Mahmoud informs the others what he knows about the ochre jelly. "If we stay back, we might be able to hit it with ranged attacks without it being able to reach us," he mutters. "But most of my weapons cut rather than crush, and I think cutting it could make things worse for us."
He draws out one of the remaining jars of alchemist's fire. "If it isn't immune to fire, this might soften it some." He throws it at the jelly and then takes a step back.
Thanking the priests for healing his wound, Tribim helps load up the supplies, smiling as Mahmoud carries the box with the lions share of stuff.
Seeing the large yellow-orange amoeboid, Tribim shakes his head. Relieved Mahmoud knew a little about the creature, Tribim pauses, asking, "So we want to use bludgeoning weapons?" As he considers his chakrams and blades. He begins to look around for loose rocks, "Maybe I can throw rocks at it?"
”And once more my blade is useless.” Aerith frowned. Taking the blade in hand, she decided to use her telekinesis to throw rocks and rubble.
As Aerith begins to use her telekinesis to throw rocks, Tribim try's to help by pointing out some of the larger stones laying in the street. As his fellow 'Shadow' bombards the thing he makes sure they keep a safe distance wondering aloud, "Is this one of those jelly things that gather stuff? I wonder if it has sucked up anything of value."
Once the thing is dead, Tribim takes a quick look at the pile of goo to see if there is anything of value. Having collected anything worth collecting, he nods towards the gate, "Shall we?"
Unlike other oozes, an ochre jelly's digestive acid only dissolves flesh, so there are actually a few items inside.
Potential Loot
- Clay Pot
- Small Shortbow
- Gaming Dice
- Human Skeleton
Mahmoud collects the bones from the human skeleton to use during his daily ritual. He muses absently what sort of person they belonged to, and he prepares to continue hustling back to the Necropolis gate with the box of supplies.
Not seeing anything he deems valuable, Tribim leaves the items lay. As Mahmoud collects the human remains, he adds, "I guess that's one way to keep a skeleton from reanimating." Nodding towards the gates, he recommends, "Let's continue delivering the needed items, maybe afterwards there will be some other way we can help."
"Agreed. While that encounter was not the most deadly, it did take time. We should make haste."
Mahmoud grunts in agreement.
The priestess thanks you when you deliver the box. "This'll be very helpful if any more shadows pass through. You've bought us some extra time, and for that, you have my thanks." She gestures at a couple bits of clothing behind her. "This district is rather poor, but some of the residents wanted to show their appreciation. You're welcome to take what you'd like."
Potential Loot
Gold Ring
Outlandish Silk Hat
Smiling as the priestess accepts the box of holy stuff, Tribim nods. Seeing the outlandish silk hat he picks it up and puts it on his head, cocking it at a jaunty angle, "Tell the folks we said 'Thanks and happy to help."
Turning, Tribim's mind wanders to his grandparents down at the docks . Gesturing towards the north he asks, "I figure Gramps launched the boat as soon as he heard there was trouble, but I'd like to double check just to make sure."
As he speaks, he begins to head that way, hoping the others wouldn't mind and that they would follow along.
Mahmoud nods and follows. "Good idea, we should look to your family and make sure they are safe," he says.
You make your way to Wati's Veins District, quickly dispatching a huecuva on the way. As you head toward the harbor where Tribim's grandparents' boat is docked, you're intercepted by a small bird wearing a plaster funerary mask. Flapping its wings frantically, it unleashes a torrent of speech in at least four different languages. Between the three of you, you're able to recognize words in Celestial, Common, and Infernal, but it isn't enough to make any sense of what's being said.
Aerith and Mahmoud realize this is a nosoi psychopomp: servants of Pharasma that serve as clerks, scribes, and messengers in the bureaucracy of the hereafter. They are occasionally lent to mortal worshipers of the Lady of Graves to serve as companions and familiars.
Raising an eyebrow as the masked bird begins to chatter, Tribim pauses, looking at the thing. Turning to the others he asks, "Odd creature, either of you catch that? What do you think it wants?"
Turning from the bird he looks towards the docks, then further out into the river, hoping his assumption was right and his grandparents were safely down river.
”Oh it’s just a nosoi psychopomp. You know, one of Pharasma’s clerks.” Aerith said, as if though it were common knowledge. ”It might have something useful to say. I’ll try to focus on the celestial, and then the infernal. So if you could listen to the common, then perhaps we can piece together its message.”
Working together, you're able to understand about half of what it's saying, but the narrative's still a confused mess of babbling. As far as you can tell, whatever tale the creature's attempting to tell spans decades and is presented in nonlinear fashion. It clearly wants your help but is far too stressed to express itself clearly at the moment.
very confused by the birds babbling, Tribim is at least pleased that he doesn't have to worry about his grandparents. Looking back to Aerith he asks, "Can it understand us?"
Turning towards the odd masked bird, realizing it wants their help but they can't understand exactly what that is, he asks, "We're having trouble understanding, can you show us what you want us to help with? Or at least take us there?"
Likewise glad that Tribim‘s family was safe, the elf whispered comforting words to the creature in celestial in an attempt to calm it down. She stopped when Tribim approached, so as to not overwhelm it further than it already was.
The psychopomp chitters in frustration, flies in rapid circles, and vanishes. You don't know whether or not it'll return.
Mahmoud frowns at the psychopomp's antics. "I don't like going back and forth, but maybe the Pharasmins at the temple could tell us something about what this weird servant of the goddess was trying to say?" He shrugs as he makes the suggestion. "It's probably important," he adds.
Raising an eyebrow as the odd bird disappears, Tribim nods in agreement with Mahmoud, "That's as sound a plan as any, let's head that way." Keeping his hands near his blades, Tribim begins to move towards the Sunburst Market.
As they move through town he wonders if, once they inquire of the Pharasmins, he should check on his own temple and see how the priestesses are doing.
Aerith almost complained about how much walking they were having to do, but given the situation the city was in decided to keep her peace. Rather, she comforted herself in that this was a good exercise, and it was proof of their heroism.
After telling the priests at the Grand Mausoleum what happened, one tells you that it probably has something to do with Ptemenib. Having an invisible companion would explain the man's proclivity for conversing with himself when he thinks nobody's watching. Unfortunately, he hasn't been seen since about halfway through the morning's auction, when he abruptly left on "important temple business." He didn't elaborate.
Trying to remember if he'd seen a priest named Ptemenib, Tribim wondered if the odd bird may be associated with the man. Not sure what else to do, he chimes in, "We can keep an eye out for him." Looking for a reason to check on the folks at his own temple he adds, "Maybe it involved some sort of mutual temple celebration and was headed to the temple of Bastet." He looks at Mahmoud and shrugs, "It could happen."
Still wanting to double check on his friends he adds, "when we head to Bastet's temple We can keep an eye out for him." Pausing long enough so as not to be rude, he begins to head towards the door, hoping the others will go with him.
You head to Bastet's temple, passing the Canny Jackal as you do. As you approach, the auction house owner rushes to you. "I wanted to extend my deepest gratitude for saving the people inside earlier. If there's anything in my stock of unsold wares that can help you, please take it. Really, it's the least I can do."
Potential Loot
mistmail
Oil - hold portal
Potion - aid
Potion - sanctuary
Potion - spider climb
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Mistmail
The fine links of this chain shirt form a pattern of roiling clouds. On command once per day, the wearer can transform it into thick fog that fills his space and provides concealment (20% miss chance) for 3 minutes. This mist moves with the character. Effects that disperse the mist or destroy it cause the armor to reform into its solid shape on the character’s body, as does speaking the command word or entering a place where the fog-magic doesn’t function (such as underwater). If the character tries to don another suit of armor while the mistmail is in fog form, it reforms at the character’s feet.
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Mahmoud raises an eyebrow at the rogue's tortured justification, but follows Tribim anyway.
As you pass through an alley on the way to the temple of Bastet, a giant web suddenly shoots out of the shadows!
From the dark recesses of the alley, a Large spider skitters toward you. As it gets closer, you can see numerous regular-sized spiders falling from its body like drops of blood.
Aerith and Mahmoud realize this is a deathweb: the undead exoskeleton of a giant spider 'piloted' by a hive mind of thousands of regular-sized spiders. Simply getting too close to this thing risks being covered in spiders yourself.
Seeing the giant undead spider, Tribim barely keeps his jaw from dropping. Instead he asks as he watches the think skitter forwards, "Why would something like that be buried in a city's necropolis?" About to recommend that they plan a strategic withdrawal he realizes the thing has tried to 'take' Mahmoud. Drawing a chakram he throws it at the creature as he asks, "Mahmoud can you get away from it?" taking a step back.
"This I do *NOT* like." Aerith said, as she walked forward, her blade hovering next to her protectively. Putting a hand on Mahmoud, the man vanished and reappeared, free from the web. "This is a deathweb." She added, not missing a beat. "The exoskeleton is an undead abomination, controlled by a hive mind of thousands of regular spiders. Needless to say, we do not want to get close to it." It was only then that it dawned on her that she was talking far too much...
Mahmoud briefly struggles, and then blinks as he finds himself teleported back to join the others outside the deathweb's reach. He nods briskly to Aerith and Tribim in acknowledgement of their statements and actions, and throws his dagger at the thing in hopes of scaring it away with a show of force.
Tribim's chakram narrowly misses the giant undead spider, but Mahmoud's dagger manages to graze it. Instead of retreating, the deathweb charges forward, shedding spiders as it goes.
Frowning as his chakram misses, Tribim watches the disk bounce off a wall. Distracted by his own weapon, he realized the giant undead spider was attacking too late to dodge. The fangs sinking deep into his shoulder, Tribim draws his blades moving forwards, dodging as he goes and feints. Hoping to end the thing before it can bite him again, he attacks it repeatedly.
Willing her blade to attack...
...the sheer horrific nature of the enemy caused the elf to recoil. Unfortunately, her blade reacted the same way, as it was controlled by her mind.
Ducking back as the spider lunges, Mahmoud tosses another quick volley underhanded as he dodges around Tribim.
Still trying to work through the sheer horror of what you're facing, you're struggling to actually strike the massive spider.
Unable to avoid the spider swarm dripping from the undead giant spider, Tribim feels the little things biting into his unarmored hide. Bending over and retching Tribim see's Mahmoud moving closer to the vile thing. Not wanting to abandon his friends, he tries to stand upright but vomits again.
The blade finally found purchase, as the elf recovered her mental discipline. It floated near her comrades, ready to insert itself in the mandibles of the monstrosity as needed, to protect them from harm.
Mahmoud continues to throw his dagger at the undead spider.
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Your attacks inflict heavy damage on the deathweb, but it continues to attack.
Mahmoud shoots Aerith and her floating dagger a look of thanks. He hardly pauses throwing his own daggers at the creature.
Seeing the monstrosity go down, Aerith ran over to Tribm, concern clear to see on her face. Without even waiting to say anything, she went straight to work closing his wounds, lest her comrade bleed out. Sweat formed on her brow as she focused on her work, with the elf only stopping when the worst of the injuries had been closed. Feeling light headed, she stopped and got unsteadily to her feet.
”That’s all I can do for today. Any more and it would tear me apart inside. As is, I can move my blade, but it won’t be able to parry any more attacks and there will be no more teleportation. At least until I can get eight hours of uninterrupted rest.”
Blades in hand, Tribim watches the undead spider fall. Busying himself wiping the small spiders off his body, he nods to Mahmoud, "Well done." Feeling the healing wash over him, he turns and to Aerith. "Thank you, I thought I was a goner."
Hearing her explanation, he gestures towards the temple of Bastet, "We can shelter at the Temple." Keeping his blades at the ready he takes point, and heads towards the temple and his friends.
While the resources of the temple of Bastet are stretched thin, you'll be able to rest here without fear of an undead ambush.
Mahmoud looks around curiously. "Never seen inside here before," he says softly, marveling at all the stray cats. Still, his devotion to the death-goddess makes him a little wary and reserved when sleeping in the house belonging to another deity. He performs his nightly obedience of placing bones in a spiral and dancing slowly along the line with a heightened sense of unease and discomfort at being watched by many feline eyes.
Having gotten depressingly used to slumming, Aerith went looking for a place to quietly rest. As far as she was concerned the city could take care of itself until she was in some kind of shape to do something besides dying a pointless and messy death.
Relieved that his friends and employers were ok, Tribim slept comfortably in one of the spares 'guestrooms.' When the morning came, he dressed quickly and inquired of the other shadows, "Ok, what are we doing now?"
Mahmoud spent the night thinking about this question. "Maybe we should return to the auction house to make sure everything there is still secure. We have some gold left, maybe we should check the stock and see if they have anything that is good for fighting shadows or other undead horrors, since that seems like something we might need to do more. We might have not noticed everything when we were there before."
As you head back to the auction house, you notice a cart lying on its side in the alley ahead, though most of its load appears to be firmly in place. A body lies beside it, covered in blood and twisted in death. Six zombies are present, snacking on the driver's corpse and milling about aimlessly.