022: Wounds are all I'm made of

[Sierra]

<El-Cideon> The party rises bright and early the next morning--or early at least, for however much that means on a world with no sun. Before you can set out towards the trading outpost, though, you almost have a collision stepping out the door of The Broken Oar--entering at a frustrated stalk is the elf woman whose band the innkeep had previously expressed misgivings about: dressed plainly and simply in a soldier's old leathers. Dark blonde hair is trimmed short and haphazard, contributing to the martial air about the woman, and a long scar drives a hairless seam along the right side of her scalp. Her face is curiously static, as though rendered insensate by some childhood pox, and her fixed expression is flat and unsympathetic. "Excuse me?" she says with an air of irritation, despite bearing at least equal culpability in the near collision.
* Franceska gives her the look of disdain that is only reserved for elves before brushing past her outside.
<Julia> "You are excused," Julia tells her with an indulgent smile.
<El-Cideon> "I have seen you before," she notes before Franceska can make her grateful escape. "You are also residents here? I should ask a favor. There is coin involved."
* Franceska looks at Rosemund in irritation.
<Steph> "You want us to perform a service for money? Well, we're very busy! You can't possibly afford us," exclaims Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> "That depends wholly on what this favor entails," Rosemund decides for her own part.
<El-Cideon> "All I ask is observation," the woman says. She unfurls a sheet of parchment. On it is a detailed portrait and profile of a human man: handsome, with full lips, a rakish smile and carefully coifed hair. "A sorcerer in my employee has had the ill taste to go missing. Without his possessions, which suggests to me some degree of foul play, but should he slink back here for them and try to sneak off on his own, I would like to know of it. I should think ten gold adequate compensation for effortless vigilance whilst you are loitering in what is already your place of residence? It should cover drinks at the least. Should you find him for me, I shall compensate you an extra five hundred. The man is of some importance to our operations."
<Franceska> Darrin turns to take a look at the portrait, while Franceska considers the entire thing beneath her.
<El-Cideon> Darrin should certainly recognize the man should he see him in the flesh.
<Steph> "Is that all? You should've just said so! Sure, I'll take your money if I see him or whatever," replies Stephanie, turning to head out.
<Julia> Julia doesn't care and just keeps on walking.
<El-Cideon> She does have the decency to hand over ten gold to Stephanie before leaving. "If you should see him, and I am not in myself to hear the report, leave a message with the innkeep for Altira," she says before hurrying off to her room.
<El-Cideon> Peridot is sleepy at this early hour. Merchants are setting up their stalls around the market square and bridge, but there's little foot traffic about. Lord Boxworthy and associates have apparently vacated the premises by now, you find as you cross the market square. Outside the trading outpost, the two familiar guards are on duty again: the charming, foppishly dressed blond man and the armored woman with the eyepatch, again flanked by a pair of elementals.
<Franceska> "Hello again," Franceska greets the guards.
<El-Cideon> "Mornin' folks," Grinda says. "Brought friends this time?"
<Julia> "Something like that," Julia doesn't even look at the sheet clad walking cadaver of Isabel.
<Franceska> "More importantly, we brought back some information," Franceska states.
<El-Cideon> "That so?" she says. "Lemme just ring up the bossman." She bangs a mailed fist on the door. "Open up in there! There's business transpirin'." The doors grind open and she leads you to Pomerand's office. The trademaster is working through paperwork at his desk when his hulking bodyguard opens the door at Grinda's knock. Pomerand looks up at the intrusion. "Ah, my good friends!" he beams. "What is the good word?"
<Franceska> "We should start by saying that we have good news," Franceska muses. "But before we go into that, there is the matter of payment to discuss."
<El-Cideon> "Yes, yes," he stands up. "Twenty-two fifty per head, or five thousand for word of their co-conspirators. And which is it that you have brought me?"
<Julia> "Isabel, do take off your sheet," Julia asks her zombie, which groans and struggles mightily for several seconds before fumbling the sheet off to expose her head.
<Franceska> "I believe it should serve as adequate proof," Franceska voices, when the zombie is unveiled. And she, coincidentally, is standing far away from it with someone else between them. "We also have details on the co-conspirators in question, but rather than gold there is something else that interests us."
<El-Cideon> "My word!" he gasps. Pomerand's bodyguard has a hand ready at his weapon in response to this bold display, but Pomerand seems more surprised than worried. "Your companion has seen better days." He focuses on the former Isabel's white hair. "Yeees, I see now. Of course, of course." He turns to the woman in black waiting by the door: "Grinda, see Deming about retrieving payment for our good friends' hard work, then return to your post." She disappears, then Pomerand turns to Franceska. "Gold is hardly the only resource of consequence at our disposal," he beams.
<Franceska> "I see no reason to beat around the bush," Franceska states. "I am interested in the following two people." She pauses, and then rolls her eyes before addressing Rosemund. "Who am I supposed to care about?"
<Julia> "Yes, it is hard to keep all the names straight isn't it?" Julia confides in Franceska.
<Franceska> "I can remember yours just fine," Franceska assures Julia.
<El-Cideon> "Brijid and William Alcembron," Rosemund supplies with some suppressed irritation. "Oh, is it too much trouble to remember the names of the people we are looking for?"
<El-Cideon> To Pomerand, she adds: "We have been told that they were here, but we do not know when."
* Franceska very pointedly avoids answering, returning her gaze to Pomerand. "If you have any of them, that makes things easier. If not, your information on where they currently are will have to do. Then, you will know just who attacked you and why."
<El-Cideon> "A great deal of merchandise passes through our hands, of course," Pomerand allows. "One prides himself on his work, but I could hardly claim to recall every item we buy and sell. One does recall the troublemakers, though, with some chagrin, and these two...these two I remember." He eyes Franceska speculatively. "What is the nature of your interest in these two, if I may inquire?"
<Franceska> "It will eventually lead us to a thief."
<Julia> "They're connected to a grave crime in our homeland - witnesses, not suspects I assure you," Julia clarifies.
<Steph> Stephanie bristles at every word. "So you can see our vested interest in their well-being, physical and otherwise," she finishes.
<El-Cideon> "Vexacious creatures, thieves!" he laughs in sympathy. "I cannot abide them myself. Mmm. Well, I may tell you freely that they are not any longer our chattals, though I do know to whose possession they were transferred." He considers this silently for a moment. "I do have some minor obligation to our loyal customers, you understand. Oh, simply as a matter of good business practice. So I must ask you before imparting this information: you mean to seek out this man and woman, yes? What are your intentions upon finding them?"
<Franceska> "How much did you sell them for?"
<El-Cideon> "A bargain," he shrugs. "It was after many years of work in the mines and they were no longer at one what might might call the physical peak of mortal prowess. And such meddlesome creatures, you could not allow the two of them time together to scheme." He shakes his head sadly at the temerity of mischievous slaves. "Do you mean to buy them from their new owners, is that it then? So we come to my concern: should their owners prove unwilling to sell, for whatever reason, I should know what your response would be."
<Franceska> "There is no such thing. Everyone can be made an offer they cannot refuse," Franceska insists.
<Julia> "We would strongly insist on at least being able to question them, but it need not come to anything ugly," Julia adds.
<Steph> "It might take them some time to realise they can't refuse our offer, but we'd be sure to get there in the end," replies Stephanie. "If it comes down to it, we will have to consider diplomatic pressure..."
<El-Cideon> "Hmm," he muses to himself again. "One carefully cultivates his profession reputation, of course. I would not wish to send trouble after trusted business associates." He examines Franceska with interest. "You are quite confident in the accuracy of this intelligence you say you might provide me?"
<El-Cideon> OOC: going to ask for diplo at this point, anyone participating can aid
<Franceska> "I came here to deal, not to bluff," Franceska states firmly.
<Franceska> roll 1d20+15
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+15 and gets 17."12 [1d20=2]
<Julia> roll 1d20+4 Julia is better at bluffing
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+4 Julia is better at bluffing and gets 6."12 [1d20=2]
<Steph> roll 1d20+10 I suppose I literally can't fail to help
* Hatbot --> "Steph rolls 1d20+10 I suppose I literally can't fail to help and gets 23."12 [1d20=13]
<El-Cideon> "We do not go about looking for fights at every opportunity," Rosemund adds in. "Our interest in finding the information we need as peaceably as possible!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+15 Rosey to the rescue!
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+15 Rosey to the rescue! and gets 20."12 [1d20=5]
<El-Cideon> He seems swayed by group opinion, finally. "As you say," he concedes. "You have been effusively polite with us thus far, an attitude I must admit is refreshing considering the antipathy with which some of the locals have received us." He shakes his head again at the sad injustices heaped upon the innocent entrepreneurs of the world. "This man you seek, the human William Alcembron, was sold to labor in Mistress Thela's mine. You will find her encampment some two or three days travel from Peridot. We may provide a guide if you wish; we have done business with her before. The half-elven sibling, Brijid, we traded to the illithid Yasgraf. He makes his home somewhere in the western caverns, though I regret that I cannot direct you to him with specificity."
<Julia> "Lets not go to the illithid," Julia faux-whispers. "She's probably been eaten already."
<Steph> "Mind flayers?!"
* Franceska grimaces. Elves and illithid?
<El-Cideon> "Fearsome beings!" Pomerand concedes. "My scalp itches in their presence. I have only seen the one in negotiation--strange fellow, seems to favor the old and infirm--though I know not whether he lives with more of his brethren."
<Franceska> Her expression grows downright pained. "Could you show us the records of those transactions?" Franceska says, gritting her teeth. "To better understand the people we must deal with?"
<El-Cideon> "What more need you know?" Pomerand says, circling round his desk and opening drawers. "These are business relationships that count years behind them, give me a moment to search my files. In the nonce, if it would please you to impart the information that *I* require?"
<Julia> "Of course," Julia nods. "They were hired by a woman of serpent-like features who I believe recently made your acquaintance. Her name is Pheretima Kyriazis."
<Franceska> "Now then," Franceska voices, "might we go and look what is holding back the payment for delivery of that thing?" She eyes the zombie with a frown.
<El-Cideon> "Ah, yes!" He brightens with recognition. "I recall the woman. I do not envy her her lack of patience and skill at negotiation," he tsks. "A mortal should know when a thing is beyond her grasp. Well now, I have no doubt that Chief Wrangler Deming is merely busying himself with reweaving the wards 'round the vault. He is ever so concerned for our security and prosperity! Well, let us and go and seek him, shall we?" He locks up and his desk and sweeps around it through the office doors.
* Franceska nods in satisfaction, intending to follow. That would honor their part of the bargain, and let them see more of the place.
<Steph> "Wrangler? That's his job title?" asks Stephanie, stepping after the thing that looks like a man.
<Julia> Julia follows, with Isabel shambling after her.
<El-Cideon> Pomerand's protective cordon of bodyguard and golems tromps down the corridor alongside him. He exits the office and turns right. "Technically his primary responsibility is maintaining the health and security of the chattals onsite," Pomerand explains to Stephanie. "Though when the pens are low on stock, he busies himself with other tasks. Ah, here he is now!" Pomerand stops as another duo turns down the hall towards you: a mustachioed dao in a white-gold gown and a human man in an arcanist's robes, pinch-faced and aging. The second dao hands over a fine wood chest to Pomerand with a bow. Pomerand in turns proffers it to you. The jingle of coin can be heard inside as the box shifts in his grasp.
<Steph> "What do you think you will end up doing with Ms. Kyriazis?" asks Stephanie, as the box is handed over.
<El-Cideon> "That depends on the manner of her apprehension," he says. "Of course it would please me to see her work off the price of her crime in perpetuity. Though should the city guard find her first, I gather their solution might be a more terminal one." He shrugs. "So long as an example is made, we are satisfied with whatsoever unfortunate end she may meet."
<Franceska> "In that case, all that remains is the matter of the guide. Can one be made available right now?"
<El-Cideon> "Oh yes," he says with a nod. He turns to the brute of a man loitering by his side. "Branson? Inform Grinda that when our good friends depart, she shall accompany them?" The big man grunts and shoulders past you for the main door. Then, to Julia: "Our late transgressor seems to follow you as would a puppy. Do you mean to keep her, or is she a gift?" He laughs and slaps his belly. "I do confess, it gives me great joy to think of a vanquished foe's treachery repaid with eternal service! A wonder I had never considered this before."
<Steph> "Actually, it's quite alright," states Stephanie. "Directions would be sufficient, and perhaps a letter of introduction?" she adds, glancing at Franceska. "We may be in town for a few more days, you see."
<Julia> "I have no need for her, humans make rather worthless zombies," Julia admits, turning to Isabel. "Isabel, stay here." Of course to a zombie mind that means stay in that exact spot forever until she orders otherwise or someone wrests away control of her, but she's not going to explain any of that.
<El-Cideon> He nods to Julia. Then, in response to Stephanie: "Is that so? Well, if you do not immediately require her services, simply her tell her such. You may swing by later to retrieve her if need be."
* Franceska isn't really sure why Stephanie would refuse, but this is hardly the place to ask. She nods curtly, saying, "Our business here is concluded."
<El-Cideon> "Of course," he says with an outstretched hand. "I wish you good tidings and prosperity in your future endeavors. And should you wish to guarantee such, you only need to return here! My door is always open for my good friends."
<Julia> They're... friends with the slaver who also sells people as food to brain-eating monsters. Lovely. Julia daintily takes his hand with a blank expression and then swiftly departs!
<Steph> Since Julia has done the honours, that save Stephanie from having to touch this thing before she turns around to leave.
* Franceska waits until they have left before asking Stephanie, "Is there a reason we are not taking her alone to try and find out how many mercenaries the outpost has and what other defenses it boasts?"
<Steph> "I just didn't want to spend a second longer with those people," she replies, gripping her temple. "We can just go chat her up later if you really want."
<Julia> "Let us not."
<El-Cideon> "Every time I walk out of that building I feel as though I should take a bath," Rosemund says once you're out of earshot of the outpost. "In fire."
<Franceska> "I really have no idea what our chances are if we wanted to take them on," Franceska muses. "Until I do, I would rather avoid it. I suppose if neither of you are interested, I will just let it drop.'
<Steph> "I'm gonna go see Mercedes again," says Stephanie, starting off. "Let's get ready to go in a couple hours."
<El-Cideon> Once Stephanie's back, the group sets out, something like mid-morning by local standards. Pomerand's directions take you down somewhat familiar paths: head west out of town, take the descending path to the left, continue downwards when it branches, following the red-veined stone at successive branches until you hit bare dirt tunnels, then the second left branch there and follow it, continue ever downwards through the obsidian gallery, ignoring all branches...all told, it should keep you busy a couple days, assuming no problems.
<Julia> Julia would really prefer longer to rest her weary legs from the oppressive weight of this plane, but nonetheless she bravely trudges on!
<El-Cideon> Before you can make it halfway through that journey though, you encounter just that: you're in an earthen tunnel with a comfortable (by local standards) diameter of some twenty feet, just starting out on the leg of the described journey, when you hear an ominous rumbling echo from down the tunnel.
<Franceska> Grabbing Rosemund by the wrist, Franceska runs away from the ominous noise!
<Steph> Stephanie grabs Rosemund by her other hand, and runs alongside!
<Julia> "Run!" Julia yells needlessly, bolting from the noise as fast as her legs can carry her!
<El-Cideon> OOC: roll ref as you go~
<Steph> roll 1d20+13
* Hatbot --> "Steph rolls 1d20+13 and gets 30."12 [1d20=17]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+10 Rosey
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+10 Rosey and gets 18."12 [1d20=8]
<Julia> roll 1d20+5
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+5 and gets 15."12 [1d20=10]
<Franceska> roll 1d20+3
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+3 and gets 11."12 [1d20=8]
<Julia> roll 1d20+7 Thing
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+7 Thing and gets 12."12 [1d20=5]
<Franceska> roll 1d20+5 Darrin, improved evasion
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+5 Darrin, improved evasion and gets 16."12 [1d20=11]
<Julia> OOC: Thing has improved evasion too
<El-Cideon> roll 8d6 rocks fall, everyone but Fran and Thing made the save and takes half (though I guess Thing halves too because imp evasion)
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 8d6 rocks fall, everyone but Fran and Thing made the save and takes half (though I guess Thing halves too because imp evasion) and gets 29."12 [8d6=2, 4, 1, 1, 3, 6, 6, 6]
<El-Cideon> Franceska finds herself trapped under a pile of rubble in the quake's aftermath, along with an unfortunate little imp! Everyone else is able to slip through the cave-in free with just bruises to show for it.
<Steph> "This is really putting paid to my idea of setting up a trade route," mutters Stephanie. "Oi, you alive, Franzy?" she asks, walking over the start pulling away rocks.
<Julia> Julia helps clear away the rubble. "Now we're going to have to find another path and end up lost, I fear."
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is quick to join Stephanie in helping to dig out her friend. "I would wager that people here do not leave home very often," she agrees. "That is to say, if I did wager, ever."
<Franceska> "I hate this place, I truly do," Franceska mutters, too weak to do much but lie there amidst the rocks.
<Steph> "I am prepared to agree with your sentiments," states Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d6 nonlethal to pinned party members before they're dug out
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d6 nonlethal to pinned party members before they're dug out and gets 1."12 [1d6=1]
<Julia> Thing squeaks pitifully and promises dark revenge on this plane when he ascends.
<Franceska> "This is twice I am buried alive," Franceska continues despondently. "Even once is more than enough."
<El-Cideon> Everyone's freed soon enough, but getting back might be a problem--the way you came through is mostly obstructed by rubble now. You could possibly climb up to the top of the slope and clear out a crawlspace with minimal effort if you wanted.
<Julia> Can they go forward, then?
<El-Cideon> You can! There's some stray rocks and boulders littering the path forward, suggesting the earthquake was more than a localized phenomenon, but nothing that prevents you from moving on.
<El-Cideon> "Does anyone need help?" Rosemund offers once everyone's standing again. "Anyone who is not Julia, I mean," she quickly adds.
<Steph> "I think she needs it most, Rose," states Stephanie, glancing at Franceska.
<Julia> Julia can take care of herself, as evidenced by the foul energies playing off her hand as she rubs her bruises.
<El-Cideon> roll 3d8+15 Fran heals
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 3d8+15 Fran heals and gets 31."12 [3d8=5, 8, 3]
<El-Cideon> Rosemund is quick to oblige! "Oh, you look bruised as well," she adds, treating Stephanie in turn, and then herself.
<Franceska> "Maybe we can invite Pomerand along next time," Franceska muses out loud, content to lie on the ground regardless of how dirty it is. "And then rocks will fall and he will die."
<El-Cideon> roll 2d8+13 Steph
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 2d8+13 Steph and gets 19."12 [2d8=4, 2]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8+7 Rosey
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8+7 Rosey and gets 11."12 [1d8=4]
<El-Cideon> "There, you see?" Rosemund says. "If we had brought along his guard woman, she would be suffering here too and he would have one less person protecting him."
<Franceska> "I was all for that."
<Steph> Stephanie looks downright stung. "Rosemund, you're right! I passed up a chance to make our enemies suffer," she exclaims. "It won't happen again."
* Franceska seems to feel a bit better at Stephanie's suffering.
<Julia> "If we have to suffer as well there's no joy in it," Julia says, seemingly on the way to recovery and heading onwards while still hugging herself. As usual Thing lands on her arm to save having to exercise himself.
<El-Cideon> Content that everyone's healed up enough to take another round of falling rocks (well, everyone that Rosemund can actually heal, at least!) Rosemund strides forward with her mace held high to light the way. It's perhaps another hour before she's forced to halt--the tunnel before her is wholly collapsed. "We were supposed to turn at the second left," she says helplessly. There is no level branch available to do this. However, a steep descending path, looking freshly opened by the earthquake, does descend in that general direction. It's cramped and narrow, barely wide enough for one person to stand.
<Steph> "There's no telling where this goes," groans Stephanie. "It could twist around to anywhere!"
<Franceska> "Yes, someone should just burrow through the rocks to make a path for us."
<El-Cideon> "Well, it is that, or we dig...I do not how much," Rosemund observes.
<Franceska> "We will have to see if nine minutes on the spell would be enough," Franceska muses. "Who is volunteering?"
<Julia> "I wish I'd kept Isabel now..."
<Steph> "You're the expert?"
<Franceska> "Too tired and bruised."
<El-Cideon> "She could dig forever, could she not?" Rosemund guesses. "I suppose...I suppose that if you are to animate someone's corpse, at least you are making good use of it?" she manages.
<Franceska> "No, Rosemund, do not go down that path! Please!"
<Julia> "Yes, we could all relax and have dinner and sleep while a tireless undead servant works constantly to clear our path," Julia says wistfully. "Even if we'd seen any corpses on the way I could've used one..."
<El-Cideon> "Well, we do not have any with us," Rosemund points out, sounding relieved. "Are we digging or are we exploring?"
* Franceska waits on a volunteer either way.
<Julia> "I'll do it!" Julia huffs. "And hold you all responsible for ruining my nails if it comes to that."
<Franceska> "Oh good." Franceska taps her lightly on the shoulder as she casts her spell.
<Steph> "Just get a hat like mine!" replies Stephanie, leaning back against the wall. "Then it doesn't matter how awful you really look!"
<Franceska> "So you always look awful? Do you even bother washing up? Dressing?"
<El-Cideon> "...How awful *do* you look?" Rosemund has to ask, with some hesitation.
<El-Cideon> OOC: Fran: which spell, duration/effects?
<Julia> Julia is glad not to have to look at Stephanie as she starts digging/burrowing through the rock!
<Franceska> OOC: Burrow, 30ft burrowing speed, 9min duration
<Steph> "I'm wearing armor, and socks," replies Stephanie. "And I don't look too bad! But the tail unnerves people something special."
<El-Cideon> After about a minute of digging, Julia's industrious nails break through into open space! You can't tell what's on the other side since there's no light in your tunnel, but waving your arm around you don't encounter any immediate resistance at least.
<Julia> "I'm done and I can't see!" Julia calls back through the tunnel, stepping out and exposing herself to any deadly creatures which can see in the dark or just hear her voice.
<Franceska> "Someone who can see in the dark should go and take a look."
<El-Cideon> Julia's voice echoes--wherever she is now is open enough for that. There's an unpleasant slant to the floor which makes you feel you should be sliding to the right, but it doesn't exactly impair your balance.
<El-Cideon> "Or someone with light!" Rosemund suggests, crawling through the burrow after her.
<Steph> "Oh, that'd be me," muses Stephanie, slipping in behind Rosemund.
* Franceska clenches her fist, before shaking her head and following.
<El-Cideon> Once Rosey pokes her weapon out into the open space, Julia can finally get a good look around her. She might've preferred to stay in the dark. Around you is what looks like a small chapel constructed of jet-black marble, circular, with rings of benches round a stone altar. The room has the look of a full box dropped from a great height to render the contents a jumble--some benches are broken, tumbled over, piled against the right wall, as are some columns, the left quadrant of the room being collapsed altogether. The columns that remain intact are covered in carvings--mostly skeletons engaging in various atrocities, at a glance. Across from you, on the far side of the room, is an archway, half-blocked by rubble but seemingly leading to an upwards-slanting path. (more)
<El-Cideon> The altar itself is occupied. There is a naked human woman pinned to the stone by a series of rusted metal spars. Mostly through chest, torso and abdomen, with one piercing her right eye. A unicorn's horn is thrust through her heart. There is no sign of blood and the body appears unspoiled by decay. The woman's good eye is closed, but otherwise her expression is locked in one of saintly agony. Her hair has grown to her hips and is devoid of color.
<El-Cideon> "Oh my," Rosemund says in a tiny voice.
<Julia> "See, if she'd been on the other side of the rocks I could have saved all that effort," Julia pouts, seeming quite unaffected by the grisly decor as she moves over to examine the altar and the corpse.
<Julia> roll 1d20+14 religion to see who it's devoted to?
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+14 religion to see who it's devoted to? and gets 31."12 [1d20=17]
<El-Cideon> OOC: heal and perception also apply to anyone interested/capable.
<Steph> roll 1d20+10 sure okay
* Hatbot --> "Steph rolls 1d20+10 sure okay and gets 26."12 [1d20=16]
<Julia> roll 1d20+11 heal
* Hatbot --> "Julia rolls 1d20+11 heal and gets 23."12 [1d20=12]
<Franceska> "Is she not fully dead, or so beyond death she transcended decay?" Franceska wonders, warily keeping her distance.
<Steph> "Bloody light above, this is ghastly," mutters Stephanie, grimacing.
<Steph> "Hey, she's not dead!"
<El-Cideon> roll 1d20+13 Rosey's K:R roll because she can
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d20+13 Rosey's K:R roll because she can and gets 25."12 [1d20=12]
<Franceska> roll 1d20+29 D
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+29 D and gets 47."12 [1d20=18]
<Julia> Julia rolls her eyes while Thing flaps merrily around the altar. "Not dead?" she blinks. "But every major organ's been impaled!"
* Franceska casts Detect Magic with a frown, after Darrin whispers into her ear.
<El-Cideon> "I--I do not know," Rosemund admits, having trouble taking her eyes off the ghastly display. "I just--people only ever came to me with broken arms, most of the time!"
<Steph> "But she's not!" insists Stephanie. "She's breathing. Look at her, she's in pain! We have to get her down from there." Her face twists.
<Franceska> "What deity will we offend if we remove the spars?" Franceska asks Rosemund, getting straight to the point.
<El-Cideon> "Not a deity," Rosemund insists quietly.
<Julia> "Not a deity, a demon lord," Julia nods. "The very one who cursed me in the womb to have my condition, no less."
<Steph> "If? No fucking if about it," mutters Stephanie, walking up to her and eyeing them gingerly. "The tricky part is getting her down without killing her. Hey, Julia, can you-" A string of curses emits at Julia's last statement.
<Franceska> "That makes it easier! What about the unicorn horn? So long as she's not some horrible demon we should just remove them."
<Franceska> roll 1d20+8
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d20+8 and gets 15."12 [1d20=7]
<Julia> She shrugs. "It is what it is, I don't expect to ever be able to do anything to him about it. I still live, and live well for the most part. Still, I've no objection to extricating our mystery woman from her... confinement?"
<El-Cideon> "Are we just going to...pull them out or..." Rosemund can't find the end of her sentence.
<Franceska> "Let us keep the horn in until last," Franceska decides, heading over to pull out the spar going into the woman's eye. "That might be what is keeping her alive."
<Steph> "I guess? I'll pull them out, and you... heal her as I'm doing it?" suggests Stephanie, uneasily.
<Julia> Thing then bravely turns into his quasit form, hissing out, "No! Leave bad woman where she is!" An effect undermined as usual by his cute little waistcoat and fez.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8 and gets 5."12 [1d8=5]
<Julia> "Oh, Thing serves Orcus as well," Julia sighs. "Do behave, Thing. He isn't here after all."
<Franceska> "How silly! A demon's enemy is quite likely our ally!"
<Steph> "I'll kill him! How come you haven't killed him?" wonders Stephanie, gingerly starting to remove the spears as well.
<El-Cideon> Franceska has a little trouble pulling the strut free--it feels like it's run through the skull into the stone beneath--but after a moment the gore-streaked shaft comes loose in her hands. The woman's good eye shoots open and she SCREAMS, a piercing wail that echoes all 'round the little chamber and sinks into the bones of those present.
<Julia> "As I said, he makes for a good experimental subject. And he helps quite a lot in other ways," the necromancer says patiently. "Anyway, turn back into a bat so you don't alarm her when she rouses. In fact..." she taps Thing, casting undetectable alignment. "She's probably a holy knight or saint of some sort I'd wager." While Thing looks mutinous for a bit, he turns into a bat and dives into
<Julia> Julia's pack.
<Julia> "Oh my!"
<Franceska> "Oh, she is awake. This is where you come in, Rosemund."
<El-Cideon> "Um...um!" Rosemund does the only thing she knows to do in dreadful situations, which is to heal the afflicted.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8+7
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8+7 and gets 8."12 [1d8=1]
<Franceska> "This will keep on hurting," Franceska says, starting on the next one.
<Steph> "There's something fucking wrong with you-" says Stephanie, before moving to restrain the woman before the inevitable flailing.
<Julia> Julia procures some bandages and moves in to support Rosemund, compressing wounds and trying to keep too much blood from escaping.
<El-Cideon> Healing the wound doesn't give her her eye back, but it does seem to patch up the worst of the damage otherwise. One can only hope it helps more internally than externally.
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8 and gets 6."12 [1d8=6]
<Franceska> "I have nothing for the pain," Franceska tells Stephanie, working methodically to free the woman one spar at a time. "And knocking her out may render her so weak she would die. Do you have a better way?"
<Steph> "Say encouraging things, you dolt!" snaps Stephanie. "Just bear with it, okay? It'll all be over soon!"
<El-Cideon> She acquires something resembling coherence as Franceska works, choking out a few words. "Finish it..." she gasps. "Kill them all."
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8 and gets 1."12 [1d8=1]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8+7 Rosey!
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8+7 Rosey! and gets 15."12 [1d8=8]
<Franceska> "Pain and hatred encourage a lot more," Franceska says, offended.
<Steph> "Sick people need love and support, not pain and hatred! They have plenty of that!"
<Julia> "Shhh, there's no one here," Julia murmurs soothingly, wishing she could do more beneficial magic for once. "Just bear with it, we'll have you out in no time."
<El-Cideon> roll 10d8 collective remainders, will counter this with a mass Rosey roll
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 10d8 collective remainders, will counter this with a mass Rosey roll and gets 44."12 [10d8=3, 7, 2, 1, 3, 4, 7, 4, 5, 8]
<El-Cideon> roll 4#1d8+7
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 4#1d8+7 and gets 41."12 [4#1d8+7 = 8, 14, 10, 9]
<El-Cideon> Metal clatters to the ground as each red-streaked strut is pulled free. Finally there's just the horn pinning her to the altar.
<Franceska> "This will probably hurt more than the rest, but it is the last one," Franceska says, trying to be supportive. She holds onto the horn with one hand and pulls it out, while the other channels her sole cure spell into the no longer bound woman.
<Franceska> roll 1d8+5
* Hatbot --> "Franceska rolls 1d8+5 and gets 12."12 [1d8=7]
<El-Cideon> roll 1d8+8
* Hatbot --> "El-Cideon rolls 1d8+8 and gets 14."12 [1d8=6]
<El-Cideon> Her back arches, hands and feet drum madly on the altar, and a ghastly wail echoes around the chamber, but healing magic is enough to close up the worst of that dreadful wound and keep her amongst the living and conscious.
<El-Cideon> "Are...are you okay?" Rosemund asks tentatively.
<Steph> "She probably needs to rest," says Stephanie, uncertainly. "Away from here?"
<Franceska> "Of course not," Franceska says, before nodding at Stephanie. "Let us bring her back and I can summon the hut."
<El-Cideon> She sits up, clutches her head in her hands, gathers her senses. Looks up and around the chamber, at each of you with one blue eye. Moves her lips, tongue, experimentally at first, finding words.
<Steph> "It's okay, you're okay. You're gonna be okay," says Stephanie, crouching to have her head level with the woman's.
<Franceska> "Regenerating your eye is possible one day," Franceska tells her. "Do you know who you are?"
<El-Cideon> When she speaks, it's in a voice savaged from screaming, but intelligible enough. Her speech sounds stilted, antiquated, but recognizable enough as the common tongue. "Brenna," she manages. "What place is this?" She looks around again. Lifts an arm, looks at it as though something's not operating according to the brochure.
<Franceska> "Some altar to a demon lord. We hate demon lords too!" Franceska gives her a rare smile. "So there is no cause for worry! We will help you!"
<Steph> "It's a chapel to Orcus? In the Plane of Earth," replies Stephanie.
<El-Cideon> Rosemund turns to look at Franceska in open astonishment. But approving astonishment!
<El-Cideon> She swings her feet off the altar, tries stepping onto the floor, holding herself up with wobbly care and one hand on the stone. "Time passed," she concludes. "How long?"
<Julia> "No idea," Julia says, looking around to see if there's any potential for looting the place later, after getting Brenna to rest in their hut.
<Franceska> "Probably a while. How about cleaning up and putting on some clothing?" Franceska offers. "We can regroup on the other side of that wall."
<Steph> "It's the 672nd year, circa Solata," explains Stephanie. "I've got some spare stuff," she adds, digging into her bag. "Never mind it being a bit fancy..."
<El-Cideon> Brenna seems inclined to take whatever she's offered at this point.
* Franceska sets about establishing her hut, which also coincidentally prevents her from looking any further at lewd skeletons and blood-covered altars.
<Steph> Soon enough, Stephanie has produced a gown fit for a princess- well, it won't be after Brenna has gone through the tunnel, but nonetheless...
<El-Cideon> "We are not going to camp here, are we?" Rosemund whispers.
<Steph> "No, we're going to camp on the other side," replies Stephanie, staring for the tunnel. "It's a bit of a crawl, okay?"
<El-Cideon> "I shall endure," Brenna says, evidently finding it no great indignity to do whatever gets her out of the chapel. Once you're all on the other side and settled into Franceska's conjured shelter: "My saviors have names?" she coaxes.
<Steph> "Sure! I'm Steph, she's Rosey, she's Julia, and the other one's Franzy," replies Stephanie.
* Julia nods when her name is mentioned.
<Franceska> "Franceska Durant," she corrects Stephanie with a frown.
<Steph> "That's what I said!"
<Franceska> "And this is Darrin," Franceska introduces the fashionable owl.
<El-Cideon> She nods with approval at the presence of an animal companion, although the hat gets Darrin an odd look.
<Franceska> "Are you a human?" Franceska asks the most important question, now that introductions are out of the way.
<El-Cideon> She's silent for a moment, mulling things over. "One hundred years then?" she guesses. "Two? Precision escapes me." She shrugs, evidently not seeing any great difference. A nod to Franceska. "How came you to find me?"
<Steph> "Random chance," replies Stephanie, rubbing her head. "We just kinda stumbled across you on our way to someplace."
<Franceska> "There are drow slavers perhaps a day's distance away who are holding an old hero from Solata," Franceska elaborates on that.
<Julia> "Yes, we thought the cave in blocked our way to the camp, but we must have taken a wrong turn."
<El-Cideon> "Fortunate perhaps," she says to Stephanie. "Or perhaps not. They will know. They may seek me. Worse, they may try with another." A sharp turn of her head towards Franceska: "You journey for liberation?"
<Julia> "Try what, exactly?" Julia asks curiously.
<Franceska> "It turned out that way."
<El-Cideon> She just nods back in the direction of the chapel.
<Franceska> "What does that mean? Some sort of immortality ritual?"
<Steph> "They're demons. Do they need a real reason to hurt people?"
<El-Cideon> Another nod. "I am ageless, through a vow made with powers greater than myself. They sought to leech my divinity without undertaking any personal sacrifice themselves." A shrug. "Such is my assumption, insofar as motives may be ascribed to the mad. I could feel myself....flowing out, to others. That is as much sense as I can make of the matter."
<Julia> "Hopefully they all withered and dropped dead when we released you," Julia says cheerily. "But divinity? Really?"
<El-Cideon> "I am a servant. It is not a prize," she cautions Julia.
<Steph> "Whom do you serve?" asks Stephanie, curiously.
<El-Cideon> "The natural order, in general, and Valarian in specific." She looks around. "And I feel we are a long way from any forest, are we not?"
<Franceska> "I would be surprised if any exist on this plane."
<El-Cideon> "There was one in town," Rosemund points out. "Sort of. One of the temples maintain one somehow."
<Franceska> "Is that so?" Franceska blinks, before asking, "Do you have enough divinity left to regenerate on your own?"
<El-Cideon> "I am as well as may be expected," she says, adding with the semblance of a smile. "The devotion of a god is not a thing that may be simply drunk dry as a flask as water."
<Julia> "Well, the way back to Peridot is somewhat blocked at the moment, but you're welcome to travel with us until we find a way back if you like," Julia offers, prompting Thing to burrow deeply into her bag.
<El-Cideon> "Most gracious," she agrees. "Have you a bow, arrows? I should assist against any foes."
<Julia> "All I have is a pick," Julia shakes her head.
<El-Cideon> ~