric 5 | HP 61/61 | AC 19 | F +12 R +9 W +13 | Perc +13 | Default Exploration ( Search ) | Speed 25ft; Swim 10ft | Active Conditions: None
”Lavanna” | Female LN Medium Undine Halfling Cleric 5 | HP 61/61 | AC 19 | F +12 R +9 W +13 | Perc +13 | Default Exploration ( Search ) | Speed 25ft; Swim 10ft | Active Conditions: None
”Lavanna” | Female LN Medium Undine Halfling Cleric 5 | HP 61/61 | AC 19 | F +12 R +9 W +13 | Perc +13 | Default Exploration ( Search ) | Speed 25ft; Swim 10ft | Active Conditions: None
"Hmmm. I think it's the order we place them, not the order in which they are placed. So Sun on the gold coin first, then Stars on the copper, then Moon on the silver, and finally Comet on the platinum coin."
Unless anyone stops her, Lavanna will impulsively carry out this operation.
”Lavanna” | Female LN Medium Undine Halfling Cleric 5 | HP 61/61 | AC 19 | F +12 R +9 W +13 | Perc +13 | Default Exploration ( Search ) | Speed 25ft; Swim 10ft | Active Conditions: None
"I never know what to tip. Hope this doesn't offend." Lavanna pulls two gold pieces from her purse. "One for us" she flips a coin into the pool. "And one for me" she kisses the coin and whispers into it, "I wish I was big." She throws it in and waits.
”Lavanna” | Female LN Medium Undine Halfling Cleric 5 | HP 61/61 | AC 19 | F +12 R +9 W +13 | Perc +13 | Default Exploration ( Search ) | Speed 25ft; Swim 10ft | Active Conditions: None
