Investigation check for writings about the locked section of the ruins (layout, purpose, creatures, etc.): 12
Unfortunately, nothing stands out regarding anything in the upper levels of the ruins. Evidently, they were used as living quarters and residential areas during the time frame the journal was written in.
However, as the party moves to the floor with the two sealed doors, they do encounter a fair number of Narin's men. A few questions about the doors and the threats beyond them turn up significantly more. At Elaric's request, one of the mercenaries reports their side of the encounter. The man is pale, having evidently spent some time underground. There's a sick look about him, and he seems to have trouble meeting anyone's gaze for very long.
"We was scoutin' the side rooms, makin' sure nothin' written was hiding away. Well... turns out it's wasn't just books sir. Small company of men headed into what we think were old bed chambers way back. Found a woman lyin' in a cot. Fine lookin' lass, at least at first glance... but it was all wrong. Captain's been around a while, an' he's taught us to spot something dangerous. Needless to say, we was a little curious why a beautiful girl was all alone in the dark, in ruins, I might add, that was buried until WE dug em out. One of the lads whispered 'vampire,' then we're all thinkin' it. One of us with more stones than sense tries to put a stake in her."
He shudders, "Worked out about as well as you'd expect. Wasn't no vampire, thank the gods, I'll tell you that much. Don't think vampires have that much blood in 'em. Stake didn't kill it, whatever it was. Once she was well an proper woken up, she grabbed poor Linus an'... vanished with him. Then she reappeared in the bed, still bleedin' and yellin'. Linus was gone. Then she... changed. Grew horns, grew old, grew ugly. Gods, the smell comin' off of her was foul after she became... whatever she became. She was strong too. Garm an' Horace fell to some spell she cast, faces full of holes. She disappeared three others, no idea where to. We never found the bodies. Took ten trained men to bring her down in the end, an' two of those gave into their wounds soon after. Some of us tried to run, but some foul magic had sealed up the door."
(at this, Wendell looks extremely uncomfortable)
"But in the end, we brought her down. Burned the body for good measure. We've not tried the other door yet. Don't have any wish too, if there's more of those things."
"Karl!" a terrified voice calls from the main chamber, "It's doin' something!"
Rushing out from the sleeping quarters to the hall, Balasar, Skoth, Gong, Elaric, and Wendell see two frightened mercenaries running for them.
"The door's moving!" One of them says, looking nervously over their shoulder "Splintering too..."
[OOC: are we at/talking about the mysterious locked door, the one leading to the ritual chamber, or another?]
[You don't know, that's all the context you have for the moment, but the mercenaries can be questioned for additional information]
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
[OOG: Sorry - I wasn't very clear. We're on the same level as the mystery door (which was all corridors and doors), but from what main chamber do the mercenaries appear to be running? Are they coming toward us from this level or coming up behind us (from a lower level)?]
[If DM feels it applicable, History check to recall similar accounts and possibly identify the type of creature the mercenaries described: 15 ]
Elaric readies his short sword. "I suggest we gather several troops and investigate."
Guan Hao wanders in, glaive on his shoulder and steel cap jauntily askew.
"What ho, comrades, ready to investigate this mysterious garden we've spoken of?"
His bleary eyes testify to the fact that he's apparently just woken up, after a great deal of intemperate revelry in company with our new dragonborn friends.
Guan Hao wanders in, glaive on his shoulder and steel cap jauntily askew.
"What ho, comrades, ready to investigate this mysterious garden we've spoken of?"
His bleary eyes testify to the fact that he's apparently just woken up, after a great deal of intemperate revelry in company with our new dragonborn friends.
Karl blinks in surprise, "Uh... didn't you lot already... do that? Nevermind, sir -uh- Hao? Mister Guan? ... Big Fella. We've got a situation with the other door that was sealed with fell magic"
Wendell coughs
"If you don't mind accompanying us," Karl continues, "We were going to stand by in case something nasty decided to come out."
Guan Hao wanders in, glaive on his shoulder and steel cap jauntily askew.
"What ho, comrades, ready to investigate this mysterious garden we've spoken of?"
His bleary eyes testify to the fact that he's apparently just woken up, after a great deal of intemperate revelry in company with our new dragonborn friends.
Karl blinks in surprise, "Uh... didn't you lot already... do that? Nevermind, sir -uh- Hao? Mister Guan? ... Big Fella. We've got a situation with the other door that was sealed with fell magic"
Wendell coughs
"If you don't mind accompanying us," Karl continues, "We were going to stand by in case something nasty decided to come out."
"Nothing nastier down here than me, little man!" Guan Hao booms, then winces at the sound of his own voice, and says more quietly as he gestures with his glaive, "Lead on, let's have a look!"
Appearing contemplative at first, Elaric's features suddenly harden to a steely grimace composed of equal parts dread and determination. "Karl, before we go anywhere, three questions: first, did the creature have any unusual belongs on or near her person? Second, where did you bury the body? And third," here, the Elf pauses to eye the mercenary's haggard countenance closely, "have you been having trouble sleeping lately? Nightmares, perhaps?"
Appearing contemplative at first, Elaric's features suddenly harden to a steely grimace composed of equal parts dread and determination. "Karl, before we go anywhere, three questions: first, did the creature have any unusual belongs on or near her person? Second, where did you bury the body? And third," here, the Elf pauses to eye the mercenary's haggard countenance closely, "have you been having trouble sleeping lately? Nightmares, perhaps?"
Karl's already pale face goes paler, and his eyes narrow suspiciously "Why? What's nightmares got to do with this?"
Elaric fixes Karl with a firm but not unkindly look, his eyes searching. After a long moment, he seems to come to a decision. "Karl," the Elf's voice is simultaneously stern and compassionate, "I am an evoker, a wizard skilled in battle magics. I have seen and fought many creatures - creatures which do not always attack physically. Some seek to strike in the night, haunting our dreams and sapping our energies. I may not be of your mercenary company, but I have been placed in nominal charge of this excavation site and I feel a strong sense of duty and responsibility to aid those in my charge. You are skilled at martial combat, but I am skilled in magic. If I am right, that creature - or another like it - seeks to harm you and the rest of the company through dreams and magic. I would like, if you are willing, to place a protective spell about you. At worst, it will serve only to give me peace of mind; at best, if it ends your nightmares, it will mean we can begin to protect not only you, but all of the troops the creature seeks to harm." Elaric's gaze, though still firm, takes on a shade of sincere concern. "Will you allow me to help?"
[OOC: Elaric's concern was that the man would be either too frightened, too proud, or too sure of his combat prowess to accept aid from a wizard and an Elf to boot. This small speach is made by way of an effrot to avoid tripping any prejudicial triggers in Karl. OOG: this was also my inner psychologist/therapist being reminded of veterans I've worked with and the considerations I had to have in getting them to let me help.]
Karl's guarded expression falters a bit, and it almost seems like he's waging some private internal battle for a moment. 5
Then his expression hardens, "Nothin' you need to worry about, wizard. A few dreams won't be the end of us."
As he speaks, a loud splintering sound can be heard, even from this room. The sound seems to go on, and under the din of breaking wood, everyone can almost hear... words. Repeating over and over again, but too faint to make out at this distance.
With a snarl ofannoyance, Elaric mutters, "A defensive spell, then. I'd like everyone to survive this..." While the mercenary is (presumably) distracted by the sudden noises, Elaric casts Protection From Good And Evil on Karl.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Elaric flings a handful of silvery grey powder in Karl's direction and mutters a few arcane syllables. Before the dust makes contact, it begins to change, boiling into a small black cloud lit within by Espruar letters that glow like orange embers. Striking the mercenary, the cloud settles over him like a second skin before fading.
Karl cries out in alarm 7
And reaches for a sword before another mercenary, one with a blue feather pin that denotes his arcane specialization, stays his hand. "It's harmless Karl, harmless and might even save your skin." He glances to Elaric, "Master Carsalon, shall we investigate this devilry? Whatever is happening, it sounds like it's getting worse."
With an appreciative nod to the mercenary caster, Elaric replies, "Indeed, let us make haste." With a look at the still shaken Karl, he adds, "Apologies, Karl. I did not mean to startle you. As I said - and your comrade alluded to - that was a defensive spell intended to protect against a variety of foul creatures. Always good practice to use every advantage at our disposal, especially when going into battle. Fight well." With that, Elaric follows the group toward the sounds, his sword in hand.
[Unless further developments require his input, Elaric is done until the party reaches the source of the sounds.]
As the party nears the Locked doors, the voices become clearer. Rounding the bend, they see the remains of the door. Jagged spars or wood gnash up and down on the ruined barrier, transformed into the ghastly parody of mouths. Aged bronze doorknobs spin madly in simulated sockets, and seem to stare with alarming intensity at Karl and the other mercenaries.
The first is reedy and mewling, and every word grates on the senses. Sobs and wails punctuate every sentence.
"Yfelwif and Itandoter grieve!
Soldiers killed Cobhol, not wizards, lizards, monks, or drunks.
Step aside, dare not defend.
Gifts we have for faithful friends."
A second voice follows, powerful, authoritative, and indomitable.
"Delmirev, your welcome home. Carsalon, teacher's secret tome. Gong, your stalking spirit's face. Rolfe, a niece uncharmed. Dolt and druid, mighty arms. Treasure or tears?"
The voices follow different cadences, and the words repeat, causing a cacophony as the intonations mingle and overlap. The voices get louder and louder, until they grow so loud that all present must cover their ears for the pain.
As the party nears the Locked doors, the voices become clearer. Rounding the bend, they see the remains of the door. Jagged spars or wood gnash up and down on the ruined barrier, transformed into the ghastly parody of mouths. Aged bronze doorknobs spin madly in simulated sockets, and seem to stare with alarming intensity at Karl and the other mercenaries.
The first is reedy and mewling, and every word grates on the senses. Sobs and wails punctuate every sentence.
"Yfelwif and Itandoter grieve!
Soldiers killed Cobhol, not wizards, lizards, monks, or drunks.
Step aside, dare not defend.
Gifts we have for faithful friends."
A second voice follows, powerful, authoritative, and indomitable.
"Delmirev, your welcome home. Carsalon, teacher's secret tome. Gong, your stalking spirit's face. Rolfe, a niece uncharmed. Dolt and druid, mighty arms. Treasure or tears?"
The voices follow different cadences, and the words repeat, causing a cacophony as the intonations mingle and overlap. The voices get louder and louder, until they grow so loud that all present must cover their ears for the pain.
As the party nears the Locked doors, the voices become clearer. Rounding the bend, they see the remains of the door. Jagged spars or wood gnash up and down on the ruined barrier, transformed into the ghastly parody of mouths. Aged bronze doorknobs spin madly in simulated sockets, and seem to stare with alarming intensity at Karl and the other mercenaries.
The first is reedy and mewling, and every word grates on the senses. Sobs and wails punctuate every sentence.
"Yfelwif and Itandoter grieve!
Soldiers killed Cobhol, not wizards, lizards, monks, or drunks.
Step aside, dare not defend.
Gifts we have for faithful friends."
A second voice follows, powerful, authoritative, and indomitable.
"Delmirev, your welcome home. Carsalon, teacher's secret tome. Gong, your stalking spirit's face. Rolfe, a niece uncharmed. Dolt and druid, mighty arms. Treasure or tears?"
The voices follow different cadences, and the words repeat, causing a cacophony as the intonations mingle and overlap. The voices get louder and louder, until they grow so loud that all present must cover their ears for the pain.
[Can the party act?]
[Yup! Feel free to assume any breaks in the narrative are jump in points]
Guan Hao swings his glaive at the ensorcelled abomination.
Guan Hao's glaive slips between gnashing wooden teeth, and with giant's strength he levers the door apart. As the door splits asunder, the horrendous din is abruptly silenced. As the other party members and mercenaries gather their bearings, Guan Hao has the opportunity to look into the room beyond. No immediate attacks greet his intrusion. [first crack at perception check goes to Guan Hao]
The room smells strongly of woodsmoke and dung, mixing oddly with a spicy, citrus-y odor laced with cinnamon. Glancing down, Guan Hao spied a mostly empty jar of preserves by the door.
A large black cauldron sits over a cold fire pit at the far end of the squat, rounded room. Its contents are obscured.
To the right, a strange heathen altar has been erected out of bone, hide, and chips of green glowing crystal that match the formations the party has already found. The skulls of deer and men leer out with empty, luminous sockets and crystal teeth.
To the left, a cabinet of modern make is filled to bursting with odds and ends. Within, Guan Hao spies a silver ring among a collection of purple sticks, vials of bilious yellow liquid, feathers of birds from the far north, and a jar of grey mossy strands.
Three large bundles of straw and detritus rest on the ground equidistant from each other. Judging by their size, their occupants were of roughly human proportion. Somehow, despite no obvious entrances or exits, the room is empty of inhabitants. Within one of the piles, something gleams.
No living creatures can be seen.
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[You don't know, that's all the context you have for the moment, but the mercenaries can be questioned for additional information]
[OOG: Sorry - I wasn't very clear. We're on the same level as the mystery door (which was all corridors and doors), but from what main chamber do the mercenaries appear to be running? Are they coming toward us from this level or coming up behind us (from a lower level)?]
[If DM feels it applicable, History check to recall similar accounts and possibly identify the type of creature the mercenaries described: 15 ]
Elaric readies his short sword. "I suggest we gather several troops and investigate."
[They are coming towards us from the same level. Main chamber is the big one where we encountered resistance from behind several barricades]
[History results will be PM'ed shortly]
Guan Hao wanders in, glaive on his shoulder and steel cap jauntily askew.
"What ho, comrades, ready to investigate this mysterious garden we've spoken of?"
His bleary eyes testify to the fact that he's apparently just woken up, after a great deal of intemperate revelry in company with our new dragonborn friends.
Karl blinks in surprise, "Uh... didn't you lot already... do that? Nevermind, sir -uh- Hao? Mister Guan? ... Big Fella. We've got a situation with the other door that was sealed with fell magic"
Wendell coughs
"If you don't mind accompanying us," Karl continues, "We were going to stand by in case something nasty decided to come out."
"Nothing nastier down here than me, little man!" Guan Hao booms, then winces at the sound of his own voice, and says more quietly as he gestures with his glaive, "Lead on, let's have a look!"
Appearing contemplative at first, Elaric's features suddenly harden to a steely grimace composed of equal parts dread and determination. "Karl, before we go anywhere, three questions: first, did the creature have any unusual belongs on or near her person? Second, where did you bury the body? And third," here, the Elf pauses to eye the mercenary's haggard countenance closely, "have you been having trouble sleeping lately? Nightmares, perhaps?"
Karl's already pale face goes paler, and his eyes narrow suspiciously "Why? What's nightmares got to do with this?"
Elaric fixes Karl with a firm but not unkindly look, his eyes searching. After a long moment, he seems to come to a decision. "Karl," the Elf's voice is simultaneously stern and compassionate, "I am an evoker, a wizard skilled in battle magics. I have seen and fought many creatures - creatures which do not always attack physically. Some seek to strike in the night, haunting our dreams and sapping our energies. I may not be of your mercenary company, but I have been placed in nominal charge of this excavation site and I feel a strong sense of duty and responsibility to aid those in my charge. You are skilled at martial combat, but I am skilled in magic. If I am right, that creature - or another like it - seeks to harm you and the rest of the company through dreams and magic. I would like, if you are willing, to place a protective spell about you. At worst, it will serve only to give me peace of mind; at best, if it ends your nightmares, it will mean we can begin to protect not only you, but all of the troops the creature seeks to harm." Elaric's gaze, though still firm, takes on a shade of sincere concern. "Will you allow me to help?"
[OOC: Elaric's concern was that the man would be either too frightened, too proud, or too sure of his combat prowess to accept aid from a wizard and an Elf to boot. This small speach is made by way of an effrot to avoid tripping any prejudicial triggers in Karl. OOG: this was also my inner psychologist/therapist being reminded of veterans I've worked with and the considerations I had to have in getting them to let me help.]
Karl's guarded expression falters a bit, and it almost seems like he's waging some private internal battle for a moment. 5
Then his expression hardens, "Nothin' you need to worry about, wizard. A few dreams won't be the end of us."
As he speaks, a loud splintering sound can be heard, even from this room. The sound seems to go on, and under the din of breaking wood, everyone can almost hear... words. Repeating over and over again, but too faint to make out at this distance.
With a snarl ofannoyance, Elaric mutters, "A defensive spell, then. I'd like everyone to survive this..." While the mercenary is (presumably) distracted by the sudden noises, Elaric casts Protection From Good And Evil on Karl.
Elaric flings a handful of silvery grey powder in Karl's direction and mutters a few arcane syllables. Before the dust makes contact, it begins to change, boiling into a small black cloud lit within by Espruar letters that glow like orange embers. Striking the mercenary, the cloud settles over him like a second skin before fading.
Karl cries out in alarm 7
And reaches for a sword before another mercenary, one with a blue feather pin that denotes his arcane specialization, stays his hand. "It's harmless Karl, harmless and might even save your skin." He glances to Elaric, "Master Carsalon, shall we investigate this devilry? Whatever is happening, it sounds like it's getting worse."
With an appreciative nod to the mercenary caster, Elaric replies, "Indeed, let us make haste." With a look at the still shaken Karl, he adds, "Apologies, Karl. I did not mean to startle you. As I said - and your comrade alluded to - that was a defensive spell intended to protect against a variety of foul creatures. Always good practice to use every advantage at our disposal, especially when going into battle. Fight well." With that, Elaric follows the group toward the sounds, his sword in hand.
[Unless further developments require his input, Elaric is done until the party reaches the source of the sounds.]
As the party nears the Locked doors, the voices become clearer. Rounding the bend, they see the remains of the door. Jagged spars or wood gnash up and down on the ruined barrier, transformed into the ghastly parody of mouths. Aged bronze doorknobs spin madly in simulated sockets, and seem to stare with alarming intensity at Karl and the other mercenaries.
The first is reedy and mewling, and every word grates on the senses. Sobs and wails punctuate every sentence.
"Yfelwif and Itandoter grieve!
Soldiers killed Cobhol, not wizards, lizards, monks, or drunks.
Step aside, dare not defend.
Gifts we have for faithful friends."
A second voice follows, powerful, authoritative, and indomitable.
"Delmirev, your welcome home.
Carsalon, teacher's secret tome.
Gong, your stalking spirit's face.
Rolfe, a niece uncharmed.
Dolt and druid, mighty arms.
Treasure or tears?"
The voices follow different cadences, and the words repeat, causing a cacophony as the intonations mingle and overlap. The voices get louder and louder, until they grow so loud that all present must cover their ears for the pain.
[Can the party act?]
[Yup! Feel free to assume any breaks in the narrative are jump in points]
"Shut up and die, you jabbering shambles!"
Guan Hao swings his glaive at the ensorcelled abomination.
Guan Hao's glaive slips between gnashing wooden teeth, and with giant's strength he levers the door apart. As the door splits asunder, the horrendous din is abruptly silenced. As the other party members and mercenaries gather their bearings, Guan Hao has the opportunity to look into the room beyond. No immediate attacks greet his intrusion. [first crack at perception check goes to Guan Hao]
Guan Hao's Perception: 9
The room smells strongly of woodsmoke and dung, mixing oddly with a spicy, citrus-y odor laced with cinnamon. Glancing down, Guan Hao spied a mostly empty jar of preserves by the door.
A large black cauldron sits over a cold fire pit at the far end of the squat, rounded room. Its contents are obscured.
To the right, a strange heathen altar has been erected out of bone, hide, and chips of green glowing crystal that match the formations the party has already found. The skulls of deer and men leer out with empty, luminous sockets and crystal teeth.
To the left, a cabinet of modern make is filled to bursting with odds and ends. Within, Guan Hao spies a silver ring among a collection of purple sticks, vials of bilious yellow liquid, feathers of birds from the far north, and a jar of grey mossy strands.
Three large bundles of straw and detritus rest on the ground equidistant from each other. Judging by their size, their occupants were of roughly human proportion. Somehow, despite no obvious entrances or exits, the room is empty of inhabitants. Within one of the piles, something gleams.
No living creatures can be seen.