Dark's Age of Worms IC

[Tychris1]

Furiously stamping out the smoldering embers with her heels Cordellia whipped around with her rapier to examine the broken bones and tarnished room as Louise was tended to by Simone.

”You do fine work, love.” Cordellia cooed as she glanced back at the Cleric “Three Skeletons and a tiny undead pixie thing. This sojourn into an observatory quickly transformed from a rescue mission into a full blown crusade. I’ve half a mind to burn this unsightly tower to the ground.”

Spoiler: Searching!

Show

Hiyah!:(1d20+6)[24]

[TheDarkDM]

Louise's wounds begin to close as Pelor's magics flow through her body, jagged spurts of arterial flow cauterized beneath angry, puckered scars. Her clothes covered in her own life's blood, the older woman's eyes flicker open, and she returns to consciousness with a queasy lurch. In the room above, the last skeleton falls to Reynauld's maul, the Crusader's body tensing with iron power even as his heart rate begins to subside. Cordellia manages to stamp out the last embers from her spell before they become a concern, and makes a thorough sweep of the room. While there is little of value in the thicket of debris blocking the floor, the skeleton's bulwark holds a small arsenal. Each holds a heavy crossbow, while on the ground at their feet are haphazard boxes with a pair of additional ammunition (save the newly-loaded crossbow), along with dented but functional scimitars. Examining the bones, Cordellia has the nagging feeling there is something she is missing, perhaps some hint that would require a greater understanding of the skeletal system to uncover.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise had barely had any time to react as the crossbow bolts pierced her torso, falling quickly into unconsciousness as they pierced major arteries. Through the quick thinking of the team, however, Simone's efforts to cure her came scant seconds before she would have completely bled out, and as the wounds knit themselves back together, Louise fluttered her eyes open.

"Ugh... Yes... yes, I hear you, Simone. Thank the gods you got to me, I was right at the end of the tunnel..."

Painfully, she hauled herself back to her feet, wobbling unsteadily for a second and still grimacing with pain.

"Okay. Note to self: Don't just randomly push open the door after you check it for traps. That was majorly stupid." She shook her head, still trying to get the cobwebs out of her mind. "Was anyone else hurt? Dear me, my novicehood is showing."

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld pulled a slightly-charred heavy crossbow from the dead hands of a skeleton, brushing flakes of carbon off and testing the pull of the string. He shoved a quiver of unspent bolts into his belt as well.

As Louise came to, the crusader gave her a nod.
"Don't thank the gods, Ms. Louise: thank Pelor," he said, not unkindly.

His square jaw settled into a scowl.
"Necromancers," he spat.

"If these bones were the Land family we're still missing one. If you're well enough to stand Ms. Louise I'd just as soon see this place cleared. Let us find the remaining member of the Land family and punish whoever is responsible for this desecration."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Once we're ready Reynauld will take the lead and proceed down the exit hall.

[PepperP.]

Simone

Simone quietly studied the bones as Reynauld claimed his prize.

"Looks like they were victims of the Red Death. Little sister is still missing. Let's find her and set her to rest."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

"I'm well enough to stand... although I hope you don't mind if I keep to the middle or rear of the marching order. One good hit and I'm back to bleeding out again."

[TheDarkDM]

Mostly recovered from their rude welcome, the party presses on. Testing the door leading out of the area, Reynauld finds it unlocked and mercifully untrapped, as it opens to reveal a long L-shaped corridor. Facing him to the north are four tightly-packed doors, identical in size, while another larger portal stands at the end of the hallway to his left. Moving to where the hall curves around the skeleton's antechamber, the crusader discovers a final door waiting in the darkness. For all the furor of the battle moments before, the tower now stands totally silent.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

"Well, considering our options... if no-one else objects, I say we start with the nearest door," Louise pointed to the one closest to the right, "and work our way to the left."

She then carefully searched the door for traps, but was studiously careful to not open it or touch anything, as well as to move back to the middle of the marching order before letting someone else open the door if no traps were to be found.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Louise will take 20 each on Search, Spot, and Listen for 29, 27, and 23.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld moved to volunteer to open the doors, putting his armored bulk in front of anyone at risk of getting shot. He kept his eyes and ears peeled for danger, keeping his sunrod and trusty maul close at hand.

[TheDarkDM]

Testing the easternmost door, Louise discerns neither traps nor locks, and when Reynauld opens the door she is proven right. Past the threshold, this simple chamber hosts a plain bed, a small open footlocker, and an unremarkable wooden dresser. Everything is coated in a thick layer of dirt, silent testament to the tower's long abandonment. The proceeding three doors open onto identical rooms, suggesting some manner of monastic life. If they hold further secrets, they are well hidden. Thus far stymied in their search for answers, the party moves onto the first of the western doors, and unveils a scene of horror.

The revolting stench of rotting flesh roils from the open door. In the room beyond, ten chairs surround an oblong dining table situated parallel to the door. Along the north wall, a wide staircase leads to an upper floor. A wooden door below the stairs presumably leads to a slim chamber. Two doors line the south wall. A sagging antique wooden shelf dominates the west wall, looking like it might collapse at any moment.

Three tall candles on the dining table illuminate a sight of terror. With the exception of the place at the western end, each of the chairs surrounding the table holds an awkwardly seated humanoid figure. The nine bodies are in various stages of decomposition. Some sit with splendid posture, paused as if midway through a sumptuous feast. Others slump treacherously close to the floor. Though they show no sign of reacting to the opened door, every so often one of the corpses twitches strangely or sways in its seat, betraying the perversion of life therein.

Heaping plates of apparently fresh food sit before each of the diners, but the empty place setting features a clean plate and set of utensils. Several bottles of red wine rest upon the table, and each of the corpses sits before a half-finished glass. A fly passes nearby, its there-not-there buzz breaking the eerie silence.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld steeled himself and moved into the macabre dining hall, his jaw set in a deep scowl. Necromancers were bad, but this hinted at something worse: madness, or perversion.

The crusader produced his halberd and experimentally poked at one of the seated bodies with the spear point.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

"So... stay as far away as possible from the food, then."

Moving to the back, Louise took a look at the corpse Reynauld was prodding. Inspired by this, she scanned the table and drew her bow.

"Steel yourselves. This might turn ugly."

She then fired an arrow at the closest corpse that wasn't the one Reynauld was prodding.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Attacking as described above. I will burn inspiration for the attack and, if it hits, for damage.

Attack: (1d20+5)[23]
Damage: (1d6+4)[8]

[TheDarkDM]

Creeping forward, Reynauld's senses are assaulted by the stench of rot as he comes within reach of the macabre dinner party. Stabbing out with his halberd, he skewers the upper thigh of a corpse that might once have been a distinguished gentleman, sending a stream of black ichor spilling to the ground and unleashing a fresh putrescence. Behind him, Louise looses an arrow at another of the undead throng, piercing the corpse's chest above the sternum. There is a spurt of foul-smelling pus and a tumble of angry maggots, but despite the party's preparations the zombies remain sedate in their chairs.

[PepperP.]

Simone

Simone stood silently aghast from her position peeping at the grotesque scene from behind Reynauld's large frame. She jerked herself from her stupor and strode purposely towards the corpse nearest the door.

"Glorious Pelor, I beseech you on behalf of these wretched souls. Deliver them from their suffering. Judge the affrontery that has been hoisted upon them in the repose of death harshly and grant your humble servant the means to bestow the mercy of Your light in Your name." The Cleric murmured her prayer softly as she hoisted her Morningstar and swung it purposefully at the corpse's head.

Spoiler: ooc

Show

Attack the dead guy!
(1d20+2)[13]
Damage
(1d8+1)[5]

[Othniel]

Corinne

"Ugh, how grotesque!" Corinne covered her mouth to ward off the stench as nausea roiled within her stomach.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise recoiled as her arrow split the corpse open and ichor spilled to the floor, desperately trying to surpress the inevitable gagging that came with the destruction of the rotted bodies.

"This... is definitely... not an occupation for the faint of constitution, that much is clear," she said in solidarity to Corrine.

[PepperP.]

Simone

Satisfied she had done her duty unto her Lord, the cleric pointed at one of the doors on the southern wall.

"Left door first? We should be certain that we aren't leaving any undead abominations behind before we move upstairs."

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise nodded.

"Last thing we want is for any actual undead to try and flank us from behind."

She then quickly checked the door for traps and listened for any movement before letting one of the more heavily armored party members breach it.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

20 on Listen, Spot and Search (23, 27, 29).

[TheDarkDM]

Overcome with revulsion, the party moves methodically from chair to chair, hacking and smashing at the macabre scene until the unlife of the zombies has been well and truly banished. The last tremulous echoes of violent exertion fade away, leaving the tower once again in eerie silence. The buzzing of flies is all that follows Louise as she checks the doors leading out from the dining room, finding neither traps nor locks on any of the three. Both southern doors open into the same room, a generous kitchen that once might have fed a dozen people. All it contains now is an enormous wheel of cheese, a moldy loaf of bread, and several strips of stringy cured meat. A door stands closed against the kitchen's western wall. The northern door opens into a simple storage closet, empty save for four extra chairs and eight copper candle stands.

Spoiler: Treasure

Show

In her circuit, Louise notices the gleam of silver on the rotting shelves. A set of surprisingly polished utensils rests there, worth perhaps 200 gp. THe shoddy cutlery in the kitchen might fetch 10 gp in Diamond Lake, while each of the eight candle stands could sell for 5 gp.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Louise pointed out the silver, cutlery, and candleholders as the party passed them by.

"Make sure we grab all of those. Added up, it should get us a whole 290 gold, easily."

Once this was done, she steeled herself.

"Alright. That should be the first floor cleared. Shall we proceed upwards?"

[Tychris1]

Rapier in hand Cordellia took infrequent sips from her polished silver flask and favored Louise a dismissive bob of the hair. ”We’ve a few bases to cover. Come, quickly now, I smell something ravishing perhaps. Or was it ravaging?” She moved gracefully through the kitchen, expertly avoiding glass or mud.

[TheDarkDM]

The door leading out the kitchen opens without incident, revealing a sparse pantry. The shelves are empty save for a few crates of hard tack and dried meat bearing a mark Corinne recognizes as that of the general store in the nearby town of Steaming Springs. Tucked behind the crates are small bags of salt, completing the picture of a diet devoid of depth or creativity. Intent on finishing their circuit of the first floor, the party returns to the outer hall and the last remaining door. Unlike its fellows, this door has warped against its frame, requiring a firm yank from Reynauld to pull it free. Rusty hinges scream in protest, revealing a room that may once have been an office, but stands utterly abandoned save for a desk that sags dangerously in the middle.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

Eyeing the desk carefully, Louise searched it thoroughly.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Take 20 for 29 to see if there's anything in the desk.

[TheDarkDM]

Having ensured no foes waited to ambush them from behind, the party ascends to the second floor. The stairs lead to a massive bedchamber that fills an entire floor of the observatory tower. Light filtering in from the tall windows ringing the chamber catches motes of dust in the calm air. A fine bed with plump red linen sheets squats upon a dais along the southeast cradle of the tower’s arc. A nightstand next to the bed holds a wax-choked candlestick and a black book bound with brown and red leather.

At the midpoint of the eastern wall a strange form stands rigid atop a short wooden stool, as tall as a halfling and clothed in a fine black suit and tophat. Clean cloth bandages wrap every inch of the sentry’s skin. A pair of ash-tinted spectacles rests upon a long skinny nose. The diminutive dandy holds a silver platter as if presenting a meal, and upon the tray rests the freshly preserved severed head of a middle-aged human woman. A platinum piece sits upon her outstretched, purple tongue.

A messy desk rests against the opposite wall, piled high with loose papers. An apparatus holding four long tubes filled with colored liquid peeks out from the clutter. Doors on the north and west walls appear to lead to small closets. Wide stairs along the western wall lead up to the tower's summit. A massive white stone statue of a thin human man with outstretched angelic wings and a beatific look upon his idealized face looms large in the northwest arc of the tower wall. The angel holds a sword in one hand and cradles a harp with the other. The presentation conjures thoughts of mausoleum peaks or the graves of important men. Tall letters etched upon the statue’s base spell out a single word: “Filge.”

[Tychris1]

Bringing a finger up to her lip, Cordellia glowered at each of her companions with a steely resolve, and in hushed yet extravagant strides she walked through the second floor. Rapier in hand she elegantly brushed aside a loose strand of golden locks with the polished cold metal and made for the mysterious black tome.

”It’s his spellbook,” Cordellia remarked in a hushed tone to the others as her twinkling elven eyes scanned the pages with rapt disgust “Full of nothing but useless parlor tricks and macabre rites. Nothing strong enough to animate the dead arbalests from before. Our Filge may have a greater master still.”

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld was teetering somewhere between disgust, anger, and pity.
"We cannot be certain," he said, "But it is more than likely that this 'Filge' caused the death of some of the corpses here. He must be dealt with, to answer for these perversions."

He was ready to proceed as soon as the others were, maul at the ready.

[Lord Of Mantas]

Louise

"Let us retrieve that platinum piece, first. It's a grisly thing, but... waste not, want not."

Retrieving her 10-foot pole, Louise attempted to nudge the piece off the tongue of the severed head.

[Tychris1]

Cordellia shook her head and protruded her tongue in gagging disgust at Louise’s act before gently closing the spellbook. Stowing it away for future destruction she began to casually yet studiously saunter around the room examining it.

[TheDarkDM]

Assured by Simone that no undead lurked in the room, Louise and Cordellia turn their attentions to the large desk against the western stairs. Most of the papers on the desk concern surgical procedures apparently intended to enhance the potency of undead, though most contain only the meandering scribbles of a mind descending into madness. Buried in with the junk is some manner of arcane scroll and a six-hole beaker holder containing four 6-inch-long tubes filled with different-colored liquids. The glass tubes are sealed at the top with a rubber sheath, and look like they are meant to be slotted into some other device. In the periphery of Louise's vision, something within the beakers seems to move slightly, but on closer examination they seem harmless. Perhaps it was a trick of the eye. A handwritten label on the beaker holder says “Necroturgons.” Buried among the various papers as well is a flattened scroll of distinctly expensive parchment, bearing handwriting that is distinct from the other mad ravings. It reads:

Filge,

I need you in Diamond Lake, my boy. The cult situation has grown worse. Deep within Dourstone Mine they're studying things brought in from the southern hills. Green worms and unkillable zombies. I nicked one of the worms for you to study.

I'll put you up in the old observatory. Show this letter to the big white half-orc at the Feral Dog. He'll help you get settled. I trust you'll find these coins sufficient to cover your travel from the Free City.

- S.

The contents of the desk fully explored, Louise turns her attentions to the rest of the room. Her trained eye catches sight of several potential valuables, but the platinum piece draws her attention first. Hefting her ten-foot pole and moving the party well behind her, she reaches out to shove the coin free. It slides off the bloated tongue with a slick plop, but as it falls a wail goes up from the head's open mouth.

"INTRUDER! INTRUDER! INTRUDER!"

Spoiler: Treasure

Show

The desk contains an unidentified arcane scroll and four unidentified potions in odd vials.

The rug on the floor is clearly expensive, though some study would be required to identify its origin and ultimate value. The black suit on the mummified goblin seems equivalent to a small noble's outfit, while the spectacles on its nose are distinct enough to deserve a closer look. The silver tray holding the severed head would likely be worth 50 gp if properly sanitized.

[CockroachTeaParty]

Reynauld stomped up to the shrieking head and smashed it off the tray like a gruesome softball with his maul. He then made for the stairwell up.
"Let's go!" said the crusader as he prepared for whatever grim sight awaited him at the observatory's apex.