The Seclusion of Three Visions

[Mornings]

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The Seclusion of Three Visions

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A cloaked figure enters a small attic. A voluptuous woman with dark features sits in a rocking chair, swaying as she hums and knits a sweater for a small child. She looks up, alarm on her face, as the figure closes, its back to you as it advances toward her. Slowly the alarm changes to horror as the figure looms over her.

The strange image felt like it was burned into his mind, like a memory in this darkness. Within that pitch chasm of which stretched out eternally, a dim light suddenly shown in the deepest of reds as one massive eye opened adjacent to him. The head of a great towering wolf, easily 12 ft wide. It's face leered off into the distance in the direction which he faced. The great beast was darker than the lightless void about them but produced an enlightening aura which seemed to keep the writhing black of night at bay while adorned with a grim crimson halo which glinted like the harvest moon. The fearsome creature clutched a massive gleaming bolt in its maw, which hissed with a grim magic from the fetish of two comparatively tiny roc's skulls which dangled from its end. A bolt far larger than any ballista could throw; he could not even fathom the weapon from which it had been fired. The towering wolf's mouth did not move, but the creature's throat flexed and a powerful and deep voice resounded from its occupied jaw.

"Blessed Frith hath thrice-blessed even the foolish prince before the Hunt. Three gifts, that if he were cunning and full of tricks, his people would never be destroyed. Yet, I am hunter, master, Child of Inlé. I am Elil. I, Vecc Xaas, Who Hunted The Creator. Like those before you, do I grant three blessings; three visions. Use them well."

✥✥✥

The darkness faded and slowly sound and sight begun to flood his senses; The courtroom buzzes with nervous anticipation. Dozens of eyes, from the crowd behind you and the jurors’ box across the aisle, focus on you. The expressions range from contempt to pity, but there is no forgiveness in their faces. The magistrate slams down his gavel repeatedly and snarls for silence. The murmur of the crowd relents as the stocky magistrate draws up to his full height, smoothing a silver beard with one hand as he sets down his gavel and focuses on you with shining green eyes. “Jarbin Mord. For the brutal and savage slaying of your own wife and six-year-old boy, it is the verdict of this jury, with which I concur wholeheartedly, that you shall hang by your neck until dead. May the gods take mercy on your blackened soul.” He didn't know who this was, who he was, or what he had become; yet before he could even begin to question it, the world blackened once again, shifting to another sight, another vision...

✥✥✥

"Blessed be... thy torment"
"Bound to the cadaver of the righteous"
"Our dutiful dead"
"With vigour I blind my sight"
"Tranquil I resign my fate"
"Willing I cut my loins"
"For you have bled for us"
"You have died for us"

A clack of wood on wood is followed by a whip crack of rope drawing taut. The crunch of vertebrae echoes off the walls. A man’s booted feet twitch freakishly as his last breath rasps from his ruined throat in a choking death rattle. You suddenly realize the man is you, and you look down in horror at your own twitching legs. The crowd jeers with delight and laughs as you rasp your last. The pain and agony of the violent end wracking mind and body, a vision just long enough to allow you the full experience of death before the blackness of the nothingness which followed could swallow you whole.

✥✥✥

"Fu Inlé; these clouds bode ill"
"From the earth we ran out"
"That eve, that heralded night"

"In those quiet hours"
"where the Elil ruled"
"The sky, the ground, our thoughts"
"We prayed for pity"
"but received none"
"We gasped for breath"
"But no breath came"

A hulking man is hunched over in this dark dreary corridor of cold flagstone, his back to you. His right hand works feverishly, sawing away at something unseen with a blood-slick shortsword as he gibbers: “Show me the way, Sashrala, you can do it. Use your magic to show me out of here. I love you. I love you so much. Just please show me the way!” With a final wet snap of sinew, blood pools at the man’s feet and he hefts the gory head of a beautiful elven woman. “Thank you, Sashrala. I love you.” The man cries and laughs at once as he kisses her still-working lips and then thrusts her head forward like a lantern. The poor woman’s eyes still blink in disbelief; you get the horrid sense she can still see as her mouth trembles out a vain and silent plea for mercy. Her body lies in a pool of blood flowing freely from her hacked neck. Her right arm is outstretched, her finger pointing toward something beyond the darkness.

✥✥✥

Slowly, the vision fades away as you return to consciousness, but the sight that greets you is almost as disturbing. The dying gray light of sunset peeks through slits in the boarded windows, barely illuminating a yawning courtroom replete with pews and a towering bench covered in cobwebs. A shadowed mural on the domed ceiling above depicts Iomedae in her shining plate mail of gilded sunlight, locked in mortal combat with Norgorber, Calistria, and Asmodeus, holding the trifecta of evil at bay with her shining sword. You find yourself in a jurors’ box, and you are not alone. In the other chairs, figures stir in the darkness, each emerging from troubling dreams into a new nightmare.

[forg99rules]

Sitting up Yiafa rubs the side of her head, she doesn't completely understand what she just saw but it isn't the first time she has had some sort of vision. As she commits this vision to memory, she holds down the bile that slowly starts creeping up her throat. Standing to her feet she pulls out a waterskin and her Ioun Torch, tossing the torch into the air for it to start floating around her head, she pulls the cork from the waterskin and takes a drink from it while she takes a better look around at her surroundings.

"Alright, could be in a worse situation I guess... Wonder what is going on here, hell I wonder where here even is."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Autohypnosis to commit the visions to memory
(1d20+7)[20]

Perception of the area (darkvision 60ft)
(1d20+9)[20]

Ioun Torch is floating around my head, also taking a drink of water to wash down the bile.

[Mornings]

Though the light of her stone wasn't enough to completely illuminate the room, she could see beyond the darkness and around her. It was a court room. Each pew of the jury's box filled by a rather unique assembly of peoples. A dwarf, halfling, some humans, half orc, and a menacing looking hobgoblin wider in the chest than she was tall. A gleaming red eye from the large monstrous creature caught her as he seemed to regain his senses. His voice resounded with a firm but clear annunciation befitting his kind, "...Out with the light, shorty. I'm gonna go blind." The others about her, placed within the pews seemed to similarly awaken with a start. Worrisome looks darted about, the courtroom. A shortman with a rough and bruised face, accompanied by a long-healed broken nose burst into laughter. The dried crusting paint on his cheeks and bells from coxcomb jingled as he burst into a laughter "Hahaha, its real its real!" A courtly looking man rubbed his eyes, stern with gray hair and cleanly shaven face "Ugh, what are you babbling about, what's real?" The little man clapped his hands as if he had just been invited to play a game. "Oh, well telling you would be no fun, if all is done. How about a riddle? The Pretty Father made all the girlies swoon; he came after the fifth moon. Grisdom cradles Sashrala's head, with light in mouth he is led; to our only answe-..." Before he could finish, the backhand of the massive hobgoblin came around and collided with his face with a bloody crack. "Shut your mouth Ebin, before I take your other teeth..." The little man convulsed in his seat from the blow; it was true he was missing teeth...

The hobgoblin rose from his seat, standing at his full and towering height, his narrow eyes scanning the room. "This place is cursed... We need to leave, now."


Yiafa's keen eyes caught the small trails where their bodies had evidently been dragged along. It had already begun to be covered over with the falling dust from this old and forgotten place. They had been left here for a long time.

[forg99rules]

Yiafa smirks at the Hobgoblin, in a condescending tone "A little light like this won't cause you to go blind, or have hobgoblins fallen to the point where such a thing could happen?". Putting away her waterskin, she takes a deep breath and calls forth her astral suit, a slight shimmering quickly covers her skin before it fades. Able to now see better with her suit on she makes her way to the drag marks and bends down to inspect them closer. "Looks like we were brought in here sometime ago, Wonder why..." she ponders outloud while taking another look around the room with her newly acquired vision. Turning her attention to the man the hobgoblin just hit, "How about you stop with the riddles and tell me whats going on, hell how about you explain why your talking about the damned vision i had before waking up."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Swift
Activate my Suit and call up my Astral Skin, This increases Dex by +4, movement by +10 and Darkvision

Move action
Put away waterskin

Move action
Move to where i did...

Perception of the area again
(1d20+9)[13]

[Mornings]

The hobgoblin snorted and looked at the halfling curiously. "I like you, shorty. Try not to end up hanging by the neck with the rest of em..." A human woman gasped sharply, "Malgrim!" His steely gave sung around to meet the well figured woman. "What? It ain't no secret, everyone knows the bad **** that happened here." Yiafa had heard that name before... Malgrim, it was quiet famous, but she just couldn't quite remember why...

Spoiler: Malgrim - DC10 Knowledge Local or History

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One of the most powerful (and most wanted) criminals in the city. A fearsome crime-lord in Absalom well known for his bloody reputation.

Spoiler: DC15 Knowledge Local or History

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DC 15 Knowledge (local) check reveals Malgrim's infamous reputation as a bloodthirsty killer who runs a gang called the Grindle Street Shades. He is a fearsome cutthroat with a reputation for garroting— with his spiked chain—any who cross him.

As the halfling speaks of her visions, a sudden and uniform look of dread creeps across the entire procession of would-be jurors, all except Malgrim. His face was hard, his eyes were calculating as they beat down on the halfling from above, thinking, calculating how best to deal with the short woman. (Sense Motive 15) The failed-jester, Ebin, sprung up from his seat as he was addressed before the hobgoblin quickly turned in his direction and pointed at him with a stern outstretched finger - the rest of them averted their gaze at the halflings words (Sense Motive 10)

Spoiler: Sense Motive

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The crowd of strangers evidently knows one another, and are withholding information...

The massive hobgoblin crouched down next to Yiafa, opening a golden case of cigars which wafted with a quality and fragrance she had never before smelled. (Knowledge: History / Appraise - DC13) "We, don't talk about that, shorty. Don't know what you saw, not sure I much believe it either. There hasn't been a real oracle since Aroden kicked the bucket, at least, as far as I remember... That's right, right... Sir Rekkart" The last bit was directed at the gray haired knight who had spoken previously, his gaze was leveled at the floor now with a spiritless demeanor "Yes, that's right... Vision's stopped coming to those divinely gifted after The Last Azlanti perished from this world." The Hobgoblin shoved the smoke into his mouth, with something of an unamused and grim expression, lighting a tinder twig and igniting the tobacco. "Rekkart is an old paladin, for whatever that's worth, but he knows about this kinda nonsense. You know what that means, shorty? Means if you saw some vision, it aint from no god, 'least not one known by mortal folk." He took a deep draw from the smoke, exhaling a puff of smoke between them. " This place is haunted. Haunted like you wouldn't believe. Good men, bad man, some men in between. Women, children, and less. Some of my boys, and some I put here. Lotta good boys met their end at the crack of the rope just like... " He paused, catching himself. "...Like you, if you idle here too long." He passed the cigar over to Yiafa, "You seem good at tracking, if you can find a way out of this place before it pulls out ya' guts from your throat, i'd be much obliged. The alternative is rather..." He looked at the rest of them, some of which were regaining their senses fully. "...You might call it, a 'profound solution'."

Spoiler: Knowledge History/Appraise

Show

She knew what those were—Julan cigars harvested from the once-rich tobacco fields of the Sodden Lands long before they were washed away by the eye of Abendego. Each one was something of a treasure in its own regard, worth a small fortune.

A creek and moan shifted through the room, the air felt like it had suddenly grown heavy. The hobgoblin's eyes slowly scanned about the room's ceiling. "Ah..... ****." The dwarf on the pews shook his head, finally seeming to regain his sense of balance as he hopped up from the bench. “You don’t fear lads, Old Tablark’s seen more ghosts than these walls ’ave rats. Nothing to quake about. We’ll send this foul spirit a’packin’ or me clan name ain’t Hammergrind!” A child's laughter filled the room, the laughter of a young boy. "****, ****, ****ing hell. We don't got much time left." His gaze shifted towards the last wanning rays of dusk as the sun crested in a blaze of orange from between the boarded windows outside. The dwarf visibly flinched, but didn't loose an ounce of his bluster.

An eerie whisper filled Yiafa's ear, far too low to be heard by anyone else. They seek to escape justice. But justice will be met... She knew that voice, it was Temily... Temily was here, somewhere. A looming sense of dread begun to fill her as the rays of light begun to diminish.

[forg99rules]

Yiafa's eye go wide at the mention of Malgrim, she can't believe that she is actually standing in front of a criminal as dangerous as him. Seeing the mood suddenly shift at her mention of the visions she had, she glares at Halgrim as she felt he had contemplated killing her. She isn't happy about being left out of the loop, these people know each other and know whats going on "Why are they not telling me whats going on, whats the big damn secret."

As she continues to glare at Malgrim she listens intently to whats being said, she started pondering what Halgrim said just before the creek and moan shifted throughout the room. The sudden declarations from both the dwarf calling himself Tablark and from Halgrim put her even more on edge, standing back up she lets her powers flow down her left arm summoning forth a fiendish looking claw from her gauntlets the blue and black swirling slowly as if stirred by some unknown force. Hearing Temily's voice in this place didn't make any sense to her, "It can't be, Temily... How is she here, where is she?" Looking back at Halgrim, "If we don't have much time left then lets start going, someone can fill me in while we get out of this place, and please don't try acting like all of you aren't aware of whats going on it is fairly obvious that you all know each other as well as know where we are. Besides, if I have an idea of whats happened and where we are then I may be able to find the exit faster. Hopefully along the way we can find Temily, since it seems shes here somehow."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Move
Activate Fiends grip on 1 hand

[Mornings]

The short man, Ebin he was called, sprung off his seat and begun pulling at the planks on the window. His short stature and feeble arms went taught trying to pull a securely fastened wooden two-by-four from the window's frame. The shock seemed to slowly be wearing off from those in the room. A sobbing suddenly sprung out from the extremely attractive looking halfling who had been staring idly at the dusty floor. Her face was buried in her hands, but her woes did little to detract from her rather sculpted physique. Tablark placed a hand on her shoulder comfortingly. "Don't fret lass, i'll keep da spooks away." The halfling's pained face looked up at the dwarf, "...I never wanted to see any of you again. We should have never seen each other again. Can't you see? Can't you see why he brought us? ....We're all going to die here." The dwarf wrapped his stout arms around the girl, "Madge, girl, What are'ye sayin. We're gonna get through this." A loud hollow clanging resounded throughout the room as a plank came flying off the wall and Ebin fall backwards on his butt from pushing off the wall with both feet. He squealed oddly in joy at his success before springing to his feet. Taking the wooden plank he broke the glass then through it outside before diving out after it... They didn't hear anything after, only a long period of silence.

The half-orc in the corner sat unmoving, shaking in his seat. He was still donned in his apron, with hammer at his side. An apparent smith of sorts. The last gleams of light flickered and begun to die. The walls and interior of the place begun to drastically change and shift, as if caught in some otherworldly transformation. The walls begun to learn and moan. The paint and plaster cracked, popped, splintered and aged into a crumbling marvel revealing the chipped marble. The wood rotted and bloated from some nameless and evil corruption left to fester. The stains of rainwater from perhaps a once-recent downpour decades past, mixed with the mulch and oozed from ruptures and cracks in the once-whole rock walls of the floor and walls like pus frothing froth from a wound. The supports buckled and distorted causing the structure to appear on the verge of collapse. The sour ring of a tarnished bell croaked painfully, shaking the dust from the sagging supports above. The support pillars surface ran full with cracks and meandering fissures like a depiction of burst veins. The doors groaned and wept, bloating before set to sag in their archways, drooping like the eyes of a madman. With the last flickering beads of light came the salt wind blowing through the stained broken glass of the window, where throngs of choking weeds spontaneously overgrew the threshold to pour unto the floor, black and rotten. With each gust of air, the whole of the building groaned, its tortured lamentation fading to a rasping hiss as the wind ebbed. The croaking murmur never completely subsided. The last flicker of twilight painted the interior of the courthouse blood red for a brief flash, before the darkness descended.

---

Time Remaining: 1 Hour

---

Malgrim's eye remained steely as the darkness settled in, and the courthouse transformed into its nightmarish new form. "Malgrim! The door, right now!" The fine looking woman, who looked like she may have been approaching her middle-age years yet seemed to have remained in exceptional condition seemed to finally find the courage within herself to act. She whipped the tears from her face with shaking hands. "Killian, Sir Rekkart, I apologize for the inconvenience - but I think it safer to stay together, if you would please come with me. I don't think we can stay here a moment longer." She looked at the halfling and the dwarf with tired eyes, "Madge... Take care of Tablark, if something happens to us... You should keep you distance." The halfling nodded. Yiafa felt like the other halfling was familiar somehow;

Spoiler: Madge Blossomheart - Knowledge Local

Show

A DC 15 Knowledge (local) check allows a PC to know Madge as a popular street performer in Abasalom.
A DC 25 result reveals she used to be one half of a father-daughter show with her father Daben, although now she performs solo.

The woman moved off after Malgrim who hustled off, violently ripping open the courtroom gate which was rusted shut with terrifying power and vigor. He made for the door as the woman in red moved after him. The old looking man in all white and white-top hat named Killian gave Yiafa a knowing grin as he wordlessly moved past. Sir Rekkart stopped by the hero as the others begun to set off into motion at the red-woman's encouraging words. The paladin pretended to fiddle with his armor as he whispered coyly as to not catch the attention of the others; "...Beldrin’s Bluff Courthouse. Your weapon's won't avail... He.... It, cannot die. He'll keep coming, coming until he claims vengeance. I don't understand what you're talking about, I don't think they do either, and you're scaring them. You must have been brought here for another reason... I think you're the key to leaving this place. They can't help an outsider, they can't tell you why we're here, because we did this to ourselves; but you're innocent. You have to make it out of this place, before it's too late." After finishing his equipment check, he unsheathed his gleaming golden sword and moved off with the others.

"He's right you know... They did this to themselves."

Temily's voice sounded again, this time from behind herself as everyone departed.

"They aren't your friends. They die here, all of them. If you follow them in their frantic desperation, you'll die too. I can only give you an hour, sister. Then I can afford you no favor, or leniency. He seeks revenge, and I will bring the justice my father could not. Bring the guilty to justice, or be punished with them all. The Children of Inlé will listen to you. Use their blessings and overcome this task, or be lost to me forever."

A ghostly hand stroked her hair, then left her along in the quivering groan of the buildings cry, and the grunts of Malgrim hammering the door to open the portal. The young boy's giggling filled the room once again, the air begun to fill with an unnatural chill.

[forg99rules]

Yiafa watched as the group sprung into action, nodding to the paladin as he gave her what little explanation he could. The whispers from Temily gave her little reassurance as it seemed that she was now on a time table that if she didn't meet would end up in her death. The thought of dying without finding Temily spurred her into action, she needed to get out fast and it seemed that the others here wanted the same thing. Making her way over to the door that Malgrim was currently working on getting open she starts to assist him in getting the door open all while trying to ignore the giggles of the young boy that was filling the room.

"Alright, well looks like this place isn't gonna differentiate between me and you guys. So I might as well help find a way out."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Moving to infront of the Door

Swift action to use Strength of hell +2 atk, +1d6 damage

Use Flurry Strike to hit it twice (weapons considered Magical)
(1d20+12)[25]
Damage (2d6+6)[10]

(1d20+12)[23]
Damage (2d6+6)[10]

[Mornings]

The hobgoblin grunted in affirmation as Yiafa moved to the door he was working on trying to slam open. "...And that... Would be... The first sensible thing you've said" The bloated doors had expanded wider than the door-frames had been built to allow. The halfling's blows shook the wooden barrier but didn't seem to be enough to cause the portal to fail beneath the assault. "Don't know what we're going to find waiting behind this door, but the longer we wait the worse it'll be. If you get one of those weird visions or whatever, you know, like something going to rip off my face... Feel free to let me know." A sharp fissure raced up the door and it sharply budged from its place.

The room suddenly flickered, like a veil of static filled the halfling's vision. A thick miasma choked the air and blocked her vision. No one was with her. She was alone... or perhaps she had been, but a man now stood in the doorway - the ruined doors they had been beating upon just moments before were completely missing from their hinges. The man, dressed in filth-slick dark rags was tall and ugly. His lazy eye rolled in his head and one lip seemed to pull slightly upward. His entire skull seemed to hang to the side from his broken neck, rotting rope from the length of the still firmly placed noose dangled about to the floor. Yiafa didn't know who he was, but she knew she had seen him, she knew who he had been. Her gaze dropped to the man's feat, the same feet which had once been hers, kicking and freakishly twitching in foul manner when they hung her from the gallows. The guttural hissing rasp which scratched down his throat and crawled out of his mouth like so many spiders from his ruined larynx, were words. A name; Jarbin... Mord...

The world abruptly crashed back into the present as the doors flung open beneath Malgrim's heavy body crashing into the loosened wooden barrier. But his face was suddenly filled with absolute and indescribable horror, his lips peeled back in a silent terrified scream as the looming figure from her sudden vision awaited them on the other side. A cackling rasping laughter sounded like stones scattered across broken marble floor. His massive moist pale hand lashed out like a serpent, grasping the hobgoblin by his face and ripping him into the darkness on the other side. The doors violent shut with a resounding slam in front of their faces. Malgrim's screams could be heard on the other side, moving further away. Rekkart slammed into the door with all his might screaming "MORD!, MORD! DON'T DO IT! MORD!" The half-orc blacksmith behind them bolted away in terror.

[forg99rules]

The vision and having seen Malgrim being taken did nothing to help her mood, she had to think quick if she was to survive. Reaching into her pack she pulled out her crowbar, "Who the hell is this Jarbin Mord dude? Can he be killed?" hefting the crowbar up she starts working on opening up the door, "Once this is open get ready to move through, wouldn't want it to close behind me and trap yall in here."

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Getting my crowbar out

Strength check to open the door
(1d20+5)[19]

Once open i will move through, will also perception the new room.
(1d20+9)[22]

[Mornings]

Yiafa's crowbar burst the old rotten wooden door open with a thud before diving through. The woman in red paused as the halfling spoke, perhaps too much as she often did. "Where... how do you know that- " Her words were abruptly ended as the doors slammed shut behind as Madge, Rekkart and old Tablark dove through the door. The halfling, Madge, turned around and beat on the door as the half-orc's screams sounded from the other side, followed by a rocking quake as something massive and heavy came crashing down. It sounded as if the entire ceiling had suddenly hit the floor. "Patrissa, Killian! Are you alright!" The scuttling of steps could be heard followed by a young boys laughter. "Desna, curse them... What is this." Rekkart pointed off into the darkness where Malgrim could be seen being dragged off in the distance by coiling tendrils of hemp and twisted darkness following the shadow of the figure. The hobgoblin's streams still rung off the walls as he clawed at the ground with bloodied hands.

The paladin motioned to spring after them, but his motion was cut short as an old grandfather clock in the far end of the room gonged in a distorted tune. The reverberation of the sound shook threw each of them, causing them each to tremble and twitch in place. Shadows danced wildly all about, a familiar axe-wielding figure Yiafa had seen once before came crashing down the halls like some hollow specter of undefined shadowstuff. An undefined silhouette of a figure's profile baring a large intimidating felling blade, he hacked at them wildly, accosting them with visions of blood - wandering aimlessly in darkness baring an elven woman's head, whose mouth held a candle's flame, like some sort of macabre lantern. Show me the way, Sashrala. Show me the way. The words rung in her mind like a chorus of maddening bells.

Spoiler: The Haunt in the Great Hall

Show

DC15 Will Save or (2d4)[8] Wisdom Damage

[forg99rules]

Looking back and noticing that only three others had made it through a frown finds Yiafa's face. Speaking to the woman in red as she continued towards Halgrim "Does it really matter how I know?". Flinching slightly at the distorted tune coming from the grandfather clock she tries her best to ignore the shadowstuff that washes over her as she continues her way forward trying to save Halgrim. Dismissing her fiends grip she rips off one of the vials of holy water and chucks it at Halgrim hoping that it may save his life.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Moved...

Dismissed Fiends Grips

Yanked holy water off my Adventures Sash

Tossing it at Halgrims square
(1d20+5)[8]

[Mornings]

The vial of glass broke on the hobgoblin's face dousing him in a burst of holy water. A hiss and squeal from the animated ropes and shadowy tendrils filled the hall as the ghastly figure vanished from sight. The paladin, Rekkart, rushed forward to pull the ropes off the soaked criminal, the black cords of darkness had melted away into a thick and foul smelling sludge. Rekkart had no love for the irredeemable Malgrim, but no one deserved to die in pain and terror in this horrible haunted place. The knight was about to kneel down and assist the disheveled creature before suddenly backing away covering his face, gagging "Ghack, Iomedae's Light.... the smell!" The paladin cursed. Malgrim shuddered before finally loosing a portion of his own stomach's contents, vomiting on the floor as he peeled the coagulating grime from his face with a look of absolute revulsion. Struggling to pull himself out from the pool of nameless filth he slowly took to his feet, a depiction of misery. Having confronted his own inevitable death had visibly taken a toll on the large creature. The halfling, Madge, clung closely to Yiafa for support.

"I owe you one, shorty... and Malgrim Hurkes always pays his debts in full."


Now that things had begun to settle, Yiafa could get a clearer picture of the chamber...

Eight enormous marble pillars fill this great hall, holding aloft grand balconies. Years of dust cover the floor, and muslin coverings are draped over the railings of baroque staircases curling like lazy serpents up to the raised landings above. A rusted chandelier above sheds the dim light of a few guttering candles. An impressive grandfather clock more than ten feet tall rests against the center of the western wall, its face decorated with guilty souls suffering Asmodeus’ torments: evisceration, force-feasting of coals, scalding blades tearing them apart, and other less savory punishments. The clock stands between a set of impressive oak doors and a lone oak door of equitable splendor, identical to another set across the hall. The largest set of doors is at the south end of this long hall. They are barred against the night.

[forg99rules]

Plugging her nose to block out the smell, Yiafa smiles at Malgrim "Couldn't just let you die like that, you seem like you could be more useful in escaping this place if you were alive as opposed to dead." Having looked around the room she points to the doors that are bared against the night, "Now I assume those doors lead to the outside? I assume we can't just open it up and walk out the front, so is there any other way to get out of here?" While taking another look around the room she pulls out her Haunt detector and takes a look at it.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Just another perception check I guess... see if I missed anything in the room.

(1d20+9)[28]

[Mornings]

The paladin stepped away from the hobgoblin again still masking his face and coughing. It was a horrid and wilting stench that physically burned the eyes and constricted the throat. Malgrim looked just as befouled as he smelt occasionally lurching as if about to vomit again. He poured water from a flask over himself and cast aside his own tainted shirt just to lessen the smell. It did little to diminish the smell. The grotesque miasma of decay and filth was magical in nature... "...A curse... and a petty one at that." The paladin could easily identify the evil aura which hung over the crimelord. "Guh, anything that I should be concerned with? ...Aside from the smell." Rekkart shook his head. "No, it should pass with enough time. This evil magic seems more to harass and befoul victims and loved ones alike with this horrid cloud of decay. I imagine it would be more effective upon a corpse." Tablark held his arm across his face, "Smells like'a bloody field'a dead gob's that shat 'emselves." Malgrim sneered at the old dwarf, "...Yes, thank you for that acute observation, dwarf." Madge pretended not to notice, but was evidently distressed as she held her breath between words. "Well... At least you're alive. Right?"

Yiafa's detector seemed to react to a pressence in the north of the grand hall which led to the stairs and the ruined central space between them where the ground was shattered and crumbling; then again in the direction of the haunting clock. Madge pulled closer to Yiafa, her soft arms finding a way around her arm, "...What's that? Some kind of ghost-alarm?" The hobgoblin grinned to himself, trying to feign a look unfazed by his own condition. "Not too far off... My acquaintances in the Dark Archive carry similar tools... You must have quite the interesting... vocation to be carrying around tools like that while being abducted." The old dwarf also looked on at Yiafa with a hopeful glint in his eye betraying his own sense of unease at the near loss of their group's strongest fighter, "Aye, girl. Ya happen to hunt ghosts and the like? Ya know'a way outta this hole? ...What happen' teh Ebin? It didn't look like he escaped nowhere." The dwarf was full of questions, but he wasn't full of what they needed the most;

The old dwarf pulled out a pocket watch chained to his vest, tapping the thing. "Well... that's odd"

Time.

Spoiler: Malgrim's Stench

Show

Creatures too close to the hobgoblin must succeed a DC16 fortitude save or become sickened. This effect lasts as long as the creature remains in this aura, and persists for 1 round thereafter. Creatures who end their turn in this zone succeed must attempt this save each round.

This effect persists for (3d6)[16] minutes

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Time Remaining: 40 minutes

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[forg99rules]

Looking at Halgrim, "Not really my Vocation that led to me having this, I just prefer to be prepared for almost every scenario... of course I don't have a map of this place so I am not as prepared as I would life to be." Raising her eyebrow at the old dwarf, "Are you really asking me if I know the way out of a place that I have never been, not mentioning the fact I just asked you all if you knew how to get out of here?" Shaking her head and looking back to her Haunt detector, "all i can say for sure at the moment is that we don't want to go over there." pointing towards the north area of the grand hall, "And we should probably stay away from the Clock as well, I am detecting something at both locations."

Hearing the dwarf mention that something was odd she addresses him again, "What exactly is Odd? Care to share that at least?"

[Mornings]

Tablark looked at the watch's face again, then at Yiafa, then back at the clock again honestly perplexed. "It's me watch, it skipped ahead about em', twenty minutes." The hobgoblin shrugged, "Maybe it's just junk." The dwarf looked radically offended, his face screwed up bitterly. "Now, I'll be havin' you know, hob, this be some of the finest dwarven tinkerin' on this side of the Inner Sea. This 'ere watch don't skip like it has some ol' broken bits inside. It adjusts to 'true time'. If you move far enough, or get shat out on'a 'nother plane, it'll give you accurate time still! Only one explanation, an' that's that we lost'a good chunk'a time from crossing da' door teh' 'ere. This ol' place must be all twisted up an' such to da' point even time don't know where teh go." He looked to the halfling, "I might'a gotten abit ahead'a myself, but we don't much know nothin' bout ya, lass. You pullin' out ghost alarms and askin' how teh escape from da' ghost-house. Honestly, can't much tell what'cha holdin' out on, an' what'cha dun know in earnest. All I do know, is that ye' best be choose'en ya' doors very carefully, or ye' might right end up where da' ol' hob's standin'." Malgrim shook his head, "This is ridiculous..." Rekkart seemed to be deep in thought.

The halfling holding Yiafa's arm tugged on her sleeve. "I don't really have a map... but I did know this place, em. Back when it was still a courthouse."

[forg99rules]

Yiafa frowned at Tablark's explanation, if time was going all wonky in this house then its possible that the Hour she initially thought she had wouldn't matter if she stepped through a door. Noticing Rekkart was deep in thought she turned her attention to the halfling that was clinging to her. "Well if you knew this place when it was a courthouse then maybe you could get tell me if there was another exit besides the front door, or hell is there a secret exit hidden somewhere in here that most wouldn't know of?"

[Mornings]

Madge looked at the Halfling with a blank expression. "Um, well... The front door, the windows perhaps from the second floor, since one side collapsed and is close to the ground. The basement doesn't have any exits... but I don't think it would matter much, honestly. No one's escaped this place after nightfall... Not even Grisdom." The last words came out as a muffled whisper almost too low to hear. (DC15 Perception)

[forg99rules]

Her brow furrowed at the mention of Grisdom, she had heard that name before. "Grisdom? The same one that the crazy person whom jumped out the window mention?" taking a moment to think what about what the man had said, "He mentioned someone named Sashrala as well, course in the sense of a head being a lantern... Odd that he mentioned her name, I have heard it once before." Yiafa takes in the others reaction to the names she mentions, trying to gauge their reactions and see whom might know more.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Sense Motive to gauge their reactions
(1d20+6)[10]

[Mornings]

Rekkart's expression was far too complicated too read, he quietly averted his gaze. Madge took a glance at Malgrim and released Yiafa's arm. The hobgoblin looked like he'd turned a shade of red, evidently irked by the name. The dwarf on the other hand seemed to have the opposite reaction, crossing his arms. "Aw, don't get yer' pannies' in'a twist, hob. Ye damn near joined 'em'a minute ago. Erryone liked da' priest, even da' bastards who 'ated him. He wouldn't'a came 'ere, if he had known what'all lay buried beneath these ol' stones, he would'a thought twice bought it."

[forg99rules]

Yiafa didn't like the reactions that she got from those present, she didn't completely understand what had happened here. All she had to go on was the three visions she had and of those three visions she now knew that one of them was about grisdom. "What exactly lays burried under these stone? Does it have something to do with the hanging that happened? And who was Sashrala, I am guessing she meant something to Grisdom from what I saw."

[Mornings]

The dwarf snorted, "Hangin'? Think ya' meanin' hangings, lass. Lots more than one neck found its way into da' Hangman's Noose, even the hangman himself when all was said an' done." Malgrim scoffed, "Best you leave it at that dwarf." The stout man crossed his arms, "Ya thinkin' it makes'a lick'a difference? Ya smell would suggest otherwise, hob. He ain't gonna stop no matter what'ya do or don't say. There ain't no takin' back what'cha can't take back."

Marge released Yiafa's arm, turning and bolting off into the darkness. "Yes, why not tell her what you cannot take back. What cannot be forgiven. The unforgivable. The secret. The truth." The voice sounded like it belonged to a child, a creeping shadow crawled along the floor on the other side of the room, slowly shifting into an expressionless shambling mound of black limbs pulling itself along the floor. "....By the gods... by the gods! " The paladin managed to stammer, but Tablark and Malgrim had gone as ridged as stone

(DC 15 WI'll Save vs 1 round paralyze)