They Rose from the Darkness Beneath...

[Mr. X]

'Neath the headsman's sword they fell... Man, woman, and child...

'Fore the headsman's sword they were driven... Beast, abomination, and horror...

'Hind the headsman's sword they were sealed... By purest soul, and gold...

The Sacrifice... Her words echoing down the corridor as the final stone was set

"Hold now and forever, let not a one escape..."

And then the stone was set, and the last gleaming sun's ray was banished from that place...

And the Headsman held before the gate, shrouded in darkness, for the barest moment, before the seal broke...

He felt it in his bones, and the back of his teeth, that shiver of shattering glass, and knew that all was for naught...

Behind him the gate had not yet been breached, but it's strength was gone, lost as a whisper on the wind.


"... Let not a one escape..."

[Bratovitch]

The gateway chamber to the Great Seal was meant to be the final bulwark against unclean horror & foolish tomb robber alike. The end of a vast labyrinth of cunning traps & obfuscating enchantments, even with these prodigious defenses it is to be expected that some few might brave the dangers to reach the final gate over the long millennial wait.

Here their bones lie in state, skulls to the left, bones to the right. The once magnificent hieroglyphs & runic script of the walls have since been obliterated ages past, scarred by miscast spells cast in fevered desperation, gouged by pitched battles, cracked by the restless movement of the earth.

Standing vigil over this grim tableau like a monument to an unknown God of Death, the hooded, armored figure clutches tight the instrument of it's sacred duty; an ancient blade untouched by the eons. The chamber & it's silent occupant seem to convey a single, inescapable truth:

None Shall Pass

Yet even now twin pin points of crimson light flicker in the depths of the executioner's hood. Unholy vitality once again floods the ancient bones, & bearing the incalculable weight of ages, the warrior raises his head.

[Bratovitch]

Dust falling from battered armor, the sentinel turns to the gate, untouched all these years, & with steady, inexorable force pulls it free exposing the catacombs beyond.

Beneath his cloak the sanguine light smolders, regarding the stygian depths ahead. A long moment passes, dust settling once again. Until the silence is disturbed by the eerie clicks of skeletal hands grasping steel.

Passing through the gate without so much as looking back, the guardian leaves his ancient post, to wander once more on his endless quest.

[Mr. X]

For the Headsman:

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Passing through the gate, you delve ever deeper into the labrynth... You know the way, you remember how it was built. Through your silent vigil, the eons passed as minutes, and little has changed... But there... New tunnels have been wrought, mined through the earth by the sealed in search of other ways to escape the pit to which they'd been banished... To no apparent avail... But the passages are vacant now.

"Kristophan..." a voice whispers...

You stop, the power of your name tingling like needles across your bones...

"... Praise be, your vigil persists... We are broken, but hope yet remains... The defilers fates chose, but one remains... Protect him..."

The Sacrifice fades away, and with the last whisper of her voice, you hear a scruffing shuffle from a thick patch of fungus... Approaching, you find a short humanoid. It's badly mutilated, but alive, and waking up... It is clearly not one of the sealed... A dwarf..? Perhaps?

For Murgan:

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You jerk awake in a searing wash of pain. It's pitch black, and your bad eye stings and weeps as you try to see... You are laying on a scratchy mattress, or so it feels at first. Peering through the darkness, you see it is infact a large patch of fungus...

... Your face hurts, and you cannot feel your left arm... And... Your beard is missing..?

As you try to roll over, you catch sight of a visage that chills you to the bone...

A figure stands over you, still and silent as stone, clad in dark plate and grasping a massive greatsword... But one such as yourself cannot fail to recognize the headsman's cowl covering it's crown...

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan rolls over, instinctively checking he still has his weapons and testing his extremities for anything worse than bruising. Despite his lack of adherence to traditional dwarven values, he finds the loss of his beard very disconcerting. It was his beard. He's had it forever. Who the hell took it? He'll gut them. Havn't had a fall this bad since I slipped from a window on the Tower of Swords. I could still move then, though. Looks like I havn't broken anything. Thank Abbathor. I ever make it back to a temple, I'll tithe a fat sack of gold to you, Trove Lord.

He looks up, spies the armored figure, and freezes. He briefly reconsiders if he's even still alive... this grim figure seems like the sort of thing that people are supposed to be greeted with upon death. He forces himself to relax, stall for time, check he can still move.

"Hope this weren't your patch of fungus, headman? Got yourself a little garden down here? I guess even executioners gotta eat." he drawls casually, slowly moving to a sitting position and adjusting his jerkin, surreptitiously making sure he has a knife within easy reach.

[Bratovitch]

Though the armor is ancient & battered, the blade is a study in the sword smiths art: crafted entirely of adamantite, elven script & obscure glyphs grace the length of the naked steel. Even through pain & dim vision alike, the inner dwarf admires the martial beauty of the instrument: the edge honed past invisibility...there is no doubt to the weapons single, terrible purpose.

The inner Rogue however, always practical, notes the priceless star sapphires set into the hilt.

Regardless, the silent knight may as well be carved from stone. Only the flickering pin points of crimson deep within the hood imply it is anything other than a statue.

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Watching the sublime light of the living suffuse the injured defiler, Kristophan is content to wait. Should the light begin to flicker, I will plan on relocating him to another chamber.

[Mr. X]

For Murgan:

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As you check yourself over, you find that the phrase 'whole and unbroken' no longer applies to you...

The reason you could not feel your left arm, is because it, like your beard, is also missing... Severed at the elbow by a clean, surgical cut that has been delicately sewn shut... Bizzare, crystaline growths protrude from the wound.

Your skin too, has taken on an unhealthy, rough, almost scaly texture...

Your face sears white hot at your touch... Raw flesh... It wasn't just your beard they took... you've been skinned...

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You thought you were ugly before...

Please apply the Fungal Template to your character, and choose a mutation.

The Fungal Template

Type: Change to “Aberration”

Hit Dice: Change all current and future hit dice to D8 if class HD are lower.

Strength: +4
Dexterity: -2
Constitution: +6
Charisma: -2
Wisdom: -2

Gains Darkvision: 60ft if it didn't already have it.

Light Sensitive: -2 to all attack rolls & saving throws within bright light.

Barkskin: +4 Natural Armor bonus

Natural Weapons: Bite attacks deal 1d4 or increase in damage by 1 die category if they were already present.

Fast Healing: Each round the subject recovers a number of HP equal to half it's Hit Dice (max of 10),

Necrophage: The subject gains the memories of any thing it eats: Make a Will Save (DC: 10 + Target Creatures Hit Dice) when ever this effect takes place. Failure results in 1 temporary Wisdom damage, & the memories are muddled & dreamlike. Success reveals the memories flawlessly.

Mutations

For every 4 HD the subject gains a Mutation. Provided are some examples of mutations.

Spores: You spread the fungus everywhere you go. All creatures within 30ft must succeed at a Fortitude Save (DC: 10+Hit Dice) or suffer 1D4 Con Damage, and potentially become carriers of the Fungus themselves.

Energy Resistance: 10 +the target's Con. Modifier, select one type per Mutation

Spell Resistance: 10 +the target's Con. Modifier.

Psychic Resonance: Gain +1 to your Psion Level

Crystalline Limb: The crystal growth deals 1d8 Slashing/Piercing damage, has a +4 Strength for attacks with the limb only, x2 Critical on 19-20. Psychic characters may shape the limb at will.

Death Burst: The subject develops a hunchback vaguely translucent & filled with noxious pus & poisonous crystalline growths. At will, the subject can voluntarily explode, dealing 5d6 + 1d6 per Hit Die to a 30' radius (Reflex Half) Anyone damaged by this attack must also make a Fortitude save v.s. Poison (DC: 10 + Subject's HD, Initial: 1d6 Con., Secondary: 2d6 Con. + 1 Charisma Drain).

[SlyJohnny]

"...Wh-what are... where's my arm? WHERE'S MY RUTTING ARM?!"

Murgan's veneer of calm abruptly leaves him, and he kips up rapidly, grabbing for the strange ornate key-axe at his side

"You BASTARD! What have you done to me?! I'll kill you!" he shrieks. He seems on the verge of attacking, only his profoundly altered state and the fact that he's unsure of his new physical limitations causing him to delay from immediately laying in to the tall, imposing warrior out of anger and fear.

[Bratovitch]

Adjusting stance ever so slightly, the armored figure tilts it's head, seeming to taste the rage & pain in Murgan's cry as it echoes into the catacombs...

Into the black depths below...

One hand leaving the hilt, the silent warrior points at the tunnel beyond, & again ceases all movement. Beckoning? Commanding?

None can say...

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan stares up at the headsman, a mad look in his murky eyes. One is bloodshot with a viscous scar rent across it, the other is yellow and rheumy.

He waits a moment for the headsman to react in any other way, his axe hand trembling a little. He stares into it's veil, wondering how long it's been watching over him. A golem, maybe?

He glances over his shoulder for half a second, checking the way behind him is clear, and then takes several steps away from the headsman. He slams the strange axe down into the ground in front of him, and watches the headsman warily as he digs around in his pocket for something, seemingly poised to grab the axe if the figure moves to attack.

He produces a small steel mirror and raises it before him, using it to examine his face while keeping one eye on the silent watcher. He checks himself over, then moves the mirror to the side, trying to see the back of his head. He tries to fight down his panic, even as he yearns to hit something, anything, that might be responsible for what's happened to him.

Alright. Alright. So my stump don't hurt much, I must've been out for a while. Drugged, mebbe. Some crazy took a scalpel to me, who knows why. This is fixable, though. I can still move. Still fight. Not bleeding any. I got the goblin's healing potions. Got enough gold stuffed in my pack to pay a priest to give my arm back and set me to rights, and still have enough left over to take it easy for a while. The others are probably looking for me; I'll find them, and then we can find the crazy doc and put him to the sword. Be nice to watch that bastard die... maybe I'll take his arm, too, eh? I can still make it.

Murgan passively senses how deep he is and compares it to how deep he was before, wondering how far he fell and therefore how far above him the rest of the party is. He looks up at the headsman, pocketing his mirror and retrieving his axe.

"So what's your game? Can you speak? You have any part of this?" he says, moving the shoulder of his missing arm.

[Bratovitch]

Unmoving, as if it will point the way till the end of time, silence is the only answer to Murgan's question...which is perhaps an answer unto itself.

[Mr. X]

For Murgan:

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In the mirror, were it not for your eyes, you wouldn't even recognize yourself. Your face is a mass of scabby raw flesh and fungal growths, where time has tried to heal the wounds, but there is no skin to heal... The scar over your one eye remains only because, when you recieved it, the cut was deep enough to cut into the facia and muscle tissue beneath the skin...

The skin on your neck is whole, after a fashion, right up to the line of your jaw, where it ends in a straight, clean, surgical cut... Absently, you recognize the incision line as an almost textbook guide on where to open a man's throat...

The cut circles your face, leaving both your scalp and your ears untouched, peeling off only the skin covering your face.

--------

Feeling out your depth in the embrace of the earth around you, you understand that you have fallen a long, long way... Just shy of half a mile, if you wanted to be exact about it... You cannot immagine how you survived.

Glancing upwards, you note that there is no hole in the ceiling through which you could have fallen, so you must have been moved... For what purpose, you can only guess at, though you might draw a few conclusions from the physical changes you have experianced...

Regardless of all that, besides the pain in your raw face, you feel remarkably hale and hearty. You are not wounded, and not really even bruised... You can only guess at how much time has passed since your fall, must have been at least a few hours... Or days... Or Months? ... Years?

You remeber the Minotaur as if the encounter was only moments ago, but who can say for sure...

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan stares, agape. He runs a finger along the scar of his throat, disbelieving. He looks back up at the hooded figure, and smirks, baring his teeth inside his raw face.

"Well, aren't we a pair. Some say women like scars. What do you think? Are fancy noble ladies going to ask me to dance?"

He pockets the mirror, and surreptitiously checks his undergarments as he does so. He doesn't understand how he survived having his throat cut, and a wild thought occurs to him that he might actually be a walking dead; he knows that dead men often vent their bowels, and so he checks to see whether or not he messed his breeches with all the dignity that a young dwarf can muster.

He stands, retrieves his axe, and nods to the headsman. "I'm ready. Lead on, then."

[Mr. X]

For Murgan:

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Your breeches, while being far from clean, are as yet unfilled by excrement.

Further evidence of your continued living is drawn from your heavily working lung capacity, and the steady beat of your heart.

[Bratovitch]

Coming to life at the words, the Headsman slips into the catacombs once more, a series of faint clicks accompanying the movement. Walking softly as he does so, it is clear that he does not wish to be heard by whatever might lurk in the dungeon. Regardless, it seems he knows the way.

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Unless another exit is apparent, Kristophan will lead Murgan back the way he came, to the primary entrance. If a tunnel sloping upwards becomes available, even a sheer one, he may try that as well

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan moves behind the hooded figure, noting his quiet footfalls and moving softly himself.

I knew it understood Common. Probably not a golem, then. Not a talker, either. Wish the damned thing would tell me where I am or how I got here.

Murgan keeps track of his relative depth, wondering whether they are ascending or descending.

[Mr. X]

Down the inky black passages the silent knight leads on. The halls are silent but for the odd, almost boney, click that accompanies his movement, and the quiet pad of your soft boots...

At length, you pass through a narrow, but ornate, gateway, wrought entirely of gold and mithryl. A short ways further on, the passage ends in a massive pile of rock and debris... a cave in.

For the Headsman:

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You don't recall this particual geological event, but the earth shifted frequently over the intervening millenia, and while the builders carved the structure to survive such events, there are limits to even the most masterous crafts... Perhaps the seal's fall was inevitable, even without the defilers' intervention... Perhaps that is why this one must be protected...

There were neumerous offshooting passages as you returned, all leading deeper into the pit. Regardless, with the seal lifted, you don't expect the pit to hold the sealed for long, and if they've escaped, perhaps you can follow their path.

[Bratovitch]

For long moments the Headsman simply regards the caved in tunnel...perhaps reminiscing or even perplexed that it should be that way. At one point he pulls at some of the stones, as if he might tunnel through or even move the figurative mountain, one stone at a time.

Eventually he seems to come to his senses, turning back the way you came with resolute determination. With a broad gesture, he seems to indicate that you should take anything you find useful if you have not done so.

Judging by the way he quietly re-enters the tunnels, sword drawn & held ready, the way ahead will be difficult indeed...

[Mr. X]

Returning whence you came, you deeper into the depths of the catacombs...

The headsman knows his way, but things have changed behind the seal since it was drawn closed, and many and more new passages and chambers have been hollowed out...

Onward and downward you proceed, and while the Headsman seems not to notice the slight change in the air, Murgan notes a singularly putrid stench, hardly noticable at first, wafting up the passage...

The smell grows stronger as you proceed, becoming almost overwhelming, when you suddenly become aware of the sound of crackling fire, and boiling water... soon followed by agonized and wretched screams...

... Ahead, light pours from a gap in the passage, and creeping forwards, you find a horrid scene within...

... A great vat, filled to brimming with a fetid, boiling alchemical solution... Tables and cases line the room, filled with all manner of bizarre components, and strange creatures mull about the vat. Short, and goblinish, all are afflicted by the same parasitic fungus as Murgan. Two posess strange crystaline appendages in place of one limb or another, and a third, clearly the leader, has had two additional arms surgically grafted to it... One at the neck, the other at the hip. At a gesture from this one, one of the others goes to a spot against one wall, and begins pulling on a rope leading to an intricate pully system hanging from the ceiling...

... Another wretched scream sounds out, as an awful sight is pulled into view.

It is another of the creatures... Or rather, the torso of one... Still very much alive, it struggles, wiggling its stumps where all four of it's limbs have been amputated, it hisses and shrieks, bound and hooked to the pully apparatus, as it is lifted dangling over the vat.

At another gesture from the leader, it is slowely lowered downward towards the boiling putrescense...

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If either of you would like to take any actions at this point, you may do so. If you'd like to wait and watch further, just say so, and I'll continue.

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan conceals himself immediately and reaches for a weapon immediately, with such lack of a decision that it's clearly his default response to most threatening stimuli. He tilts his head at the cloaked figure.

Friends of yours, headsman? ...Or did you assume they were friends of mine, and that's why you're bringing me here?

Murgan subtly repositions so that he's in place to try to push the Headsman into the vat and then run, should that turn out to be the case.

Unless that cave in just happened after you walked in... and you would've heard it, and not stood there staring at it like a hooplehead... you must've been down here a while. You gotta be some kind of golem. But you only just switched back on, so you're no good as a guide. Let's see how you want to play this, though.

Edit: Bah, always fall afoul of this. Won't let me say c-o-c-k-s. Replaced with tilts.

[Mr. X]

For all:

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Please roll initiative.

[Bratovitch]

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Damn, was hoping for a surprise round, cest la vie.
(1d20+7)[9]

[Mr. X]

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Oh, you get your surprise round, I just like to get the numbers before the action starts.

[Bratovitch]

You needn't wait long...only moments after sighting the goblinoids, the Golem-Knight takes three swift steps, leaping into battle. In mid-air it's body contorts about the sword, driving the blade forward like a lance towards the mutant leading the ceremony.

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Then without further ado...
Jump check (1d20+15)[23]
Aerial Charge - Depending on the jump check, I'll be looking to clear the first two, target the apparent leader.
Attack:(1d20+10)[17](-5 Power Attack, +2 Charge)
Damage if hit: (2d6+16)[21](+7 from above)
Note that Cleave & Combat Reflexes are at the ready

[Mr. X]

Sailing over two of the intervening creatures, the Headsman smashes into the leader with a devastating blow, his thrust punching clean through the creature's shoulder and tearing free in a lateral cut, severing one of its four arms...

The creature shrieks in agony and staggers, but remains standing, and you watch as the strange fungus already begins growing to fill the wound, as the other creatures move in on the silent knight...

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Creatures' Initiatives:

Leader: (1d20+2)[10]
Creature1: (1d20+2)[6]
Creature2: (1d20+2)[15]
Creature3:(1d20+2)[3]

[Mr. X]

Combat Order

Murgan: 18
Creature2: 15
Leader: 10
Headsman:9
Creature1:6
Creature3:3

Murgan, You've got an action in the surprise round before initiative begins, so go ahead and take it, and give me an initiative roll, and I'll add it in.

I'm afraid I'm on a short tour right now, and so won't be able to post a map untill I get back tomorrow night. As it stands, you are approaching from the south. The vat is in the middle of the room, the leader off to the Western side. Two creatures are between you and the leader, one holding the rope against the wall, the other near the vat's edge. A fourth creature is on the far side of the vat, off to the North. (and then there's the amputee hanging over the vat.)

[SlyJohnny]

Murgan watches the golem-knight charge the creatures so similar to him. Why? Were they intruders in its domain? Are these creatures the golem's enemies? If so, why was Murgan spared? Doesn't look like the damn thing is very forthcoming with answers, and Murgan find that he doesn't want the creature to be destroyed. He doesn't want to be alone down here.

He concentrates for a moment, suddenly changing tack and thinking very hard about gravity and how entirely subjective it all is, when you really think about it.

Then he floats silently down behind the golem, drawing a long knife as he goes. He attempts to use the distraction from it's furious attack to sneak up behind one of the creatures. He lunges from the shadows, wrapping his arm around the creature's torso and below the base of it's crystalline arm, locking it out of the way without actually battling against the arm itself, even as he pushes diagonally off from the ground and hovers twenty feet into the air, aiming to wind up directly above the bubbling vat.

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Surprise round, manifesting Levitate and moving in to position. Next round initiating a grapple attack as a standard action (flanking the creature with the headsman and hopefully not triggering an AoO because I havn't been seen yet) and then floating 20 feet up as a move action.

Initiative: (1d20+2)[18]
Concentration DC 17 (1d20+6)[8] (to dispense with Olfactory display from manifesting, though I don't care too much.)
Stealth (1d20+9)[11] If this fails, my target gets an AoO against me.
Surprise (hopefully surprise!) touch attack to initiate grapple: (1d20+8)[17]
Grapple check (1d20+6)[9], (1d4+3)[7] damage if hit.

Edit: Ick. Bad Rolls. Activating Adrenaline Boost as a Swift Action, which should increase all rolls this round except concentration by 1.

[Mr. X]

The creatures whirl and turn in surprise at the silent knight, giving Murgan the opening to slip in behind them...

Quietly intending to take to the air, a sharp jolt of prickling pins and needles courses through you as the fungus' crystalline growths resonate powerfully with the psionic eminations in a burst of energy that sends you hurtling forwards like an unstoppered balloon...

Out of control, you smash hard into the goblin near the vat... Grasping wildly, you fail to get a good grip on him, but the force of the collision upsets his ballance, and he topples headlong into the putrid brine...

The Leader staggers back from the silent knight, screaching and gibbering in some disgusting language, before making a twisting gesture at the Headsman, and a searing beam of energy bursts from his fingertips...

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Murgan, your Spell Resistance is now in effect.

Creature2 falls into the vat, and takes damage:
acid - (1d10)[10]
Fortitude Save, DC 20: (1d20+8)[12]

Leader casts Scorching Ray at the Headsman
Ranged Touch Attack: (1d20+3)[22]
If hit, take damage: Fire - (4d6)[12]

Creature2 and Leader each recover 4hp for Fast Healing.

Headsman, it's your turn.

[Bratovitch]

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Do I get an AoO for the spell cast when I'm threatening? The ichor soaked blade IS pretty threatening...

[Mr. X]

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Oooh, good call. I forgot about that.

He casts defensively. Lets see how he does...

Concentration Check, DC 17:
(1d20+11)[31]

Edit/: looks like he gets it off without provoking an AoO.