Sharn grabbed the cultist under the armpits and dragged him back to the mausoleum. Once there, he turned him over and over again, carefully inspecting the knots. This prisoner was valuable to keep around. (12 perception to check)
"You know, for a general of the defending force of Sanketh ... These cultists were ... Hmm."
Hastos listens to the banter as he examines the immediate area for traps or hidden compartments.(Investigation:18). He winces as he hears Sera shatter the bottle of poison and then snorted aloud as he heard Ororanas protest at the expense.
Hastos speaks up without turning to face the group. ”We may have to learn to be… flexible when it comes to what we’re willing to do to survive this situation. Politics is a game for liars and cutthroats. Treachery is to be expected.”
After a pause, he adds “Ororana, should you need to retreat to stay clear of whatever is to come of this, I don’t think anyone would object. Our list of friends here is short.”
Merkas proceeds tie up the one unconscious cult member and proceeds to search over the bodies (investigation - 19, looking for anything that might give hints to the door Sera dispelled or the one they are trying to enter). As he does he says to Sharn “Best drag this guy in there with the loud ones smashing bottles, please check over the knots, don’t want to have the same thing as happened last time I tied one of these guys up”
After searching the bodies he stops and looks around, his eyes go wide as he heads back to where the door was dispelled and the cultist it cut in half as it collapsed. “Almost forgot about you, sorry it went like that, we’re really not trying to kill any one, well most of us aren’t, can’t speak as to the motives of the extras that join us sometimes.” Once finished he starts dragging the half man towards the Mausoleum. “Welp, best get back, you seem the lightest at the moment so we’ll go back first, hoping we get to have you guys buried properly, even though the lady there never actually told me who any of you were, despite the clear questions, you think that happens to a lot of people or is it just me?”
Back in the building with the rest he rests the deceased in a corner as he hears the complaint of Ororana about the cost of the poison. “Here” he says as he walks up behind her, digs out ten steel coins and hands them over. “Aint much good if there aint nothin to buy anyway. So hows about figuring out this door” (18 Sleight of Hand to sort out the mechanism on the secret entrance)
Ororana offers a friendly, half-smile at Merkas. "You're alright. Thanks sugar!" she pockets the coin and wraps a curl around her finger. "I like this one." She stands back and waits for the door to be smashed open. Axes are no use for this kind of work, so she places it on the holster on her back.
Sharn grabbed the cultist under the armpits and dragged him back to the mausoleum. Once there, he turned him over and over again, carefully inspecting the knots. This prisoner was valuable to keep around. (12 perception to check)
"You know, for a general of the defending force of Sanketh ... These cultists were ... Hmm."
Ororana snorts in laughter at Sharn's evaluation. "Quantity over quality, I guess. But there's a reason why you're team are celebrities in town. There aren't many who can do what you can do. I sure as hells can't. I cheat. I use potions and magic weapons to turn the odds in my favor in battle."
Hastos listens to the banter as he examines the immediate area for traps or hidden compartments.(Investigation:18). He winces as he hears Sera shatter the bottle of poison and then snorted aloud as he heard Ororanas protest at the expense.
Hastos speaks up without turning to face the group. ”We may have to learn to be… flexible when it comes to what we’re willing to do to survive this situation. Politics is a game for liars and cutthroats. Treachery is to be expected.”
After a pause, he adds “Ororana, should you need to retreat to stay clear of whatever is to come of this, I don’t think anyone would object. Our list of friends here is short.”
Ororana considers the offer. Washing her hands of this would be the safe call. She's got a good deal going with Santekh, and losing this ongoing bounty for Dragon Army heads would leave her in a dire position. She looks down at the blood-spatter on her clothing, and how light her potion bag is getting and sighs. "Maybe your friend list needs to get a little longer then. And if you die down there because I wasn't around to lend a hand, I'll never get to see what those impossibly tight leather pants look like crumpled up on my bedroom floor. And that? That would be the real crime." She wiggles her eyebrows mischeivously at Hastos. "Am I right? Am I right?" She holds up a hand and does a half-turn, looking for a high five.
"I think your knots are quite good Merkas. This man, however, is a spellcaster. He could try to burn the ropes off at the expense of his health. Hmm, I know. Magic needs one's voice to happen right? Words, and hums and the like. Perhaps we should gag him, just in case. A sock or a piece of cloth should do."
Sera noticed Merkas discreetly hand over ten steel pieces to Ororana, compensating her for the shattered poison vial. The elf had whimpered over the cost like it truly pained her—though the way she moved, smirked, and flicked her hair made it hard to tell if anything really bothered her.
And then came the flirty quip. “....I'll never get to see what those impossibly tight leather pants look like crumpled up on my bedroom floor. And that? That would be the real crime.” The way she aimed the words—and the look—squarely at Hastos left little to imagination.
Sera’s glance toward Hastos was brief, but sharp. How much did you flirt tonight, really? she wondered, more annoyed at herself than anyone. He had been late arriving… because of her? Did it matter?
With a soft sigh, she buried the flutter of emotions under the weight of reality. This was not the time.
She raised her teardrop-shaped shield, the Elemental steel gleaming faintly. With a practiced grip, she slammed the edge down into the seam of the sarcophagus lid. A crack echoed through the graveyard—stone flaking away in a small chip. Just enough to find purchase.
Merkas crouched low, eyes flicking over the stonework. Unsure he found any way to open this. Sera pack her sword and shield on her back and spit in her hands “It’s well-sealed. Clever. But this is taking too long…” she muttered, brows furrowed. “If that cultist ducked in here, there’s another way out. No one bolts into a dead end unless they’re desperate—or confident.” Sera took position by the stone lid
“Time’s running,” Sera muttered grimly, eyeing the chipped seam. “And so is our quarry.”
She dropped low, fingers digging into the narrow gap she had opened. Stone ground against skin. She winced, but didn’t stop.
“Paladine…” she whispered.
Her gaze lifted briefly to Ororana. A woman who had turned to Sargonnas in her time of loss. A symbol of what grief could twist someone into. Still, Sera asked for strength—not only for herself, but perhaps… for all of them.
“Help me.” (cast guidance )
A subtle shimmer rippled across her shoulders. A quiet warmth. No light. No flash. But she felt it—a steadying presence. An unseen hand lending strength. The old knightly saying echoed in her heart: When the soul is true, no stone is too heavy.
With a low grunt, Sera braced and heaved. ( str+ath 18 plus 4 on guidance for 22 )
Hastos chuckled nervously at Ororanas quip. He was not used to this kind of attention. It made him feel somehow uncomfortable. A little too visible. He glanced down at his trousers at the mention of them. They never felt uncomfortable before. He gives Ororana a playfully disapproving look and continued his search before finally rejoining the group.
“Oh, use the half mans robes there Sharn, with being chopped up all ready should be pretty easy to use as a gag” Merkas says to the dwarf as he leans in to inspect the door mechanism. “Ouch!” The crash of the shield while his head was near the sarcophagus door causes Merkas’ head to bolt back as he shakes it, trying to get the sudden ringing out of his ears
”Yup, that’s about the only way in from this side, just wish it wasn’t so loud”
He goes back to pull the other bodies in. “Ororana, help me with the other two? I got some strength but be much easier with the help”
Sera's strike echoes off the chamber walls as the stone cracks and chips fly away, spraying crumbles onto Merkas's robes. Ororana can't resist a chuckle at Merkas's expense, and covers her mouth to hide the chortling laughter in a failing attempt to be respectful.
The panel still holds, but you can tell from the crunching sound that the bar holding it in place has cracked. One more solid whack should do it.
“Oh, use the half mans robes there Sharn, with being chopped up all ready should be pretty easy to use as a gag” Merkas says to the dwarf as he leans in to inspect the door mechanism. “Ouch!” The crash of the shield while his head was near the sarcophagus door causes Merkas’ head to bolt back as he shakes it, trying to get the sudden ringing out of his ears
”Yup, that’s about the only way in from this side, just wish it wasn’t so loud”
He goes back to pull the other bodies in. “Ororana, help me with the other two? I got some strength but be much easier with the help”
Ororana reponds to Hastos with a smirk and a wink, then sasheys over to Merkas. "Looks like you three have things well in hand. Come on, sugar. Let's handle clean-up." She follows Merkas to the bodies and begins to carry the top half of Cult Member Red like a sack of potatoes, leaving Merkas with the legs. "Gross... this is why I only take the heads," she mentions as the liver nearly slides loose. She quickly adjusts her grip to turn the diagonally chopped torso is upside-down, keeping the insides... inside. "Merkas-baby. You're a magic user. You got a spell that cleans up spills or anything? There's guts everywhere. That's going to get noticed in the morning."
She takes a deep breath...it is weakened. As the others clear out the corpses and start clean up the place she pick forth her shield again. "One last try.. strong father lend me your strenght" she prays and feel again her god grants her a boost. ( cast guidance again )
Taking a jump she hammer the tip of the shield into the stone lid. It might make noise but she have no option. ( str+ath and with guidance it becomes 15 )
She grunts like a harbour worker. Not sexy and alluring at every sentence or her move like Orerana..but frankly she gives shit. She is not in flirty mood anyway...more upset and full of adrenaline after the battle...
The chamber is dusty and crumbling, but relatively simple. I single, candlelit altar lights the mauseleum. When Hastos touches the altar, purple shimmering light bathes his hand and spreads out over the entire chamber, then fades. Everyone feels a wave of calm for a moment, as a sense of indifference washes over the group.
cheapjoke123 and Larskolstad please roll a Charisma Save (DC 10) to resist the effects. Otherwise, matters of conflict will no longer interest you for the duration of the spell. Hastos, as the one who triggered it, will be immune to the effect. This happened before Sera took her second swing, while Merkas and Ororana are out gathering corpses.
As the purple light wash over her Sera hesitates a moment...this fight...the war. Why not just go and party instead...or go sleep? But she shakes her head and over come the effects....even it was very tempting. ( gets 11 on cha save)
"hey...carful with that..." she mumbles over to Hastos the curious one who triggered the effect..then continue her task of smashing the stone lid
Sharn seems oblivious to the light. He raised his hand but for a moment to shield his eyes from the sudden glare, but otherwise showed no reaction. (19 on the charisma save)
Ororana and Merkas can see the purple light flare up from outside the mauseleum. "Looks like someone found the thing that does that." Ororana says with a chuckle. She pauses when she notices the music across the street has died out.
"Merkas... honey... we've got to double time it. People are going to start staggering out of there any second." On her way towards the mauseleum, she grabs Cult Member White by the collar unceremoniously and drags him behind her. She's staggering from the awkward and heavy load of one and a half bodies, but shuffling as quickly as she can. When she enters the sphere of influence from the spell, the shimmering purple washes over her, but she shakes it off quickly and continues her grim work, stacking the bodies in a corner.
Merkas and Ororana arrive a few moments after Sera's attack cracks the bar. The stone door sags on it's hinge. It's difficult to move aside, and only one can fit in the entrance at a time, but it's open.
Hrothbert_Neruca please roll a Cha save before entering the mauseleum.
She looks at Hastos touching the altar and an idea pops into her head. "Hey... someone needs to be touching that thing for it to activate, right? I've been studying this graveyard in my spare time, curious about the Ghosts of Santekh. That purple shimmer usually lasts about 10 minutes after it's activated. But what if someone keeps touching it the whole time we're down there? I'm not sure what the effects of the spell are. I've never been crazy enough to go in while it's activated before until now. But if it casts some kind of illusion, it could help us hide the bodies until we're at least ready to deal with them properly. Let me try something..."
She drags Cult Fanatic Green's bound form to the altar and rests his body next to it. "I'm guessing the body has to be alive." She hoists Cult Member Green onto the altar with a straining grunt and plops him onto it. The purple shimmering effect intensifies again, then fades.
Beacuse the enchantment was already in effect, no one has to roll again for saves when Cult Fanatic Green is placed on the altar, unless you failed the save before. Then you get another roll (CHA save DC 13).
"I probably can't to see any changes until my potion wears off. But hopefully that's cast an illusion on the room." She tucks the rest of the bodies under the altar, and pulls the ceremonial cloth on top of the altar lower, so it drapes enough to hide the bodies a little. She dusts her hands off with a few brushing claps, then huffs, putting her hands on her hips. "Good enough... I hope." She takes another glance at the dance hall. People are, in fact, starting to filter out. Just an amorous couple at first. It's still dark, and won't be dawn for a few more hours, so they can't see what's going on in the graveyard.
"Time is against us, and we didn't have time to bury the blood and guts out there. So let's get moving."
Without waiting for an invitation, she struts over to the busted panel, gets down on all fours, and crawls into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness. You hear her shuffle some debris around, huffing with the effort, then pops her head out, her darkvision eyes flashing in the inky darkness of the secret room. Dust and dirt is covering her face, along with the freckles of blood spatter from killing Cult Fanatic Red. "Not much room down here, but there's a ladder leading down about 6 feet in. Looks like there's a corridor below. I doubt going in quiet is necessary. Smashing that door probably echoed through the walls of the room below." She jerks her head to the side, as an invitation to follow. "C'mon." She curls herself up then spins around and crawls toward the ladder again.
Sera cannot stop from making a teasing comment to Hastos "well crawl after...her tight leather pants looks best...close up" she smirks as she step aside to give him room
Sharn made a quick gag with a piece of cloth from one of the dead cultists, and tied it around the unconscious cultist's mouth. He made sure he was still able to breathe (19 medicine to make sure the cultiest doesn't die) and turned to regard his friends, who were staring at Ororana's rear.
Hastos gives Sera a playful side glance while shaking his head. He wags his finger at her. “No poking.” He says with a smirk. Then, with a deep sigh, files in behind Ororana. (Stealth: 11).
As Hastos crouches down to press himself through the opening, there’s a distinct sound of stretching leather. Hastos pauses his descent for a disapproving second and then continues forward. His armor making the occasional grinding sound of metal against stone, and he has to twist himself slightly for his shield to fit through, but he manages to get it to go through. The air turns from arid and dusty to loamy and… dirty.
“No poking! I swear, if you stop now I’m going to bump my head straight into your butt,” Sera muttered into the dark, half-crawling, half-sliding behind Hastos in the narrow space. “I can’t see a damn thing in here… and if I need to light my sword for visibility, well—just hope you’re not too close.” She grinned wickedly. “Ororana would be devastated to find a pair of shriveled, crispy nuts.”
The chuckle that followed was soft, but real. The dark, confined tunnel, the urgency of the chase—it should’ve left her tense. But the moment gave her a flicker of levity.
She caught a glimpse of Sharn tying up the last cultist before she disappeared fully inside. Good. She was glad it was him handling the knots—Merkas’s track record in that department was, frankly, abysmal. She gave them both a quick thumbs-up before disappearing down into the passage after Hastos.
Her armor scraped along the stone, echoing harshly in the tight corridor. The polished edge of her shield caught against the walls more than once, making progress awkward.
“Stealth is not exactly my gift,” she muttered through gritted teeth, pushing onward. “But maybe all this noise will cover the rest of you sneaking in like shadows.”
Grunting, she shifted her weight, trying not to get stuck. Still, she pressed forward. Wherever the cultist had vanished to, she’d follow—even if it meant scuffing every inch of her armor along the way.
She follows Merkas to the bodies and begins to carry the top half of Cult Member Red like a sack of potatoes, leaving Merkas with the legs. "Gross... this is why I only take the heads," she mentions as the liver nearly slides loose. She quickly adjusts her grip to turn the diagonally chopped torso is upside-down, keeping the insides... inside. "Merkas-baby. You're a magic user. You got a spell that cleans up spills or anything? There's guts everywhere. That's going to get noticed in the morning."
Having Grabbed the bottom half of the bisected red cultist, Merkas grunts. He looks confused at Ororana's comment about him being a magic user. "What me? nah, My sister just helpd from time to time, Speaking of help, I can ask Gramma to come over and cover it up maybe, or not, I think having here going through the graveyard, cleaning up blood, in the early morning after a party when some people have gone missing might send the wrong message. Guess if we aren't around then the there'll be noone to blame."
Hrothbert_Neruca please roll a Cha save before entering the mausoleum.
"I probably can't to see any changes until my potion wears off. But hopefully that's cast an illusion on the room." She tucks the rest of the bodies under the altar, and pulls the ceremonial cloth on top of the altar lower, so it drapes enough to hide the bodies a little. She dusts her hands off with a few brushing claps, then huffs, putting her hands on her hips. "Good enough... I hope." She takes another glance at the dance hall. People are, in fact, starting to filter out. Just an amorous couple at first. It's still dark, and won't be dawn for a few more hours, so they can't see what's going on in the graveyard.
"Time is against us, and we didn't have time to bury the blood and guts out there. So let's get moving."
Without waiting for an invitation, she struts over to the busted panel, gets down on all fours, and crawls into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness. You hear her shuffle some debris around, huffing with the effort, then pops her head out, her darkvision eyes flashing in the inky darkness of the secret room. Dust and dirt is covering her face, along with the freckles of blood spatter from killing Cult Fanatic Red. "Not much room down here, but there's a ladder leading down about 6 feet in. Looks like there's a corridor below. I doubt going in quiet is necessary. Smashing that door probably echoed through the walls of the room below." She jerks her head to the side, as an invitation to follow. "C'mon." She curls herself up then spins around and crawls toward the ladder again.
Merkas shivers as he enters the building again.(Charisma Save - 14) "That's not a nice feeling, who turned up the creepy in here? We may have to explain the blood splatter out in the graveyard later, though maybe we can start some rumours about the ghosts doing it? Anyway we going down?" Merkas has his back to the door as he's storing the last of the remains where Ororana had, trying to push three dead bodies into a two body space, he pulls the clothe back over them and kicks a stray hand back under the altar. "Sorry guys, wish we didn't have to do this, maybe we find a way to make you look like you protected the town instead of trying to destroy, Don't really wanna break the towns moral any more than it already is, and having a bunch of people that are trusted working against it isn't gonna be helpful to that"
Turning to see Sera head into the door, the kender rushes over to the space as well. Looking inside he gives a low whistle at the dark tunnel . "Sure could use some light"At this thought his glowing body double appears beside him."Oh hey there, haven't seen you for a few days, you mind heading down there and giving us a some light?" The Dancing Lights Doppleganger gives a quick salute and follows Sera into the tunnel with Merkas right behind.
Sharn made a quick gag with a piece of cloth from one of the dead cultists, and tied it around the unconscious cultist's mouth. He made sure he was still able to breathe (19 medicine to make sure the cultiest doesn't die) and turned to regard his friends, who were staring at Ororana's rear.
"Shall we proceed then?"
You bind the gag well, which helps stabilize his broken jaw. His breathing is still ragged, but that's to be expected with his injuries. His body is soaked with sweat, and he's running a fever, but nothing so high as to be a concern. You believe he'll recover on his own in about 2 hours. Then, it's up to the bindings to keep him secure. If he tries to pull himself off the altar, he'll likely injure himself further, and a divine caster would know better than to risk that, so the altar effectively imprisons hiim until he can recover some health. Sharn estimates a maximum of three hours to get back to the party's prisoner before there is a risk he could escape. By then, the sun will be out anyway. Although people do not regularly visit the graveyard, if someone were to do so, they might see the blood on the pathways and call the guards. So time is of the essence either way.
Hastos gives Sera a playful side glance while shaking his head. He wags his finger at her. “No poking.” He says with a smirk. Then, with a deep sigh, files in behind Ororana. (Stealth: 11).
As Hastos crouches down to press himself through the opening, there’s a distinct sound of stretching leather. Hastos pauses his descent for a disapproving second and then continues forward. His armor making the occasional grinding sound of metal against stone, and he has to twist himself slightly for his shield to fit through, but he manages to get it to go through. The air turns from arid and dusty to loamy and… dirty.
Once inside the sarcophagus, you see Ororana positioning herself over the ladder, waiting for the rest of you to join her. The hallway below is about 10' wide: enough for people to walk 2x2. There are sconces along the wall for torches, but the torches have been doused, likely put out by the escaping Cult Fanatic. It's eerily quiet down there, with no breeze, indicating that the hallway is blocked... hopefully by a door rather than a cave in.
"Sera's human..." Ororana says, not bothering to whisper. "We're going to need to light those torches. Got a match?"
“No poking! I swear, if you stop now I’m going to bump my head straight into your butt,” Sera muttered into the dark, half-crawling, half-sliding behind Hastos in the narrow space. “I can’t see a damn thing in here… and if I need to light my sword for visibility, well—just hope you’re not too close.” She grinned wickedly. “Ororana would be devastated to find a pair of shriveled, crispy nuts.”
The chuckle that followed was soft, but real. The dark, confined tunnel, the urgency of the chase—it should’ve left her tense. But the moment gave her a flicker of levity.
She caught a glimpse of Sharn tying up the last cultist before she disappeared fully inside. Good. She was glad it was him handling the knots—Merkas’s track record in that department was, frankly, abysmal. She gave them both a quick thumbs-up before disappearing down into the passage after Hastos.
Her armor scraped along the stone, echoing harshly in the tight corridor. The polished edge of her shield caught against the walls more than once, making progress awkward.
“Stealth is not exactly my gift,” she muttered through gritted teeth, pushing onward. “But maybe all this noise will cover the rest of you sneaking in like shadows.”
Grunting, she shifted her weight, trying not to get stuck. Still, she pressed forward. Wherever the cultist had vanished to, she’d follow—even if it meant scuffing every inch of her armor along the way.
stealth 5 with disadvantage)
Ororana flashes a supportive smile at Sera. They may have different ideologies about death, but she respected and liked the currently grumpy cleric. Feisty is Ororana's favorite cup of tea. "Don't worry gorgeous. I'm going to drop down there and light the way. There are torches down there. I didn't bring anything to light them, but if I can get a match or some tinder, we can give you a better better view of..." Her darkvision eyes tilt towards Hastos's backside and laughs softly, more a quick blow of air through her nose.
She follows Merkas to the bodies and begins to carry the top half of Cult Member Red like a sack of potatoes, leaving Merkas with the legs. "Gross... this is why I only take the heads," she mentions as the liver nearly slides loose. She quickly adjusts her grip to turn the diagonally chopped torso is upside-down, keeping the insides... inside. "Merkas-baby. You're a magic user. You got a spell that cleans up spills or anything? There's guts everywhere. That's going to get noticed in the morning."
Having Grabbed the bottom half of the bisected red cultist, Merkas grunts. He looks confused at Ororana's comment about him being a magic user. "What me? nah, My sister just helpd from time to time, Speaking of help, I can ask Gramma to come over and cover it up maybe, or not, I think having here going through the graveyard, cleaning up blood, in the early morning after a party when some people have gone missing might send the wrong message. Guess if we aren't around then the there'll be noone to blame."
Hrothbert_Neruca please roll a Cha save before entering the mausoleum.
"I probably can't to see any changes until my potion wears off. But hopefully that's cast an illusion on the room." She tucks the rest of the bodies under the altar, and pulls the ceremonial cloth on top of the altar lower, so it drapes enough to hide the bodies a little. She dusts her hands off with a few brushing claps, then huffs, putting her hands on her hips. "Good enough... I hope." She takes another glance at the dance hall. People are, in fact, starting to filter out. Just an amorous couple at first. It's still dark, and won't be dawn for a few more hours, so they can't see what's going on in the graveyard.
"Time is against us, and we didn't have time to bury the blood and guts out there. So let's get moving."
Without waiting for an invitation, she struts over to the busted panel, gets down on all fours, and crawls into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness. You hear her shuffle some debris around, huffing with the effort, then pops her head out, her darkvision eyes flashing in the inky darkness of the secret room. Dust and dirt is covering her face, along with the freckles of blood spatter from killing Cult Fanatic Red. "Not much room down here, but there's a ladder leading down about 6 feet in. Looks like there's a corridor below. I doubt going in quiet is necessary. Smashing that door probably echoed through the walls of the room below." She jerks her head to the side, as an invitation to follow. "C'mon." She curls herself up then spins around and crawls toward the ladder again.
Merkas shivers as he enters the building again.(Charisma Save - 14) "That's not a nice feeling, who turned up the creepy in here? We may have to explain the blood splatter out in the graveyard later, though maybe we can start some rumours about the ghosts doing it? Anyway we going down?" Merkas has his back to the door as he's storing the last of the remains where Ororana had, trying to push three dead bodies into a two body space, he pulls the clothe back over them and kicks a stray hand back under the altar. "Sorry guys, wish we didn't have to do this, maybe we find a way to make you look like you protected the town instead of trying to destroy, Don't really wanna break the towns moral any more than it already is, and having a bunch of people that are trusted working against it isn't gonna be helpful to that"
Turning to see Sera head into the door, the kender rushes over to the space as well. Looking inside he gives a low whistle at the dark tunnel . "Sure could use some light"At this thought his glowing body double appears beside him."Oh hey there, haven't seen you for a few days, you mind heading down there and giving us a some light?" The Dancing Lights Doppleganger gives a quick salute and follows Sera into the tunnel with Merkas right behind.
"That'll work." Ororana says, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden appearance of a twinkling kender. She crouches over the hole and gets ready to jump down. "Not a magic use, huh?" She says to Merkas, teasingly. "Mkay..." then drops down below. Her landing is soft, but still clacks with a feint echo. She doesn't immediately grab her axe, which indicates there's no threat. "Clear!" she calls up, and gets out of the way for the rest of the party to join her.
“He’s my friend, he joins us when we need light, Didn’t you see me using my daggers? Like what kind of spell caster throws daggers and jumps around on tombstones” Merkas calls back as she disappears down the ladder. Turning to Hastos as she calls back up about it being “safe” below. “Like seriously, if I was a caster I would be hiding behind you all instead of jumping on scythe guys shoulders, or risking taming Barkly, or sneaking around in trap filled caves, like, Sharn is better at avoiding traps than a caster would be.” Nodding towards the ladder so the glowing body goes ahead of them, Merkas keeps mumbling about all the things he does that a caster wouldn’t do.
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Loyalty Begets Honour
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Sharn grabbed the cultist under the armpits and dragged him back to the mausoleum. Once there, he turned him over and over again, carefully inspecting the knots. This prisoner was valuable to keep around. (12 perception to check)
"You know, for a general of the defending force of Sanketh ... These cultists were ... Hmm."
Hastos listens to the banter as he examines the immediate area for traps or hidden compartments.(Investigation:18).
He winces as he hears Sera shatter the bottle of poison and then snorted aloud as he heard Ororanas protest at the expense.
Hastos speaks up without turning to face the group. ”We may have to learn to be… flexible when it comes to what we’re willing to do to survive this situation. Politics is a game for liars and cutthroats. Treachery is to be expected.”
After a pause, he adds “Ororana, should you need to retreat to stay clear of whatever is to come of this, I don’t think anyone would object. Our list of friends here is short.”
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
Ororana offers a friendly, half-smile at Merkas. "You're alright. Thanks sugar!" she pockets the coin and wraps a curl around her finger. "I like this one." She stands back and waits for the door to be smashed open. Axes are no use for this kind of work, so she places it on the holster on her back.
Ororana snorts in laughter at Sharn's evaluation. "Quantity over quality, I guess. But there's a reason why you're team are celebrities in town. There aren't many who can do what you can do. I sure as hells can't. I cheat. I use potions and magic weapons to turn the odds in my favor in battle."
Ororana considers the offer. Washing her hands of this would be the safe call. She's got a good deal going with Santekh, and losing this ongoing bounty for Dragon Army heads would leave her in a dire position. She looks down at the blood-spatter on her clothing, and how light her potion bag is getting and sighs. "Maybe your friend list needs to get a little longer then. And if you die down there because I wasn't around to lend a hand, I'll never get to see what those impossibly tight leather pants look like crumpled up on my bedroom floor. And that? That would be the real crime." She wiggles her eyebrows mischeivously at Hastos. "Am I right? Am I right?" She holds up a hand and does a half-turn, looking for a high five.
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My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Sharn pondered as he stroked his bushy mustache.
"I think your knots are quite good Merkas. This man, however, is a spellcaster. He could try to burn the ropes off at the expense of his health. Hmm, I know. Magic needs one's voice to happen right? Words, and hums and the like. Perhaps we should gag him, just in case. A sock or a piece of cloth should do."
Sera noticed Merkas discreetly hand over ten steel pieces to Ororana, compensating her for the shattered poison vial. The elf had whimpered over the cost like it truly pained her—though the way she moved, smirked, and flicked her hair made it hard to tell if anything really bothered her.
And then came the flirty quip. “....I'll never get to see what those impossibly tight leather pants look like crumpled up on my bedroom floor. And that? That would be the real crime.” The way she aimed the words—and the look—squarely at Hastos left little to imagination.
Sera’s glance toward Hastos was brief, but sharp. How much did you flirt tonight, really? she wondered, more annoyed at herself than anyone. He had been late arriving… because of her? Did it matter?
With a soft sigh, she buried the flutter of emotions under the weight of reality. This was not the time.
She raised her teardrop-shaped shield, the Elemental steel gleaming faintly. With a practiced grip, she slammed the edge down into the seam of the sarcophagus lid. A crack echoed through the graveyard—stone flaking away in a small chip. Just enough to find purchase.
Merkas crouched low, eyes flicking over the stonework. Unsure he found any way to open this. Sera pack her sword and shield on her back and spit in her hands “It’s well-sealed. Clever. But this is taking too long…” she muttered, brows furrowed. “If that cultist ducked in here, there’s another way out. No one bolts into a dead end unless they’re desperate—or confident.” Sera took position by the stone lid
“Time’s running,” Sera muttered grimly, eyeing the chipped seam. “And so is our quarry.”
She dropped low, fingers digging into the narrow gap she had opened. Stone ground against skin. She winced, but didn’t stop.
“Paladine…” she whispered.
Her gaze lifted briefly to Ororana. A woman who had turned to Sargonnas in her time of loss. A symbol of what grief could twist someone into. Still, Sera asked for strength—not only for herself, but perhaps… for all of them.
“Help me.” (cast guidance )
A subtle shimmer rippled across her shoulders. A quiet warmth. No light. No flash. But she felt it—a steadying presence. An unseen hand lending strength. The old knightly saying echoed in her heart: When the soul is true, no stone is too heavy.
With a low grunt, Sera braced and heaved. ( str+ath 18 plus 4 on guidance for 22 )
She was strong on her own—but never truly alone.
Hastos chuckled nervously at Ororanas quip. He was not used to this kind of attention. It made him feel somehow uncomfortable. A little too visible. He glanced down at his trousers at the mention of them. They never felt uncomfortable before. He gives Ororana a playfully disapproving look and continued his search before finally rejoining the group.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
“Oh, use the half mans robes there Sharn, with being chopped up all ready should be pretty easy to use as a gag” Merkas says to the dwarf as he leans in to inspect the door mechanism.
“Ouch!” The crash of the shield while his head was near the sarcophagus door causes Merkas’ head to bolt back as he shakes it, trying to get the sudden ringing out of his ears
”Yup, that’s about the only way in from this side, just wish it wasn’t so loud”
He goes back to pull the other bodies in. “Ororana, help me with the other two? I got some strength but be much easier with the help”
Loyalty Begets Honour
Sera's strike echoes off the chamber walls as the stone cracks and chips fly away, spraying crumbles onto Merkas's robes. Ororana can't resist a chuckle at Merkas's expense, and covers her mouth to hide the chortling laughter in a failing attempt to be respectful.
The panel still holds, but you can tell from the crunching sound that the bar holding it in place has cracked. One more solid whack should do it.
Ororana reponds to Hastos with a smirk and a wink, then sasheys over to Merkas. "Looks like you three have things well in hand. Come on, sugar. Let's handle clean-up." She follows Merkas to the bodies and begins to carry the top half of Cult Member Red like a sack of potatoes, leaving Merkas with the legs. "Gross... this is why I only take the heads," she mentions as the liver nearly slides loose. She quickly adjusts her grip to turn the diagonally chopped torso is upside-down, keeping the insides... inside. "Merkas-baby. You're a magic user. You got a spell that cleans up spills or anything? There's guts everywhere. That's going to get noticed in the morning."
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
She takes a deep breath...it is weakened. As the others clear out the corpses and start clean up the place she pick forth her shield again. "One last try.. strong father lend me your strenght" she prays and feel again her god grants her a boost. ( cast guidance again )
Taking a jump she hammer the tip of the shield into the stone lid. It might make noise but she have no option. ( str+ath and with guidance it becomes 15 )
She grunts like a harbour worker. Not sexy and alluring at every sentence or her move like Orerana..but frankly she gives shit. She is not in flirty mood anyway...more upset and full of adrenaline after the battle...
The chamber is dusty and crumbling, but relatively simple. I single, candlelit altar lights the mauseleum. When Hastos touches the altar, purple shimmering light bathes his hand and spreads out over the entire chamber, then fades. Everyone feels a wave of calm for a moment, as a sense of indifference washes over the group.
cheapjoke123 and Larskolstad please roll a Charisma Save (DC 10) to resist the effects. Otherwise, matters of conflict will no longer interest you for the duration of the spell. Hastos, as the one who triggered it, will be immune to the effect. This happened before Sera took her second swing, while Merkas and Ororana are out gathering corpses.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
As the purple light wash over her Sera hesitates a moment...this fight...the war. Why not just go and party instead...or go sleep? But she shakes her head and over come the effects....even it was very tempting. ( gets 11 on cha save)
"hey...carful with that..." she mumbles over to Hastos the curious one who triggered the effect..then continue her task of smashing the stone lid
Sharn seems oblivious to the light. He raised his hand but for a moment to shield his eyes from the sudden glare, but otherwise showed no reaction. (19 on the charisma save)
Ororana and Merkas can see the purple light flare up from outside the mauseleum. "Looks like someone found the thing that does that." Ororana says with a chuckle. She pauses when she notices the music across the street has died out.
"Merkas... honey... we've got to double time it. People are going to start staggering out of there any second." On her way towards the mauseleum, she grabs Cult Member White by the collar unceremoniously and drags him behind her. She's staggering from the awkward and heavy load of one and a half bodies, but shuffling as quickly as she can. When she enters the sphere of influence from the spell, the shimmering purple washes over her, but she shakes it off quickly and continues her grim work, stacking the bodies in a corner.
Merkas and Ororana arrive a few moments after Sera's attack cracks the bar. The stone door sags on it's hinge. It's difficult to move aside, and only one can fit in the entrance at a time, but it's open.
Hrothbert_Neruca please roll a Cha save before entering the mauseleum.
She looks at Hastos touching the altar and an idea pops into her head. "Hey... someone needs to be touching that thing for it to activate, right? I've been studying this graveyard in my spare time, curious about the Ghosts of Santekh. That purple shimmer usually lasts about 10 minutes after it's activated. But what if someone keeps touching it the whole time we're down there? I'm not sure what the effects of the spell are. I've never been crazy enough to go in while it's activated before until now. But if it casts some kind of illusion, it could help us hide the bodies until we're at least ready to deal with them properly. Let me try something..."
She drags Cult Fanatic Green's bound form to the altar and rests his body next to it. "I'm guessing the body has to be alive." She hoists Cult Member Green onto the altar with a straining grunt and plops him onto it. The purple shimmering effect intensifies again, then fades.
Beacuse the enchantment was already in effect, no one has to roll again for saves when Cult Fanatic Green is placed on the altar, unless you failed the save before. Then you get another roll (CHA save DC 13).
"I probably can't to see any changes until my potion wears off. But hopefully that's cast an illusion on the room." She tucks the rest of the bodies under the altar, and pulls the ceremonial cloth on top of the altar lower, so it drapes enough to hide the bodies a little. She dusts her hands off with a few brushing claps, then huffs, putting her hands on her hips. "Good enough... I hope." She takes another glance at the dance hall. People are, in fact, starting to filter out. Just an amorous couple at first. It's still dark, and won't be dawn for a few more hours, so they can't see what's going on in the graveyard.
"Time is against us, and we didn't have time to bury the blood and guts out there. So let's get moving."
Without waiting for an invitation, she struts over to the busted panel, gets down on all fours, and crawls into the entrance, disappearing into the darkness. You hear her shuffle some debris around, huffing with the effort, then pops her head out, her darkvision eyes flashing in the inky darkness of the secret room. Dust and dirt is covering her face, along with the freckles of blood spatter from killing Cult Fanatic Red. "Not much room down here, but there's a ladder leading down about 6 feet in. Looks like there's a corridor below. I doubt going in quiet is necessary. Smashing that door probably echoed through the walls of the room below." She jerks her head to the side, as an invitation to follow. "C'mon." She curls herself up then spins around and crawls toward the ladder again.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
Sera cannot stop from making a teasing comment to Hastos "well crawl after...her tight leather pants looks best...close up" she smirks as she step aside to give him room
Sharn made a quick gag with a piece of cloth from one of the dead cultists, and tied it around the unconscious cultist's mouth. He made sure he was still able to breathe (19 medicine to make sure the cultiest doesn't die) and turned to regard his friends, who were staring at Ororana's rear.
"Shall we proceed then?"
Hastos gives Sera a playful side glance while shaking his head. He wags his finger at her. “No poking.” He says with a smirk. Then, with a deep sigh, files in behind Ororana. (Stealth: 11).
As Hastos crouches down to press himself through the opening, there’s a distinct sound of stretching leather. Hastos pauses his descent for a disapproving second and then continues forward. His armor making the occasional grinding sound of metal against stone, and he has to twist himself slightly for his shield to fit through, but he manages to get it to go through. The air turns from arid and dusty to loamy and… dirty.
Character: Hastos, Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread
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“No poking! I swear, if you stop now I’m going to bump my head straight into your butt,” Sera muttered into the dark, half-crawling, half-sliding behind Hastos in the narrow space. “I can’t see a damn thing in here… and if I need to light my sword for visibility, well—just hope you’re not too close.” She grinned wickedly. “Ororana would be devastated to find a pair of shriveled, crispy nuts.”
The chuckle that followed was soft, but real. The dark, confined tunnel, the urgency of the chase—it should’ve left her tense. But the moment gave her a flicker of levity.
She caught a glimpse of Sharn tying up the last cultist before she disappeared fully inside. Good. She was glad it was him handling the knots—Merkas’s track record in that department was, frankly, abysmal. She gave them both a quick thumbs-up before disappearing down into the passage after Hastos.
Her armor scraped along the stone, echoing harshly in the tight corridor. The polished edge of her shield caught against the walls more than once, making progress awkward.
“Stealth is not exactly my gift,” she muttered through gritted teeth, pushing onward. “But maybe all this noise will cover the rest of you sneaking in like shadows.”
Grunting, she shifted her weight, trying not to get stuck. Still, she pressed forward. Wherever the cultist had vanished to, she’d follow—even if it meant scuffing every inch of her armor along the way.
stealth 5 with disadvantage)
Having Grabbed the bottom half of the bisected red cultist, Merkas grunts. He looks confused at Ororana's comment about him being a magic user. "What me? nah, My sister just helpd from time to time, Speaking of help, I can ask Gramma to come over and cover it up maybe, or not, I think having here going through the graveyard, cleaning up blood, in the early morning after a party when some people have gone missing might send the wrong message. Guess if we aren't around then the there'll be noone to blame."
Merkas shivers as he enters the building again.(Charisma Save - 14) "That's not a nice feeling, who turned up the creepy in here? We may have to explain the blood splatter out in the graveyard later, though maybe we can start some rumours about the ghosts doing it? Anyway we going down?" Merkas has his back to the door as he's storing the last of the remains where Ororana had, trying to push three dead bodies into a two body space, he pulls the clothe back over them and kicks a stray hand back under the altar. "Sorry guys, wish we didn't have to do this, maybe we find a way to make you look like you protected the town instead of trying to destroy, Don't really wanna break the towns moral any more than it already is, and having a bunch of people that are trusted working against it isn't gonna be helpful to that"
Turning to see Sera head into the door, the kender rushes over to the space as well. Looking inside he gives a low whistle at the dark tunnel . "Sure could use some light" At this thought his glowing body double appears beside him. "Oh hey there, haven't seen you for a few days, you mind heading down there and giving us a some light?" The Dancing Lights Doppleganger gives a quick salute and follows Sera into the tunnel with Merkas right behind.
Loyalty Begets Honour
You bind the gag well, which helps stabilize his broken jaw. His breathing is still ragged, but that's to be expected with his injuries. His body is soaked with sweat, and he's running a fever, but nothing so high as to be a concern. You believe he'll recover on his own in about 2 hours. Then, it's up to the bindings to keep him secure. If he tries to pull himself off the altar, he'll likely injure himself further, and a divine caster would know better than to risk that, so the altar effectively imprisons hiim until he can recover some health. Sharn estimates a maximum of three hours to get back to the party's prisoner before there is a risk he could escape. By then, the sun will be out anyway. Although people do not regularly visit the graveyard, if someone were to do so, they might see the blood on the pathways and call the guards. So time is of the essence either way.
Once inside the sarcophagus, you see Ororana positioning herself over the ladder, waiting for the rest of you to join her. The hallway below is about 10' wide: enough for people to walk 2x2. There are sconces along the wall for torches, but the torches have been doused, likely put out by the escaping Cult Fanatic. It's eerily quiet down there, with no breeze, indicating that the hallway is blocked... hopefully by a door rather than a cave in.
"Sera's human..." Ororana says, not bothering to whisper. "We're going to need to light those torches. Got a match?"
Ororana flashes a supportive smile at Sera. They may have different ideologies about death, but she respected and liked the currently grumpy cleric. Feisty is Ororana's favorite cup of tea. "Don't worry gorgeous. I'm going to drop down there and light the way. There are torches down there. I didn't bring anything to light them, but if I can get a match or some tinder, we can give you a better better view of..." Her darkvision eyes tilt towards Hastos's backside and laughs softly, more a quick blow of air through her nose.
"That'll work." Ororana says, her eyebrows raised in surprise at the sudden appearance of a twinkling kender. She crouches over the hole and gets ready to jump down. "Not a magic use, huh?" She says to Merkas, teasingly. "Mkay..." then drops down below. Her landing is soft, but still clacks with a feint echo. She doesn't immediately grab her axe, which indicates there's no threat. "Clear!" she calls up, and gets out of the way for the rest of the party to join her.
My DM Registry
My Campaigns:
Ibahalii Vriwhulth, the Reaper of Glory v2: IC Thread (PbP); Secrets of the Island (On Discord); Lost Mine of Phendelver (tabletop)
My Characters:
Krik-tul, Thri-kreen monk; Mme Cragmaw, Goblin Artificer; River Kuthraeann, Wood Elf Paladin
“He’s my friend, he joins us when we need light, Didn’t you see me using my daggers? Like what kind of spell caster throws daggers and jumps around on tombstones” Merkas calls back as she disappears down the ladder. Turning to Hastos as she calls back up about it being “safe” below. “Like seriously, if I was a caster I would be hiding behind you all instead of jumping on scythe guys shoulders, or risking taming Barkly, or sneaking around in trap filled caves, like, Sharn is better at avoiding traps than a caster would be.”
Nodding towards the ladder so the glowing body goes ahead of them, Merkas keeps mumbling about all the things he does that a caster wouldn’t do.
Loyalty Begets Honour