Your eyes open, and you are no longer in the Asylum. You are now outside under a blood red sky, standing in the narrow space between to buildings that both seem to lean toward each other high overhead. Others are with you, but time does not permit introductions
All around is a wall of sickly yellow fog, tumbling through the alley’s canyon of crumbling, gray brick walls like some jaundiced flash flood. Ahead, the unfamiliar alley splits, curving to the left and right. Behind, from the silent swell of mist, emanates the sound of footsteps—slow, but somehow keeping pace with the careening, hungry wave. As one, you all turn and run, sprinting as fast as you can away from the mist and whatever dwells inside. As you run, the first wispy tendrils of yellow mist begin appearing beside you.
The alley walls sag, battered brick slumping over the path, nearly blotting out the bruised twilight sky. Again the grimy cobblestone path splits. This time one route curves uphill, while the other recklessly descends. Behind, the yellow fog and the relentless sound of pursuit grow closer. Choosing the higher ground, the four of you press onward, struggling against your screaming muscles. But still the mist gets closer, rolling along the broken cobblestones.
The wall of mist parts, now mere steps behind. A mask of gray rags emerges, strips of something fleshier than fabric worming and constricting across a body that’s almost humanlike — but too lean, and far too flexible. Gauzy gray ribbons reach out like tendrils, each grasping for less doubtful flesh to claim.
Despite your best efforts, the tendrils lash about and grab each of you. More and more appear from the mist, stretching your bodies out with arms and legs held wide apart. The emotionless mask of gray rags watches impassively as the tendrils holding you begin constricting and pulling - literally tearing you apart.
As the pain begins to become unbearable, pops and cracks echo along the alleyway as bones and joints are destroyed. Muffled screams echo along the cracked brick, broken only by the sound of grossnwet slurping from somewhere nearby.
Somewhere, from beyond the mist, a single voice calls out, "Wake up! Wake up, damn you!"
With that, the pain instantly vanishes, and you open your eyes again. Groggy and unsteady, you glance around - this time, you find yourself in the familiar surroundings of the asylum. Or to be more precise, inside a cell, inside the asylum. There are four people here, all of whom you recognize from the dream you just shared. But despite how friendly and familiar these strangers appear to be, you don't have any idea who they are.
Beyond the wall of bars, you see a man lying on a table with heavy rope bound across his arms and legs. "Thank the Gods you're awake, please, you have to help me - the doctor has gone mad!"
Fresh wounds cover his body, and his bloody mouth is missing more than a few teeth.
You also see another figure, extremely thin and a
blood-smeared doctor’s coat, circling the table at a casual pace. The figure stops, leans over to examine one of the man's wounds, then continues to walk around.
The figure stops beside a wide table and lifts something off of it. To your surprise, it appears to be a piece of broken glass. With a swift motion, the doctor brings the glass down across the man's chest, eliciting a tortured wail.
The man screams and looks at you, "Please, I can't take much more!"
With an oddly gentle gesture, the doctor puts his finger to his lips, "Shhh." he says very quietly.
Shawn startles himself awake, sweat dripping from his forehead. He has seen a lot of shit in his days, but this felt all too real
Shawn takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Even in the face of danger, it was important to keep a level and proper head.
Mumbles softly to himself "alright shawny boy, who did you piss off this time", groaning as every ounce of strength seems to be drained from his body. Each shoulder feels like it's been poked with a hot iron.
Shawn sees the other people in the cell, but the present danger seems to be outside the cell.
Who is this man? where are we? are we next?
After a few seconds, Shawn closes his eye, giving the perception that he is still asleep to better asses the situation
If I live to only accept my burden but not practice my oath, what good would that be?
He woke up on his own thoughts. It took a while to understand where he was, and he certainly didn't understand who he was. Or those people, around him, and yet he, somehow, trusted them. But not that doctor. Or that man on the bed.
Paranoid, he hugged his own legs, for moments, before repeating to himself in his mind.
No. I have a duty. I don't know how, or what, but I know I do. Damerrich be praised.
What did that came from? He didn't have to think. He stood up, slowly, evaluating the whole situation.
And, then, he noticed that. That man was suffering. He had to do something. Plus, he was there, caged like an animal. He wouldn't take it.
Somehow he trusted the men around him - would these other three be his friends? Would they understand better the situation? Nevertheless, he signed, pointing at the doctor's belt, trying to not be noticed by him.
Can I try to reach the keys, stealthly, with my tail?
The doctor does not notice Andulian's gestures. In fact, it appears as if the doctor is completely unaware of your presence.
"Razia!" Petr sits straight up gasping a name. He isn't sure why he said that name but it feels perfectly right to do after a nightmare.
What is it now? A voice responds in his head. Then he remembers. Razia is his phantom, a spirit bound to him, somehow, but he doesn't remember why. Nothing Razia, just a bad dream. She says no more but he can feel something from her. Compassion perhaps?
He then notices the things going on around him. He's never been the most scrupulous man but even he had his limits. Watching a man being tortured was beyond those limits and besides, he doesn't want to stay locked up any longer than he has to. He may not remember much but he does know what he can do. Seeing that the doctor seems to be ignoring them he nods towards the teifling, not sure why he should trust him but again it just seems right.
He points at the keyring himself but he has a different reason.
Darin seem unperturbed by what's happening in front of him or by the nightmare.
Excuse me sir, what are you doing to that man? Whatever it is, it can wait until you've let me out of here!
still new to the paizo boards. pardon the double post
Shawn rises to his knees, his knees cracking, mumbling to himself
mumbling softly to himself "Well these men dont seem like the subtle type. Not everyone has the patient of a saint."
Shawn stands slightly behind the rest of the group, making more noise than he is comfortable with as to not get a sword in the gut
In situations like this, dont put yourself in harms way unless absolutely necessary. He mumbles to himself again.
Murder was something that comes with the job, but torture has never been his strong suit
As Petr's voice rises in casting his spell, the doctor slowly turns toward you. In a voice that could scrape paint off a fence, he says, "Peace, friends. You will have your turn soon enough."
Petr's spell finishes, and the keyring lifts slightly revealing the leather fob holding them in place. The keyring gently lowers back down in place as the spell fails to retrieve them.
The doctor pokes and prods the man on the table, muttering to himself as he reaches forward gingerly with a jagged piece of twisted metal about six inches long. Right as he touches the man with the metal, the doctor jerks it back shaking his head. This continues a few times until Darin's stern voice echoes off the stones.
The doctor spins faster this time and takes a step toward the cell. "I said be at peace! Are you all imbeciles, or do you want my first blessing to be the removal of your tongues?! Now be quiet!" He turns back toward the table and continues his "examination" of the man.
All of you notice that while he was agitated, his face began to ripple and waver, almost as if it was made of liquid.
Petr looks annoyed at the doctor's words, and his own failure. He looks to the others and holds a finger up in a 'one moment' gesture. He sits on the floor and begins meditating.
Darin is unsure of what his comrade is up to, but he is not unfamiliar with magic and guesses his meditation is not entirely benign. For some reason, he trusts this young man. Though Darin is not himself an aggressive individual, he is adept at preying on his foes' weaknesses and sees an opportunity.
"Quiet!? Don't dare speak to me in that tone again! I demand you come over here and RELEASE ME!"
The final command booms with a force of magic as the room fills with illusory sounds of cacophony.
He turns to the others in the cell and speaks calmly, "Be ready."
Mr. Dukes seems astonished at the boldness of these men. Times were bleak sure, but some face danger head on in magnificent ways.
Not wanting to look like the coward he had become in his older age, Mr. Dukes slips closer to the cage doors, ready for the unexpected.
Mr. Dukes nods in agreement toward the loud mouth, wishing he had a name to associate with such a powerful voice. Familiarity would have to come later, this is neither the time nor the place for such comforts.
"Just say the word"
Mr. Dukes surveys the cell to see if anything useful might be handy to help with this doctor, but his eye sight hasn't been the best as of late. Maybe he should invest in some glasses.
But the one thing that never failed him was his mind. Still as sharp as a tack. That's what makes him so good at his job.
Mr. Dukes changes his stance and slides behind the loud mouth, whispering, trying to hide his voice from the Doctor:
"This Doctor is more than he seems to be. If i were to venture a guess from the ripples i noticed out of the corner of my eyes, this man is some kind of shapechanger."
Hmmm. - the tiefling grunted. While initially confused, he quickly understood something was going on - maybe a last minute type of plan - and prepared himself.
He somehow trusted these people locked there with him, and even if he didn't - he was a paladin, after all. Pretty sure about it. Maybe. 83%. Anyway, he felt compelled to help against evil, and that doctor was definitely on this category.
Andulian approached the cage doors, trying to avoid move much his hands. He grinned with his sharp teeth, and the infernal appearance of his oni inheritance became even more evident.
He was mentally measuring his distance to the doctor, and if the villain was to approach, he'd try to help the guys - or, at very least, maybe snatch the keys with his tail.
The doctor begins adjusting a strap on the man's leg as Davin's spell erupts out of the cell. The doctor spins around, anger clear on his shifting face. He bunches his fist together and screams, "I'll teach you to be quiet.."
As he yells, the man on the table takes advantage of the doctor's distraction and pulls his leg free of the restraint. Summoning some last reserve of strength, he kicks out at the doctor, sending the torturer stumbling toward your cell. The doctor hits the cell bars and tumbles to the ground.
As the doctor hits the ground, his whole body changes and shifts, revealing a gray-skinned humanoid creature with thin limbs and large black eyes. He raises his head and shrieks at the man on the table, momentarily forgetting all about you...
Andulian doesn't have any doubts. Seeing the prone opponent, he knows his priority - their freedom. He goes for the keys, not bothering if
If he manages to take the keys, he holds them on his closed hands, leaving his threatening eyes to try to do the job of scaring his opponent.
Andulian attempts to grab the keys from the doctor, but the shifting creature's thrashing and rolling prevents the paladin from successfully getting the keyring.
Petr was a bit surprised that things happened so quickly. When the tiefling failed to get the keys from the doctor he made a decision.
Petr shuffled over to where the doctor lay and reached through the bars to grab him. "My friend asked nicely to let us out." He surprised himself with the use of the word 'friend' but didn't dwell on it.
Mr. Dukes reaches through the bars to try and help in some way, attempting to reach for the keys.
Dopplegangers always were slippery little creatures. If an infernal tiefling cant grab those keys, I dont see why I thought I would fair any better.
Why was he helping such strangers? Dare he say "Friends?" No time to think about that, there were much bigger fish to fry