RC's Carrion Hill IC

[DrK]

Elthis

The alchemist pauses, a blood smeared hand poised in its search for answers as he see's the carnage wrought by the beast. "Beware my friends, this beast is strong and powerful. I do not fancy dancing blades with such a thing" again he gives the metal sphere a welcoming sphere, it would be a day for pyrotechnics he felt. As the survivor is uncovered he smiles weakly, "A blessing from the Lady of Chance" as he steps back to let the others fuss over the small victim.

Looking past Jochen he'll ask the others, "Shall we ready for the hunt? But beware"

[RCgothic]

Zuri

"Dragged things away, you say? Aye, that's the worst part, missy! Like puppets on twisted strings, the beast yanked folks back down with those slimy tentacles. Screamin' somethin' awful they were! Didn't stop till they were outta sight, back in that blasted hole it crawled out of. Now, I couldn't see clear in all the chaos, mind you, but some folks swear they saw the beast stuffin' them into its gullet, whole and wrigglin'! Nasty business, the whole lot of it! Makes a man wonder what kind of hunger could drive somethin' that size to swallow folks alive!"

Tarrig shudders over-dramatically, his eyes wide with a mixture of fear and a hint of morbid fascination. Behind him, Sergeant Corvus rolls his eyes so hard they nearly disappear into his hairline, then lets out a barely audible scoff and shakes his head slowly.

---

Spoiler: Jochen

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Holding off on a reply for the moment until other players have a chance to respond.

[DigoDragon]

Zuri

beast stuffin' them into its gullet, whole and wrigglin'! Nasty business, the whole lot of it!

Zuri looks at the market for a moment, then nods to Tarrig. "Thank you for being brave and sharing such painful memories. This one must be off, if there is any possibility to save those poor folks dragged underground."

She quietly palms another silver for his trouble, and then takes her leave to rejoin the others and share what she learned. It might be exaggerated a bit, but the basic jest seems to be something large with a mass of tentacles (and the penchant to swallow victims whole).

[razorfloss]

Seeing the gold nick thinks for a moment before grabbing it and vows to Clayden to use it to donate to the rebuilding of the town.

[Metastachydium]

Well, Witt never knew this cesspool has and end so deep. This place, it smells worse than her still. She spits, all aware it eon't wash the taste of this air out of her mouth, and smears the spittle into the black mucus with a boot. She's not sure what to think of it, what it feels like – tired, rotting grease, perhaps. Not that she means to think about it much. This way! she calls out again. Thing came through here. she speaks on as she walks on, trudging through across the room with almost reckless indifference to grab hold of the sudden door and try to peel it out of the way.

[Palanan]

Spoiler: DM's Eyes Only

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Using message, Erugazel murmurs directly in the dandy’s ear:

“I hope you’re just heading to find a better vantage point from which to continue our partnership. Work with me for a little longer today, and half of what’s in that chest is yours.

“Otherwise…I can always find you. What’s inside that chest shines like a beacon to my sorcerous eyes—and every cockroach in this city is my friend and ally.”


Intimidate
(1d20-1)[15]

[RCgothic]

Jochen

Jochen lunges for the halfling, urgency etched on his face. The man's ragged breaths are a counterpoint to the relentless rain. Initially not daring to spend time examining the wounds, Jochen gathers his magic, muttering the incantation for Cure Moderate Wounds. A warm green light envelops the halfling, washing over the mangled form beneath the tattered cloak. Hope flickers in the halfling's wide eyes, a silent plea met with Jochen's determined focus.

As the light fades, Jochen gently eases the halfling back and assesses the damage. The results are not good. A gaping wound tears through the halfling's chest, a horrifying glimpse into a ravaged interior. A single, choked gasp escapes the man as Jochen discovers another, equally devastating injury. It's clear now that despite his efforts the creature's brutality left no room for survival.

Despite the grim reality, the halfling's eyes remain locked on Jochen's face, a desperate hope clinging to their depths. He reaches out a trembling hand, the movement a testament to his fading strength. But the light in the halfling's eyes dims with each passing moment. The outreached hand goes slack, the silent plea replaced by a heartbreaking emptiness. The finality of death settles over the scene, a suffocating weight that even the relentless rain cannot wash away.

---

Erugazel

Spoiler

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Whether or not Marakos heard his message, a cunning way of conveying instructions to dandy pretend adventurer, Erugazel is unable to tell now that the man has disappeared from view and no response is forthcoming. In the square the others appear to be starting to regroup with purpose.

What now? To tag along with the others, making awkward excuses for Marakos' absence and pleading usefulness? Or to break off in search of the conniving traitor who's opportunely made off with your substantial fortune in coin before the trail goes cold?

Spoiler

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DM Note: This is a genuine choice. If you decide to split from the party I'll try and make it work.

---

Witt

Spoiler

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Witt approaches the southern door with a practiced eye. The warped frame and splintered wood hint at the building's precarious state. Undeterred, she braces herself and with a burst of surprising agility (considering the harrowing scene), she wrenches the door free. It swings open with a groan, revealing what appears to have once been a library and bedroom, now in a shambles. Furniture is splintered, shelves and books smashed and torn, and everything is coated with a thick, stinking layer of tar-like sludge. Dust motes dance in the faint light filtering through the ruined walls. A door frame lies burst open to the southwest, beyond which a flight of slime-smeared stone steps leads downward into the dark. Another shattered and obstructed door in the north eastern part of the room presumably leads back to the corner of the building not yet explored.

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Zuri

As she turns to rejoin the others, Tarrig's voice cuts through the rain. His usual flippancy is replaced by a sudden seriousness. "I've always liked you, Zuri," he says, his voice low. "Try not to get... et!" The last word hangs heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the night's horrors.

---

Nick

A prickle of unease crawls up Nick's spine. He glances around, searching for the source of the disquiet. High above, a group of crows gather on the skeletal branches of a shattered storefront sign. Their obsidian eyes seem to lock onto him, their silence a stark contrast to the incessant drumming of the rain. The weight of the coin purse in his pocket feels heavier suddenly, a physical manifestation of the unspoken judgment hanging heavy in the air.

---

Kov, Elthis, Nick, Jochen, Zuri, Leif

A heavy silence hangs over the ravaged market square. Rain continues to pummel the cobblestones, washing away the blood and grime but leaving behind an undeniable sense of despair. Nothing more can be done for the dead halfling. The party somewhat reformed cluster together, a lone island of life in the midst of death.

From within the mangled remains of Marshan's house, a distant shout pierces the oppressive atmosphere. Witt's voice, laced with a hint of urgency, echoes through the shattered windows: "This way! Thing came through here!" A sliver of hope cuts through the tension. Perhaps within the alchemist's home lies a clue, a forgotten spell, or some hidden knowledge that could aid them in understanding the creature and stopping it. A discernible crunch emanates from the building. Either Witt is making progress or she dislodged something heavy.

[DigoDragon]

Zuri

Tarrig's voice cuts through the rain. His usual flippancy is replaced by a sudden seriousness. "I've always liked you, Zuri," he says, his voice low. "Try not to get... et!" The last word hangs heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the night's horrors.

Zuri feels glad to be wanted by the city's guard. In a good way--not the sketch of your face on a piece of paper posted in the city square way. The rain dribbles down the edge of her hood. A soft white breath from the cold, humid air puffs out as Zuri exhales. She nods with an air of confidence and returns to her companions. The chill of the evening held barely away by her cloak and her own fur.


Upon reaching the group, Zuri summarizes what her witness had told her. "One witness says he heard thumping sounds before the creature surfaced. Like a big group of ogres in boots. Also, it grabbed and perhaps swallowed several townsfolk alive. He described the creature as being of many and mostly shadows and tentacles."

She takes a moment of silence for the departed halfling.

When Witt shouts out, Zuri looks to the companions, nods, and will head towards Witt's voice.

[Alhallor]

Jochen is at first relieved when his spells takes hold and closes a little bit of the wounds the poor halfling is suffering, but then he soon sees another life-threathening wound... And another. He grasps the outstretched hand to at least offer a little bit of comfort for the dying soul. It's all good, it'll get better... When the poor soul dies in his arms Jochen at least takes him out of the wreckage, lays him beside it and closes his eyes. He needs some time where he just sits in the rain and collect himself. He stands up abrubtly There have been no survivors. Jochen says, hollow. The sorcerer has seen death before but not like this... And usually he could prevent the worst.

Zuri's words make him perk up and look at the carnage around them. He took some with them, but not everyone? The cruelty of the creature might have actually been a point, though it was still impossible to see what it's purpose was. But there was no denying now that they're prey was not only dangerous but also had some abominable goals.

Witt's voice brought a welcoming distraction for Jochen who whipped around and walked towards her voice, trying to distract himself.

[Metastachydium]

Witt herself, at this point, can't but ponder: which awful's this bladder of slime, really? Awful big, or awful strong. If it came up the stairs, it can sure squeeze, or it hits real heavy, to mess up all those buildings so hard; but did it come up there? Maybe it's just on the large side of things. In Witt's kind of business, size is a deal. And a big room with a big hole, that would allow for such a deal playing to its forte here.

The stair's a good direction as any, but it's not going anywhere either. Looking can't hurt much, and if it does… That's the way **** flows. Witt crosses tohe room and grabs hold of the other door,, all intent on forcing it open.

Spoiler: OOC

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Once again, if a STR check or the like is required, do tell.

[razorfloss]

Feeling the weight of the coins are heavier than normal and feeling like he's now being judged he mutters to himself Yeah Yeah I meant what I said no need to get judgey. I'm a man of my word at least when it doesn't involve drink . While muttering he hears Wits voice Looks like she found something and making sure to keep the promised good separate from his spending gold he heads her way with a shadowy butcher knife in hand as a just in case.