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kingdomsofrain2026-01-17 02:26 pm
onefellswoop) wrote in kingdomsofrain2026-01-17 02:26 pm
shitlords!
placeholder title above! hmmmm
1) Prelude: Ill-Natured Shrubbery.
2) The Party Gathers: If a Tree Burns in the Forest...
3) Death House Pt. 1: Family, If You Wish It.
4) Death House Pt. 2: Onward and Downward.
1) Prelude: Ill-Natured Shrubbery.
2) The Party Gathers: If a Tree Burns in the Forest...
3) Death House Pt. 1: Family, If You Wish It.
4) Death House Pt. 2: Onward and Downward.
no subject
(Faolan didn't need to say anything about traveling together. But he did, he chose to, and might that not mean something?) (Whatever it means, it's no cause for Dima to rescind thought of caution.)
Whatever those words mean, Dima can't keep himself from smiling just a little, a relieved, minor crook of his lip.
[ It is. It will be; that's so. ] Even if the shrubs are finished, there's no telling what else may fling itself upon them.
Then, nodding to Faolan, he glances toward the room, toward where the thieves seem to have gone, and messages Sen: [ Anything worth lingering over, or are you reciting poetry to the tiefling? ]
<.>
Sen was, in fact, thinking of reciting poetry to Rin. He looks momentarily perturbed, then tsks and leans back so he can see out of the alcove at the waiting men.
[ They're ready to be boring somewhere different ], he observes to Rin. He rises and, on a whim, offers Rin a ride on his back - stealthed, of course!
When the pair reach Faolan and Dmitri, Sen recalls suddenly the pouch he found. Easing Rin from his back, he produces it, dumps the coin (gives it to Rin for dividing up fairly!) and holds it out to Faolan - who seems he might know and appreciate leather bags.
[INS or NAT, f: nat 20]
Faolan stares at it a moment, then slowly takes it. He waits until Sen and Rin move off again to scout ahead before just as slowly passing it to Dmitri.
[ It's human. ]
<.>
Rin of course agrees, wrapping their arms around Sen - not too tight, and making sure not to get in the way of his movement! - and responding, [ They can be as boring as they like; WE'LL have an adventure! ] The coins, of course, go into the bag of holding, for later and very fair dividing, and Rin turns their eyes ahead, because it's time for getting back to work!
Dima—
Well.
In the first place, there's a fluster through his stomach, a clamoring of moths between his lungs. Of course Faolan may only have wanted nothing to do with this object, or may have determined it better suits Dima's use, but—
But it's not not a gift.
It's not not the kind of gift Dima might hope for, if he ever anticipated gifts at all.
Dima holds the bag, brushes his fingertips across the surface. He'll ask Faolan what he thinks, but first, Dima will attempt to examine the bag himself, with a particular eye to any magical properties.
[INS, d: 7; If there's anything magical about it, he can't perceive it, and he can tell nothing else about it other than what Faolan already said.]
Dima's fingertips continue to travel the surface of the pouch as he looks up at Faolan. [ Thank you. It’s— ]
'Lovely,' he was about to say. Or 'beautiful.' Instead, his lip ticks slightly, and he alters his approach: [ What do you make of it? ]
<.>
...It shouldn't surprise him. He's beginning to gather Dmitri dabbles in necromancy. Of course he would be thankful for a pouch made from human skin.
He still gives the man a perplexed glance, then shakes his head. [ It's not unexpected, if this was a place of sacrifice and torture. ]
And, after a beat, he adds hesitantly, [ You're welcome. I think. ]
<.>
[ That's so.
What's strange is that it should have been left behind. An object of this sort— It isn't unheard of, but it's rare. Valuable, among the right circles. ]
He's staring at the pouch again (he thinks, next time he has an opportunity, he just might stow the raven totem in here) (he also thinks that might not be the wisest course), and he blinks, stows the pouch in his pack, and meets Faolan's eyes again.
[ I find interest in it. I find value— And I will find use for it. It was good of you to give. ]
Dima begins to extend his hand, realizes his own gesture, and blanches, turns what would have been a reach for Faolan's hand into a gesture toward the hall.
[ Onward, then. ]
<.>
Faolan saw that.
The hand reaching for his, then withdrawn again. (It's a metaphor for his life.) He saw, too, how Dmitri paled, how he made it something other to cover his error.
He turns away, thinking how no one ever withdrew a hand because reaching for him at all was the error. (Only being reached for in kind.)
As he starts after the thieves, he turns his head just enough to glance over his shoulder - then, eyes forward once more, he draws a hand behind his back, palm out, in subtle offer.
Just in case.
(Just to see.)
<.>
He'd fallen behind, not quite able to move yet, watching after Faolan with something like worry, something like regret. He's finally moving - step after step, it isn't difficult, or shouldn't be - and when Faolan's hand extends—
There's no thinking; no pause to deliberate the meaning in the gesture, or whether it's the offer Dima would like for it to be. He sees what he takes to be an invitation, and he moves, steps suddenly swift, silent, focused on Faolan's hand.
He wraps his hand in Faolan's. With perhaps a little too much pressure at first, so Dima relaxes, lets the hold be something simple. Something... Faolan can slip from, should he wish to. Something that still tells of Dima's appreciation.
He ought to say something. He wants to express how much this offered palm means, but he also doesn't think loquaciousness is wanted here, and what he lands on is—
[ Hello. ]
Smiling softly to himself.
<.>
He grabbed so quickly and held on so tightly.
(No one's ever done that before.)
Faolan's eyes close briefly and maybe for a moment the pressure of their hold is shared.
When Dmitri speaks, Faolan doesn't respond, but there's a faint squeeze of his hand.
They should focus and not make more of this than it is. Any of it.
Sen, meanwhile, is following Rin's lead once more.
<.>
Dima will keep that offered palm, that slight squeeze in his chest as they continue.
Rin, having slipped from Sen's back (they were having such fun! but investigation requires subtleness and focus, alas), leads down the hall with— Oh, those are more steps, aren't they? This is an odd way to compose a house.
They're going to move forward slowly, checking for signs of disturbance in the floor, alert for any rooms.
<.>
no subject
Rin's taking their last five feet of movement to just steeep around that corner.
<.>
They find a room containing a plain wooden table flanked by long benches. They can see in the low lighting some oddness to the terrain - larger chunks of something rock-like around the table.
<.>
[ Weirdest place I've ever been. ] That may or may not be true. It feels true enough in this movement. Rin studies the room, brow furrowed. [ I'm looking at something in here, then I'm coming right back. Try not to let the others bore you to tears, okay? ]
Rin would like to approach the table and take a look at those chunks.
[INV: 22
dm: On closer examination, Rin is able to tell that the chunks are actually shattered - and gnawed - bones. They've been here long enough to begin to suffer from the ravages of time.]
Oh, good, gnawed!
Rin has decided they are finished with this room, and will be rejoining the others. They Message Sen: [ On my way over. Another weird room. ]
[q: Actually, a question: Did Rin here anything unusual, or any change of The Sound in that room?
a: The chanting does seem to be growing louder the more they head in a general that way and/or downward direction.]
When they reach the others, Rin gestures for another cluster. "I don't think we need to all go over there. It's full of bones? Okay not full, but there're a lot of pieces, a lot of them chewed on.
"I don't think the monster's there, though. Might be in that direction, but I don't think we're far enough down.
"Ready to head on?"
It is to Dima's credit that he doesn't insist on gathering a few chunks of that bone, or seeing them for himself. Just now, they have a task to keep them moving. He nods, once.
<.>
Faolan very briefly thinks of offering to split off from the party to go get Dmitri a few bones.
But that's stupid. For a lot of reasons.
Sen meanwhile has nothing to report; he glanced down the hall as far as he could see, but didn't do any detailed sweep, thinking Rin might want him to remain near the other two.
He is curious about the room they saw, but - well. Work to be done.
Faolan and Sen both nod their readiness, with one of them giving a hand a gentle press.
Meanwhile, in Rin-land—
[DEX, r: 22]
As Rin moves down the hall and take a step, the floor below their foot begins to crumble; indistinguishable from the rest of the hall's dirty floor is a layer of earth carefully covering a spike trap.
Rin's dexterity allows them to catch themself before becoming impaled on the spikes below, but they suffer 5 points of piercing damage and land prone.
Sen darts out to attempt to catch them when he sees what's happening, but doesn't reach them in time to stop the damage - only to help them up and out.
<.>
They're hissing quietly through their teeth - hurting from the pain, yes, but more presently annoyed that they walked into it - but stop when Sen helps them up. And, softly, "Looks like we're heading in the right direction, anyway."
To Sen: [ Gotta be more diligent checking for traps from here. :/ ]
<.>
Sen doesn't like seeing them injured one bit - and knows this wouldn't have happened if he checked for traps when they sent him to look down here.
He doesn't apologize - not yet, and not here - but he nods an affirmative and certainly looks rather unhappy with himself. With a glance back at Faolan, he almost asks for a healing spell of some sort, but the druid shakes his head and mouths wait.
For more damage to occur. Rin will live through a few puncture wounds, and it might be a good idea to reserve healing spells for now.
Sen gives him the finger and turns to help Rin around the spike trap, if that's the way they'd like to continue.
<.>
Rin is in fact determined to continue down this route. As far as they've found, traps usually mean someone's protecting something. (Or hiding.) (Or thinking they ought to hide.) (Or they just had an excess of traps and got bored one afternoon.)
The wounds don't slow them down; not yet, anyway. They've carried jobs through worse, and anyway, and anyway they don't want Sen feeling bad. (He didn't say anything, but they could see it.) So they put the pain out of their mind as best they can, and offer a balancing hand as Sen crosses the trap.
RIn looks back at the other two, then at Sen. [ Let's check the next bit together? Two sets of eyes can see better than two. ]
…Or, rather. Rin is going to begin checking the hall ahead for more traps.
[PERC
r: 14
s: 3
f: 23]
<.>
Faolan, rising on his toes to see around the two, does a quick visual sweep of the hallway, then pulls a face and shakes his head. No more traps here.
<.>
The guy's got good eyes; that's helpful to know! And Rin, nodding, moves forward, slower now. They pause at the top of the next steps; if there's a door to their left, they'd like to peer inside, but only if Sen's right behind them.
<.>
A hall does seem to stretch in that direction. It's difficult to tell where the chanting is coming from.
Faolan is going to carefully edge around the trap and help Dmitri, as well.
<.>
Dmitri will accept that help gladly and gratefully. And! Without saying anything! Though he does press that man's hand, just lightly.
Rin glances down both hallways, conflicted. They thought, they thought the noises were a little louder in the 'chowing down on bones' room. They don't know, and now they're not really sure they heard it like that, but there's not much else to work with.
...Unless.
They turn to the group. "Hey. What would happen if someone made the noises back at them? Helpful or no?"
It sounds like - it almost is - a very casual suggestion.
<.>
Sen looks intrigued, if only because noise is his business.
Faolan looks as though he's horrified but trying not to look horrified. Very softly, he replies, "Maybe we don't announce where we are."
<.>
Rin Messages Sen: [ It could be interesting, right? ]
But.
But Faolan makes an all right point. And probably, probably jeopardizing stealth isn't a great idea.
"That's kind of what I thought. I mean, I could cast a sound somewhere else. Or if any of you can transport voices or something, that'd be great.
"But we're doing all right with quiet so far." They shoot Dima a look that very clearly suggests they mean after that shield incident.
"So. Okay. We want to go toward where the sound maybe's a little louder?"
<.>
no subject
Sen smirks faintly. [ That's why we're not doing it. Too interesting for those taking up the rear. ]
His smirk falters just a little when he recalls Rin taking the fore is why Rin is hurt. (That, and Sen's neglect.)
<.>
Rin hesitates, watching Faolan, catching that falter in Sen's smirk, and then— "If you've got that kind of ear... Okay. I guess. Just take it slow." They'd warn further, but it seems like this guy has an okay handle on what they're doing here. And maybe it'd be helpful for Rin to just pause for a moment, get their bearings back in order.
Dima doesn't like this.
Dima hears Faolan's suggestion, and freezes, though he tries not to clench his fingers. (He doesn't want to let go.) (He doesn't want to let this man go on alone.)
(He also knows there's not much he can do to help just now— And knows that if he went with Faolan, he'd likely be an impediment.)
He swallows, glances around the hall. [ You don't have to do this.
...I'd go with you, only I— Mm. ] He squeezes Faolan's hand. [ I seem to recall one of use walking into a very large coat of arms.
Please. If you do this. Be careful. ]
<.>
Faolan gives Dmitri an odd look, but nods. Of course he'll be careful.
(Who ever cared before?) (Who was ever reluctant to let him go before?)
He pulls free and squeezes past Sen and Rin, whispering to all three of them, "I'll be fine."
He starts down the hall, listening with a furrowed brow (and rolling a nat 20 on perception!) until he comes to a four-way intersection of corridors.
And—
Everyone roll initiative.
[rin: 14
dima: 12
sen: 12
fae: 19
ghouls 1 + 2: 2
ghouls 3 + 4: 6 ]
Fae is going to alert the party that there's trouble by shouting "GET OFF ME" very loudly.
He's going to back up one step northward and cast Thunderwave.
First one takes 12 points of damage and is pushed 10 feet back, knocking it into the one that isn't taking any damage. Second takes 12 and is thrown back against the wall. Third takes 8 points and is pushed 10 feet out of the corridor.
And aside from drawing his scimitar, that ends his turn.
<.>
Rin is going to attempt a shot with the crossbow. [Nat. 20 >:o!] They do 8 points of damage to the ghoul.
Rin steps aside and ends their turn.
<.>
Sen is going to hold his turn and let Dima through because Dima is useful. And while doing so, he's going to give Dima his last bardic inspiration by backing up, pointing, and saying, "Well? Go be a hero."
<.>
Sen that is not inspiring—
Or.
Maybe. Maybe yes it is.
(Not that Faolan needs saving. Not that Faolan doesn't seem to be managing well, but— Well. But Dima will help as he can.)
He moves 15 feet, then turns down the hall, moves as near to Faolan as he can, then turns to see two ghouls.
And Dima—
Dima's back to his old tricks, because he needs something reliable right now. He's going to cast Burning Hands toward the two ghouls in front of him, hitting for 10 points of damage each.
<.>
Both take the full force of the blast; their bodies begin to char and their skin bubbles, but they don't fall.
Sen isn't sure what to do with everyone congesting the hallway and he can't see anything, so he's continuing to hold his turn.
And that brings us to the ghouls.
Okay first one gnashes its teeth at Dima - uh and its jaw falls off.
[note: It rolled a nat 1 and yes Dima just kind of raised an eyebrow at it.]
Second one lunges for Rin and bites at them, delivering 4 points of damage with its filthy mouth.
The last ghoul can’t reach anyone, so it’s up to Sen, who he is trying to rush to Rin to heal them, but goddamn Dima is in the way, so he's going to shove Dima back into Fae, and cast Healing Word on Rin, healing Rin for 8 points of damage.
[note: Rin thanks u, Sen! And Dima doesn’t hate where he is rn.]
[note: E counting the Dima-shove as Sen’s action.]
And that brings us to the top which is. Fae, who holds his turn.
<.>
Rin is going to take a literal stab at the ghoul beside them using the shortsword they just picked up from the chest. The hit for 2 points of damage, then drop their crossbow, and attempt a strike with the dagger that misses.
[dm: Rin slashes out with their new sword and lands a nice cut into the ghoul; it rears back in time for their second attack to miss it entirely.]
<.>
Sen is in an awkward position with a jawless ghoul.
Sen. Has an IDEA. And he is going to cast Cloud of Daggers right on top of the ghoul in front of him. And as that spell deals at least four damage, the ghoul succumbs to a sudden flurry of magical blades and falls to the ground.
As he's out of range, he's going to just step to the side.
<.>
Dima is going to stay precisely where he is, and attempt to cast ice knife on the ghoul that isn't next to Rin.
The ghoul is killed gone by the combination of initial hit and cold damage.
<.>
The remaining ghoul swipes at Rin with its claws for four points of damage.
[CON, r: 5]
Rin falls to the ground, paralyzed.
<.>
Rin’s back up! And attacks with the shortsword for 4 points of damage, then misses with their attempted dagger strike.
And Rin is going to disengage as a bonus action and move past the ghoul to the other side.
<.>
Dima casts Chill Touch on the last ghoul standing, for 5 points of damage.
<.>
Sen gives Dima another push back into his alcove with Fae, and will now use his crossbow.
The crossbow jams.
And Sen shouts "FOR FUCK'S SAKE".
Fae can't get to the ghoul, so he's holding his turn.
If nothing else, Sen got the ghoul's attention off Rin. And it misses him with its attack.
<.>
Dima. Is going to use his turn to step ouT of the way.
And since Fae has been VERY PATIENTLY HOLDING. And got hit with the fuckers first. AnD is def stronger than Dima.
He nods to Fae.
<.>
Fae, finding himself right there in front of the ghoul with his scimitar - he looks down at the blade, back up again.
And rolls a fucking 2.
<.>
Rin throws their dagger at the ghoul and—
Rin, baring their teeth at the ghoul but not even a liTtle smiling, their eyes flashing deep, glowing red, hurls the dagger into the shitty fucking ghoul, right in the pus-ridden eyeball, hissing “Will you QUIT IT?”
They are very, very pleased when the ghoul does in fact 'quit it'.
<.>
After defeating four ghouls that ambushed the party, a fight punctuated by Rin's "Would you QUIT IT", Faolan is the first to speak - softly, gently making his suggestions.
"We really need to work on our team tactics. I think we're all best if there's space to move."
"They know we're here. Maybe I ought to take the lead. Rin can stay hid and flank whatever comes. And you two can stop shoving each other. Don't make me separate you."
Sen, mostly.
"Stay at a distance if everything you've got is ranged."
And, gesturing almost wearily with his sword to the tunnel south, he adds, "We must be on to something."
Sen can't let that slide unprovoked and waits for Faolan to finish before replying, "He started it."
Just as promptly, maybe with a hint of humor, Faolan bats back, "I'm finishing it."
<.>
Rin nods; it sounds like a good idea to them, and Faolan's been more than capable already. (Rin is also still *annoyed* that they were caught by a trap anD paralyzed by a shitty very rude ghoul, and shadows are much better for subtle sulking.)
Dima smirks, just a little, little bit pleased by Faolan's response. He flashes Sen a pleased, triumphant smirk, then nods. "No more shoving; I think we can all be adults about this." ...Okay maybe he isn't. Entirely convinced of that. But he can try!
He looks to Faolan and speaks again, "Correct all around, I think." Though Dima doesn't like the thought of Faolan on the front lines of hazard. Though he's smarting still at the thought that he put Faolan in harm's way by ushering him toward the ghoul and the daggered cloud. (He wants to apologize for that.) (He's fairly certain this isn't the time.)
"When the ghouls attacked, did you see where they came from? Or what drew them to you?"
<.>
Faolan shakes his head. "I think they were just...lying there, waiting for something to come along. They don't seem like they're very clever tacticians, really.""
He eyes one, nudges it with his toe, then gives Dima a sidelong glance. "If you're going to - take anything. Now's the time."
<.>
He huffs a soft laugh; no, they wouldn't be very clever. And Dima's going to bend to examine the body. He doesn't expect to take anything, but he would like to see whether he can discern anything from these ghouls; how long they've been here, what their clothing might suggest.
[dm: There's nothing to tell from the bodies. They're either too charred, slashed, or rotted to tell anything of value from them.]
He traces a hand across one of the bodies, shakes his head. "There's nothing much to salvage." And, standing, sighing, "Leave it to ghouls to stand upon the pinnacle of futility." Ah, well.
A glance to Sen, a roll of his eyes. "What will it be, Sen? Rear, or do you dare to walk before me?"
<.>
Sen arches a brow at Dima, then bows low, ushering the man ahead of him. "Far be it from me to part you from your intrigues."
Faolan blinks at the pair, twists his lips, then turns away to start down the hall now that the blades have ceased their deadly whirling. He steps over the corpses; Sen, from the back of the line, simply steps on them.
Faolan's path takes them south, then left down the passage; it opens up into a room with a table in the middle, flanked by two high-backed chairs. An empty clay jug and two flagons sit atop it. In the corners are two iron candlesticks, their candles long since melted away. Above the table is a chandelier.
One door and one short hall lead from the room.
<.>
Rin suggests the door, because "We haven't seen many of these down here."
Dima is going to step toward the table, attempting to take a look at the flagons and jug, to see where any liquid is in the flagons, or whether any telltale residue may be seen.
<.>
Over time, the flagons have dried out entirely of whatever their contents may have been.
Faolan nods to Rin, but first moves toward the short hallway just to poke his head down that way and see whether it's worth checking out. Sen, of course, goes where Rin goes.
Faolan calls back softly, "It's a bedroom. Looks like there are torches and candles stored in there - could be helpful."
<.>
no subject
Rin's going to dart past Faolan and into the room, where they ask Fae via message if he's looked for traps; if he hasn't, they'd like to look.
Dima follows with less hurry, but no less interest. He'll hang toward the back of the group for now.
<.>
Faolan hasn't looked for anything at all. He does shoot a pained look at Dmitri when the thieves hurry past him. His hand stays resting on his scimitar's hilt as he follows them in.
<.>
Dima returns the look and adds another roll of his eyes. [ No rash of ghouls can dampen the bliss of thieves. ]
<.>
Taking up a large portion of the room is a large featherbed that was once opulent and is now simply rotting away. On one wall is a wardrobe; the torches Faolan mentioned are stored in a crate in the corner, and beside it is an open leather sack of candles.
A wooden footlocker is at the foot of the bed.
[PERC; checking for traps
d: 8; staring into a corner. thinkin about fae.
r: 22
f: 22
s: 17]
There are no traps.
<.>
Rin's going to gesture to the footlocker, indicating that Sir Sen ought to join them in this uncovering!
Dima's going to move to the wardrobe, and maybe he brushes just a little against Faolan, and maybe it was an accident or maybe is wasn't; who can say in such close quarters? The point is: Dima would like to look into the wardrobe, while Rin (with Sen? pls Sen?) would like to get into that footlocker.
<.>
The wardrobe proves to hold only some very old, black robes. Faolan barely notices the brush; his head is cocked as though he's listening to something beneath the ambient chanting, his brow furrowed.
Sen does in fact join Rin; the pair will find the chest is unlocked, and opening the lid reveals a small horde of treasures clearly taken from adventurers over time.
Rin will now also hear the noise Faolan is listening to: a shifting, scratching sound.
Slowly, carefully, Faolan says, "Everyone. Back up. Back out of the room."
[dm: The horde in the chest includes several potions and a very obvious spellbook alongside other tempting items of value.]
<.>
Rin's hand is on their shortsword immediately; at the first sign of the sound, their attention has been torn from the treasures (though they want to see what was there; it looked like an admirable collection!) (that sound can mean no good, though), and Faolan's words only sharpen their attentiveness.
Okay, yeah, the trove here looks good. ...The trove here looks too good, and it really ought to've been locked, and yes, yes, Rin's going to slip from the room, but not without nudging Sen, signaling emphatic agreement with Faolan's decision.
Dima was inclined to continue looking at the robes - the material, the make, whether any of them contain objects or suggestions of note - but Faolan's voice draws him back, sets him moving swiftly, carefully from the room.
He doesn't know what Faolan's observed. He also isn't going to doubt the man's suggestion; he simply moves.
<.>
Sen, who doesn't hear the sound, is agreeable enough to follow the suggestions made - but not before reaching out and trying to palm one of the potions. (17 Sleight of Hand).
It's not for certain that this caused what happens next, but.
Everyone roll initiative.
[dima: 17
rin: 18
fae: 9
sen: 8
ghast 1: 17
ghast 2: 20]
The walls of the bedroom crumble as two ghasts burst from hidden crevices. One makes for Faolan, and the other for Sen.
Ghast 2 (Sen) lunges at him, jaws wide, and he falls back into the wardobe as it attacks. His fall actually sends the Ghast *into* the wardrobe, giving Sen enough leeway to wriggle out and away from it. (Nat 1.)
The second Ghast (Faolan) likewise lunges, swiping at Faolan with its overgrown fingernails. It scratches him, dealing 8 points of slashing damage. And Faolan makes a constitution saving throw. He barely makes it.
<.>
Rin's going to use their bonus action to Dodge, then move into the room, past Sen, to attack the ghoul that's against Faolan, thinking about Faolan's earlier suggestion and about making sure Dima has space to join.
They're going to attack with the shortsword/dagger combo and—
Shortsword hits for 6 points, dagger misses.
<.>
Though Dima wants to hurry to Faolan, he sees one very clumsy ghast struggling amid some potentially very flammable cloaks and a potentially flammable wardrobe.
So Dima is going to cast Burning Hands against the ghast in the wardrobe.
[dm: The ghoul and the wardrobe take 8 points of fire damage; the clothes do begin to burn, and let's say that's 1d4 extra, and 1d4 at the start of the ghast's next turn if it fails a dex roll.]
Dima's going to use the rest of his movement (he's used 20ft so far) to back outtt of the room again.
<.>
Fae is going to draw his scimitar with his off hand. In his main hand, he's going to cast Flame Blade.
A flaming scimitar appears in his hand, shedding bright light in a 10-foot radius around him. And with that, he's going to attack, then make a bonus attack with his not-on-fire scimitar.
...The flame blade abruptly vanishes.
To be fair. It's the first time he's ever cast the spell. So. As a bonus action, he's going to just. Conjure that right back up, but it does mean his turn is over.
He is swearing his outrage right now.
Sen, meanwhile, has a potion bottle in one hand and really would like both hands free to cast or fight, so he does the sensible thing: he throws it at the creature attacking Rin.
(“Attacking.”) (“Rin.”)
Okay; he makes a 14 on the ranged attack; the potion arcs across the room and shatters against the ghast. The moment the liquid inside is exposed to air, it bursts into flames, engulfing the creature, doing 3 points of damage.
The ghast remains on fire, clawing at itself and screeching, and will take 1d4 damage at the start of each turn unless it makes a Dex saving throw.
Top of the round!
The very angry, very on-fire ghast fails it dexterity saving throw and takes 1 point of damage. Enraged, it lashes out at Rin with its claws. And with disadvantage. The fire and Rin's super sneaky sneakness are too much for the ghast to overcome; it misses entirely.
Brings us to the other on-fire ghast, which has successfully wrenched itself free of the closet and is going for Sen. It manages to latch on to him and sink its teeth into his shoulder, dealing 10 points of piercing damage. Sen cries out in pain but can't shake off the ghast.
<.>
Rin's going to begin by using their bonus action to Disengage so they can scurry over to (try to) help Sen.
They move to take a crossbow shot, and miss.
<.>
Dima casts Mind Spike on the shit that’s trying to eat Sen, for 5 psychic damage.
<.>
Sen: Shouting in pain.
Fae’s turn. He's going to try another attack with his scimitars. Nothing with the flaming scimitar; hit with the second for 6 points of damage. He's going to stay right there, keeping this one off the others while they help Sen.
[note: Rin is shouting very loudly at the one attacking Sen!! Insulting their fashion sense!!]
Sen is going to disengage, moving himself away from the fucker. He's going to cast Dissonant Whispers; under his breath, he sings a jarring, discordant song that only the ghast can hear. The ghast takes 13 points psychic damage.
That ghast is gone and dead now.
The last ghast lashes out at Faolan again and misses.
<.>
Rin misses both of their attacks, and uses their bonus action to Disengage.
<.>
Dima doesn't want to risk Fae getting hurt
He also knows he'll have a better chance of hitting if he holds his attack and waits until Faolan has stepped aside, so. He'll finish up his movement and hold his action until Fae's gone.
<.>
Last try for Faolan with that goddamn flaming sword. He hits! Fae doesn't bother swinging it this time. He just stabs it into the ghast's midsection for 9 points damage.
He tries for a stab with his off-hand, misses. So, he's going to pull the flame blade out and move out of Dima's way.
<.>
Dima casts Mind Spike for 15 points damage.
And!
Dima. Would like to in a very exasperated voice say, “You just had to grab something, Sen."
As he focuses on the very center of that ghast's very pea brain. Closes his fist. Then opens it as psychic damages strikes the center of the shit's mind.
<.>
no subject
With a final wail, Elisabeth crumples to the ground, now little more than a smoking heap of charred flesh and exposed bone.
He may have the sense that this insight didn't come from his spell, but rather from the rings he wears.
<.>
Dima is. Very suddenly. Very still. And looking concerned, his hand still half-lifted.
He'll absolutely look at his hand and the rings upon it.
Places his hand over the rings and think, ’I’m very sorry. Sorry you saw that. Sorry I brought you here.
'But the ones who gave you so much pain are gone now.’
[ARC: 16; with Bardic Inspiration from Sen]
<.>
Though he can't interpret the specifics of what's being communicated, there's a a sense from the rings that floods through and past him: grief, yes, but also gratitude.
Dima understands the children are thanking him for putting their parents' spirits to rest.
Later, Rose may verbally convey to him that those things weren't their parents anymore.
<.>
Dima's going to sink onto the bed, cross-legged, staring at the rings and fighting a subtle burn in his eyes, and a worried relief, a sense like... What, achievement? Like having done something, taken part in managing something worthwhile.
He's rubbing his hand; he's rubbing the rings. He's nearly forgotten the scene around him.
And he thinks, ’I will keep you safe. No more absence. You're with me, and here you'll stay.’
(A thought, not put to clarity, not meant for the children's hearing: He'd like for there to be four of them. Another to care for the children beside Dmitri, and there is only one other who would do— But that's not the focus for the moment. He has to be more careful with Fae.)
<.>
Faolan has been watching whatever's happening with Dmitri, and though he doesn't have specifics, he sees the man looking at the rings.
Undone by something to do with the rings.
He looks around the room and takes a breath, eyeing Sen and Rin, looking down at his own wounds as the flame blade vanishes.
"I think -" he starts, then decides maybe to stop saying I think, and instead just say what he means. "We need to rest. Really rest. This seems like a good place, if we drag out the bodies and -"
He gestures to the burning wardrobe.
"Douse that."
"It's only got the one entrance. We can block it, take turns keeping watch. Take turns sleeping."
Sen doesn't argue. He's holding one hand over the bite wound at his shoulder to stem the flow of blood and can't agree more: he needs a rest. Still, he casts a glance at Rin to seek their opinion, first.
<.>
Rin is, in fact, already staring at Sen with clear concern, and they're already nodding. "It's smart. Since we don't know how far this goes—" They shrug with one shoulder, settle just a little closer to Sen, offering him their shoulder, their horns to rest on. "And I'd rather heal a little before moving on. There was that whole spikes in a pit incident, you know. :/" And there's the whole. Sen actively bleeding out thing. Which they don't care for at all.
<.>
Very softly, Sen whispers, "I'm very sorry, Pretty Rin."
<.>
Rin huffs a soft sound of faux disapproval. "Don't you dare be sorry, Sir Sen. Just close your eyes and get some sleep, okay? You destroyed a creature just there; now you've got to rest up."
Dima slowly, slowly becomes aware of what's happening around. It takes a minute to piece together the questions, the propositions, and then he nods agreement, shaking his head, rising. "I'll take first watch. There's a spell I can cast— An extra precaution against approach. It'll alert us all if anything breaks the barrier." Alarm; he'll cast Alarm, settle in for his watch, then - hopefully - sleep soundly.
He's very tired, he's realizing.
And he's gazing at Faolan again. There's an upward tick of his lip, a smile both apologetic and appreciative, and he Messages: [ That was skillful work with the blade, Faolan. A flaming scimitar? That's very good. ]
And: [ We all have quite some way to go, but I believe we owe you a good deal for your talk on teamwork. There wasn't a single push this time; that's a start, yes? ]
Once the fire has been doused and the bodies removes, Dima is going to cast Alarm, encompassing the room and the hall leading to it. If anything crosses the line, the sound of a hand bell will fill their room.
<.>
Faolan helps this process with Control Flames, extinguishing the wardrobe's fire with a motion that almost...mimics. What Dima did only yesterday.
He doesn't respond to the messages, but as he watches Sen and Rin curl up together in a corner - Sen somewhat better after a healing spell sent his way by Faolan - he thinks...
He thinks.
And he glances at Dmitri.
And after a moment: [ I'll sit up with you. ]
Faolan positions himself on the floor ten feet from the beginning of the hallway, his back to the wall, deaf to any arguments from Dmitri. After a hesitation, he extends a hand and - with tired amusement:
[ For stealth? ]
<.>
He does try, at first, to insist that Faolan sleep. He's been wounded; he'll need his rest to heal, and to regain his magic.
But it'd be a little easier to keep watch, wouldn't it, with Fae beside him? (It'd be easier to hold the knowledge, the sensations he's just gleaned. It'd be easier not to fall into wondering just what he's done, and what all of this means.)
And of course. And of course, Dima would like very much to sit beside this man.
So he ceases protestation with the sight of Faolan's hand. So he smiles, tired, and settles in beside the man, clasping his hand, not over-tight, but showing no sign of release.
[ For stealth. ]
And.
[ Thank you, Faolan. ]
<.>
The "night" passes uneventfully; Dima and Fae are able to prepare their spells while they sit up; they spend the rest of the watch talking with Dima's Message cantrip. Eventually they trade off with Sen and Rin, and though Fae doesn't touch him, he lies close to Dima while he sleeps. Near enough to give the impression he's protecting the man.
As they swap, Sen will find the chest still open at the foot of the bed. Touching the contents summons nothing further, and within it he finds:
- Four potions of healing
- a chain shirt
- a mess kit
- a bullseye lantern
- a set of thieves' tools
- a spellbook with a yellow leather cover, containing the following mage spells:
1st level: disguise self, identify, mage armor, magic missile, protection from evil and good
2nd level: darkvision, hold person, invisibility, magic weapon
Sen argues this last should go to Dima as spoils of victory; Dima has enough time to prepare spells from this list, if he chooses.
Seven or eight hours pass; the party is back to full health, full spell slots, has eaten, and is ready to continue searching for whatever is lurking in the bowels of the house's dungeon.
Between sleeping and waking, Dima hears a voice speaking to him, but the message is unclear. He has a strong urge, near-obsessive, to grab hold of the raven totem when he wakes.
What would everyone like to do?
<.>
no subject
He does this as he's waking, head still a little hazed from sleep. (Still. Even so, even with the fuzziness of waking, he notices Faolan nearby, and feels a curl of a warmth, a moment's hesitation before he continues reaching for the bird.)
[dm: When he touches the totem, he feels a strong instinct for the direction the party should go.
When everyone is ready, Dima will feel that they should go back to the place where the path split before Faolan ran into the ghouls.]
Dima, with this notion in his head, is going to resettle his pack and look through the spellbook; he'll spent 50gp to learn and so prepare protection from evil and good. He'll also suggest that they each take a potion, and redistribute along the way if necessary.
He'll also suggest going exactly where he now feels they should go; to that place and its split path. He's not going to question this impulse; he's only going to stand firmly by it.
Rin will be placing anything unclaimed from the loot in the Bag of Holding. They're feeling much brighter after a night of healing. No, they don't love being in the depths of this place, but for once it was kind of nice not spending the night alone.
They're going to look at Dima questioningly, and ask, word drawn out long: "W h y."
<.>
Faolan doesn't see anything particularly wrong with this; it feels as though they've gone as far as they can in this direction, and Dmitri seems so certain. It's nice to have (Dmitri) someone else making the decisions.
Sen would like an explanation as well, though. Did Dima notice something in the night? Is he just being himself?
Probably being himself.
He catches Rin's gaze and rolls his eyes. [ Likely just reminding us who's in charge, now he's got some more ammunition. Absolute power cunts absolutely. ]
<.>
Rin just gives a little huff. [ Can't argue with that. :/ If we walk back into ghoul central, that's HIS problem. ] And, out loud, "I guess we can check it out. Faolan, you at the front again?"
Dima is going to say as little as possible - no use unsettling things when his suggestion seems to be winning out, and thank Faolan for that - and mostly watches Fae.
He also runs a finger along the raven totem, still wrapped, but now placed within his pocket.
<.>
Faolan shrugs, agreeable after his rest and feeling more as though he has, from his communion with the nature of this place, better prepared himself for whatever might be hiding in the dark. "I think you two especially ought to keep to the shadows, though; it's all right if it sees me coming. Whatever 'it' is."
With that, he'll take the lead and both he and Sen will make an attempt to stealth.
<.>
Rin and Dima will both attempt stealth, though Dima plans to linger a little behind... Just in case.
[STEALTH
f: 21
s: 18
r: 22
d: nat 20]
<.>
Faolan watches Dima vanish beautifully into the shadows and raises a brow, wondering if the man's been feigning incompetence all this time just for a hand to hold.
And the impulses of the totem lead Dima and the party back to where I've drawn a bullseye sort of thing.
From there, down the stairs.
As they travel downward, the space around them turns darker; anyone without darkvision will need a source of light.
Also as they move, the chanting grows louder and the words more clear: "He is the Ancient! He is the Land!"
Fae lights one of the torches they found, casting a glow of about ten feet square around him. The hallway seems to end at the bottom of one more flight of stairs.
Fae's vision allows him only what the glow of the torch allows.
And. The space is a large, with thirteen niches in the walls, each containing what appear to be cult relics. At the center of the room is a cage, five feet by five feet square. Something within wavers in and out of visibility, like a mirage.
Faolan is going to let the others know as quietly as he can that he can't see far.
<.>
Dima, fascinated by the... image, the phenomenon (the creature?) in the cage, curious about the relics, speaks soft, "Here."
And Messages Faolan: [ Stay beside me. I'd like to look at everything; I could use your eyes, as well. ]
He holds out his hand; he cants his head.
Rin would like to scout the edges of the room, juuust to make sure they won't be interrupting. They'll be checking for traps as they go.
And, they message Sen: [ Perimeter check? ]
<.>
Sen responds, [ Perimeter check! ] and tracks in the opposite direction. There are no traps in the room that they can see. Sen will be examining the relics and possibly taking a few.
• A small, mummified, yellow hand with sharp claws (a goblin’s hand) on a loop of rope
• A knife carved from a human bone
• A dagger with a rat’s skull set into the pommel
• An 8-inch-diameter varnished orb made from a nothic’s eye
• An aspergillum carved from bone
• A folded cloak made from stitched ghoul skin
• A desiccated frog lashed to a stick (could be mistaken
for a wand of polymorph)
• A bag full of bat guano
• A hag’s severed finger
• A 6-inch-tall wooden figurine of a mummy, its arms crossed over its chest
• An iron pendant adorned with a devil’s face
• The shrunken, shriveled head of a halfling
• A small wooden coffer containing a dire wolf’s withered tongue
Sen will later give the daggers and the severed finger to Faolan.
Faolan takes Dmitri's hand for a moment, but thinks this can't possibly work if they need to fight. So, almost immediately, he tugs Dmitri to a halt and shakes his head, then douses the torch flames. He's been avoiding this - careful not to give away too much about himself - but he can't see.
He's banking on the space around where he's aiming to be clear of any thieves, but again: he can't see for shit. Aiming behind him into the stairwell, he summons his Wildfire Spirit.
A fiery wolf - a reflection of his own beast form - forms the space, illuminating the walls around it and apparently doing no harm upon arrival. Faolan has a look full of fondness, gratitude (relief) (sadness), a faint smile just for the spirit.
Pointing, he indicates the room plunged in darkness. The spirit trots past, looking up at him and Dmitri but not pausing.
It starts to make a slow circuit around the room, giving Faolan a sense of the space thanks to the light it casts.
<.>
It's admirable magic, and the creature - the wolf (think of Faolan's reaction to the rooms upstairs, the gruesome, ruinous symbology made from wolves) - flickers beautifully with flame.
Dima watched the casting of the spell; Dima caught the look an Faolan's expression, and wonders at its meaning; wonders what this creature means to him.
The wolf is beautiful; that's certain. The magic is well-honed.
And Dima watches them both in turn - man and wolf - for a long more-than-moment as the spirit trots around the room.
He does, eventually, Message Faolan: [ It's lovely. ]
Rin didn't see the casting of the spell. Doesn't sense Faolan at work, focused as they are on examining the relics - they'd like to take more than a few of these, and they do immediately pocket the frog - until there's a burst of light, until they turn and see a—
Not enemy, apparently.
Faolan's something? That's...
Well. They don't disagree with fiery creatures.
And they're going to return to their examinations, trying to decide whether these are relics widely known, or whether they seem to be secret, perhaps unstoried.
[INV, r: 9
dm: They really can't tell anything about the items, other than they look like they'd be relics.]
Rin is going to nod their head to themself at this conclusion, and start looking very closely at each relic in turn, examining the details. Less for the purposes of gleaning further information; more for aesthetic appreciation.
They will Message Sen: [ Love a room full of relics! ]
<.>
Faolan can't see much with the spirit across the room, but he studies what he can make out of Dmitri's face, the tender expression gone now. [ It's many things. 'Mine' and 'part of me', foremost. ]
It's a warning, of sorts. A caution, maybe, or a plea that Dmitri not harm it. (Or Faolan.)
He adds, [ And yes, 'lovely'. Thank you. ]
Sen finds an eyeball and chucks it across the room at Rin, over the head of the wildfire spirit. In part, he wants to see what the wolf will do. But also, eyeball relics.
The wolf pauses, staring at Sen, in a way that makes him feel rather...guilty? before it continues on its circuit around the room.
[ That thing's as dull as Faolan. ]
<.>
no subject
Dima watches Faolan carefully; looks at the spirit after the man begins to speak, then back to Fae. There's quite a lot contained in what's been said. This also isn't the time to pry into it, or attempt to draw pieces together for himself, but he gleans that this spirit is dire to Faolan - to say the least, he thinks - and he nods in the darkness.
[ Better than 'lovely,' yes. ]
And, because he realizes Faolan may not have seen Dima's nod, he settles a light touch, the slightest hint of an assuring brush, to Faolan's forearm, then moves to the cage at the center of the room.
Dima's going to attempt to figure out what the image is, and what it's doing here.
[WIS, d: 6]
<.>
As Dima approaches the cage, he begins to hear a piercing shriek in his mind; the sound will continue until he moves five feet away from the cage.
However, the apparition within begins to solidify when he gets WITHIN five feet - sort of. The creature seems to be in a persistent state of flux, shifting forms between nothingness, a black serpentine body, and a raven.
This constant shift is clearly causing it pain.
Sen is also within five feet now. And he, too, fucks his saving throw and hears the piercing sound in his head. He covers his ears and reels back from the cage, finding that doing so makes the un-sound stop. "What the fuck.”
The wolf kind of glances at the cage, but moves past unharmed.
<.>
Dima flinches against the sound, slamming one hand against his ear, but doesn't back away.
He's caught sight of the— Creatures? Creature. He sees, and watches fascinated, an ache in his chest he doesn't understand, and scarcely feels beneath the shrieking pain. If he thought for a moment that the creature formed the source of the shriek, he now wonders whether that's so, or whether this noise, this pain has been set in place to pain the creature.
Dima's going to put one hand on the case. And, thinking of the impulses that led him here, thinking of one of the shapes in formation, he clasps his hand around the totem in his pocket, now slipped free of its covering.
And, scarcely able to hear his own thoughts, he'll attempt to Message the creature within: [ I see you. Can you hear me? ]
Rin is watching the occurrences around the cave, the eyeball still in-hand as they try to decide whether the fire wolf might like to play with a frog on a stick. At Sen's clear pain, they rush over to him, [ Hey, what's happening? Are you all right? ]
<.>
The creature continues to shift from form to form, but its writhing stills for a moment; it sees Dima. A flash of something like, but not, a hand reaching out appears in Dima's mind.
He sees an image of open, alien sky. An image of the cage, an image of a serpentine corvid with its wings spread against the sky.
The shriek continues, agonized.
Faolan approaches Dmitri when the wolf returns and casts its glow on the man and the cage; he doesn't hear the sound, perhaps protected by the wolf's presence.
Reaching out, he places a hand on Dmitri's arm - not necessarily for attention, but to let him know he's here.
Sen takes another step back, lip curled in not-exactly-disgust. A sharpish gesture at the cage precedes, [ That thing. Don't get close, whatever it is. ]
<.>
[q: Did the shrieking stop or change in volume when the writhing stilled? Or ig more aptly, would Dima have noticed any change?
a: Dima would have noticed the shrieking and imagery moved in tandem, like a person screaming in pain might cry for help.]
Dima doesn't remove his hand from the cage. Doesn't move at all, teeth grit, hand clenched around the totem. He's on the verge of falling into these images, trying to reach further, see more, wondering 'Why are you in there' and 'Who put you there' and above all 'How, how can I free you'—
A touch (Faolan; he's certain) brings him back to himself, and to awareness of the shrieking (it's her, after all) that brings him to another flinch. He jerks his head to find Faolan's eyes and speaks aloud - perhaps a little too loudly, not quite aware he isn't Messaging, unable to gauge volume in the shrieks - "I need to get her out."
And: "Please."
Dima would, if he can at this moment, like to inspect the cage. He's also going to add, this time in Message: [ What do you make of this cage? ]
[ARC, d: 21]
<.>
Dima can ascertain that there are several spells composing the cage; primarily Forcecage, but it would appear another spell has been used to keep the creature perpetually shapeshifting and unable to control its form. The momentarily vanishing and reappearing may be the creature attempting to flee to its plane of origin and failing (a Charisma throw) over and over and over.
Dima would know that the cage can't be dispelled by magic.
He would know that teleportation or interplanar travel would allow the creature to escape, but only if it has honed its skill to do so. (High enough Charisma.)
He would know that the magic causing the creature pain is different than the magic keeping it trapped, and that this can be dispelled, at least giving the creature relief, if not freedom.
Faolan knows none of this, but he notices the bars are 1/2 inch apart.
[ If we could make it smaller, maybe it can squeeze through these bars. ]
However, he admits, [ I've never seen anything like this before. ]
It's clear from his expression that he doesn't want to leave the creature in pain.
With a tragic, sorrowful frown and a cant of his head: [ If we can't free it, it might be kinder to - ]
Apparently, the creature in the cage can hear what Dmitri hears, and an amplified wail, enraged and helpless, interrupts what he was going to suggest. The sound is so loud, everyone who fails a wisdom saving throw against the creature's DC 15 takes (1d4 - 1) points of psychic damage.
Fae fails and takes 2 points of psychic damage and immediately backs up with a grunt, then holds up his hands. "We won't! All right! We won't! I'm sorry!"
Sen takes no damage. The wolf takes no damage.
<.>
Dima takes 2 points of damage. Rin takes 3 points.
There is so much Dima wishes.
That he'd begun his training earlier; that he'd had more time to hone and gather spells.
That Faolan hadn't been wounded; that Faolan hadn't Messaged what he did (Dima had felt a pain in that, himself, an instant before the creature's wail).
That the being had never been encaged. That Dima might have found her first.
That he was thinking clearer; that he had a godsdamned answer.
He flinched at the sudden spike of pain; he can't and he won't fault her for that. Still, his hand remains on the glass. Still, he keeps his eyes fixed on her.
[ We're going to fix this.
You won't be left here. It hurts, I know, but as soon as we can, we'll find a way. ]
After a brush of his fingertips against the cage, he steps back, finds the shrieking stops— And feels, almost, an impulse to return. To not leave her along with her cries.
Still. Still, he won't be of any use if he can't keep himself focused.
"I don't know what put her here, or why." He might be talking to himself, or to Faolan, or to the group as a whole. At his side, his fingers flex uneasily. "She's caught within a tangle of spells. We need— If we could dispel one piece of it, it'd help immensely. Or if anyone has access to another plane."
Now he does look around at all of them - Faolan, the wolf, Sen, and Rin in turn - looking a little bit lost, and entirely determined.
"Did anyone determine whether there's anything in the alcoves we might use? Rather— Do any contain arcane properties?"
Dima may. Have been very, very focused on this one task, and will be difficult to dissuade from following it through.
<.>
Sen hasn't had a look at any of it, but - sensing Dima's urgency - hurries to look over everything he and Rin have found.
Rolled a 15, which is juuust high enough to tell that most of it's junk - except the frog on a stick. It actually *might* be a wand of polymorph.
<.>
Rin. Will pass it over to Sen.
(Though they still want to know if the wolf would like to play with it.)
<.>
Sen promises they can have it back after.
Sen passes over the wand, and then, on a whim, Faolan asks, "What else have we got? Surely we've found something or one of us knows a spell?"
<.>
Rin - with a strong, strong warning that they will only hand over what has an actual chance of being valuable - will show the silver shortsword, the silver-backed hairbrush, and the jewelry box with its platinum necklace. They don't want to show these things. They also get the sense something's going on here, because Dmitri looks like he's liable to go off his shit.
While they display the objects, they shake their head. "I don't know what good my spells would do. Unless I can disguise the cage into thinking it's something else or— I guess I can make a hand. Or sounD like the bird and make that box think it's got the wrong target?"
"...There's also the gemstone. From that guy, with the trees. I dunno what thaT does."
Dima's thinking through this information. He'll also explain what he discerned about the cage and the spells. He notes that Fae's suggestion of a resizing spell might be worth trying, at least.
A thought. It might not make it through the barrier but— "Sen. Could you give her a little encouragement?"
Sen. Can you inspire the creature?
<.>
Sen and Faolan are having the same thought as Dima.
Sen frowns and comments, "It won't be much use with whatever's got hold on - her, is it?"
Strange.
Faolan is looking at Rin and thinking -
If he had a feather.
And if they had a miracle.
The gemstone on Wythall, Faolan is sure possesses a spell to awaken plants. But what would one need if that became a problem?
He draws the pearl from his pocket and stares at it., then looks around at the faces of the others, illuminated by the glow of his wildfire spirit. "Can anyone see what this does?"
As it happens.
Sen can.
He takes the pearl and casts Identify, then huffs. All the shit luck they've had, and finally something useful?
He passes it back to Faolan. "It dispels magic."
Faolan laughs mirthlessly, then looks sidelong at Dmitri. "I kept it, thinking I might - well. Here."
And, as he passes it along. "If Sen's aid doesn't get her out, I think I might be able to give her a little more, if Rin's magic hand can get a feather from her."
<.>
Dima's watching Faolan as he takes the pearl, needing it, wanting badly to take and put it to use immediately— But there's something in the man's face that gives him pause. He wraps his fingers light around the pearl and watches the man. "I'll find something to replace this; I swear it."
And, with a smile touch by worry, touched with urgency: "Thank you, Faolan. Thank you."
Before anything else, he's going to dispel the magic that's causing the creature - her - pain.
<.>
Faolan thinks, but doesn't say, it was always meant for you, anyhow.
As the magic fades, the creature falls to the ground, no longer suspended in perpetual shapeshift. It looks terribly small, its wings weary - but the shrieking vanishes along with the magic.
She lifts her head to look at Dima, and there's a passage of thought-impression between them that tells of relief.
And perhaps oddly, approval, as though she thinks Dima and his group has done well. (Or correctly.)
Faolan watches this, then glances down at the spirit that has come to stand at his side. And looks back again, between Dmitri and the creature.
Ah.
He sees.
And smiles, faintly. Dmitri is finding so much of himself here.
It's Sen who speaks up first. "When she's ready, I'll do what I can. Maybe she ought to rest before giving it the old college try, though."
<.>
"Thank you, Sen." He speaks, voice distant from his own ears. Dima's approach the cage again and watches the creature within, his smile small, sad, and carried with its own relief. "And thank you, Faolan, I— Thank you."
He watches the creature, Messages: [ That's one step.
Would you like to rest before jumping? ]
And, gently: [ If you can spare a feather, we may— Faolan. May. ] He knows sparked irritation with himself, with what little he has to aid her, but tamps it down; this isn't the time. [ He may be able to lend further aid. ]
Rin has already conjured Mage Hand, and is moving around some of the relic-looking objects while they watch and wait.
<.>
He thinks about warning them that the spell will deplete his resources - and he might need that capability when they face whatever trapped this poor creature.
But he sees Dmitri's face when he looks at her and thinks it's worth the risk.
Instead, he looks back to Rin and almost smiles at the game they're boredly playing. "Can you reach in there and grab one of her feathers for me? I'm worried if any of us tries to stick an arm in, we'll be stuck, as well."
<.>
"Mmhmmm."
They get the hand to unceremoniously drop a very dubious-looking cloak, and drift it toward the cage. They'll wait for the creature to approach, or to offer a feather, before having the hand take it and drift it over to Faolan.
<.>
Faolan murmurs thanks and thinks he really, really owes Rin for everything they keep giving up for the party; he breathes and - despite having just said no one should stick an arm into the cage - sticks his arm into the cage and presses a hand against the creature.
Almost immediately, he finds out what happens when one sticks an arm in the cage: he's forced away, but not before casting a spell to enhance her abilities.
Sen likewise hums a few bars of a pleasant, floating sort of tune to inspire her further.
[CHA, liv: 20, with Enhance Ability from Fae and Bardic Inspiration from Sen]
After a moment of recovery, the creature rises, spreads its wings for one final attempt to planeshift - and vanishes from the cage.
<.>
Dima knows a surge of joy, hears his own voice in something that sounds like a yelp, like a cheer. His hands are pressed against the bars and if there's sorrow at her absence, it's currently overrun by bright happiness, by relief that she's no longer in the cage.
Even if she never shows again (he... hopes she does) (of course it's her choice, but didn't he feel something, hasn't he always known himself in search of something, someone, a being like a raven?), at least she's free.
He can't quite look away yet. He thinks, 'You DID it.'
And to the group, he speaks, "She made it.
"Thank you. All of you. She's— She's free."
Rin could point out they'd only grabbed a feather.
Really, though, they're glad to see the creature out of there; whatever that cage is, it seemed like a wretched kind of torment. Whatever the creature is, Rin can't think there's any cause for them to have been caught in there.
Watching the scene, they've been setting the seeming relics into the bag of holding. For the moment, they don't speak; only continue in their work, mostly watching Sen.
<.>
no subject
He also pauses and, when no one's looking, kisses one of their horns. [ You were and are and ever will be magnificent. ]
Faolan reaches out, hesitates with his hand hovering above Dmitri's shoulder, then lightly touches him. (Comforts him.) (It's aching, the first time they vanish.) There's a shift of his hand that might be a tracing back of Dmitri's hair.
"She'll find you again. Soon, now she knows where you are. What you are to her."
A beat and, "We're not out of the woods yet, Dmitri."
His hand lifts and turns, palm up in offering, in invitation.
<.>
Sometime, yes.
Sometime— Maybe. If Dima wasn't mistaken in what he felt. If it wasn't only his wishfulness.
It's a little easier to believe when Faolan speaks.
When Faolan touches his shoulder, seems to brush with his hand. Signs Dmitri takes as commiseration. Signs Dmitri takes as suggesting that Faolan saw what he felt— And. And given the way Faolan spoke of his wolf, looks at his wolf and seems so easily to communicate, Dima suspects he knows much of these companionships.
(If only.) (There's time; there's so much time, and he doesn't want to push her. Doesn't want to force a thing at all.)
He looked back when Faolan touched his shoulder, feeling half within a dream. Now Dima turns to face the man, one hang still lingering on the cage, and the other—
The other reaching out, of course. Immediate, instinctive, and Dima feels just a little more settled, a little more grounded (and at once, curled through with gratitude) with his hand in Faolan's.
"I'd like to believe so."
And he nods, the details of the day, the place they're in, the work they have yet to do filtering back in slowly. "I appreciate what you've done— What all of you have done.
"For now— Yes. I think we move along."
<.>
The party collects themselves and find the chanting is louder still as they approach the two corridors leading from the reliquary room. The corridor furthest from the stairs slopes down 20 degrees into murky water and ends at a portcullis. The other seems to continue on and turn right.
As there's little else of value to be found or done here, what would the party care to do next?
Rin looks down at the water, shakes their head. "Guess this gives us an easy option." And, after a moment. "What do you think; send scouts ahead to take a look in the dark, or take the risk of light? ...I don't love the thought of splitting up, so there's that."
Dima's going to add, "Light or no light may not matter; I expect whatever's down here is accustomed to the dark."
[q: Is the chanting in Common?
a: The chanting is indeed in Common.]
In that case, Dima's also going to ask if anyone has by some chance got any idea what these fucking chants are about, or what 'The Land' might mean.
<.>
Faolan shakes his head and sighs. "We'd better stick together. They know we're here. They must know where we are, after -"
He motions to the now-empty cage.
"If no one knows what the chanting means, it's time we go find out."
Sen, thinking perhaps Rin might be a little disappointing there won't be any stealthing, whispers, "If it's a cult of shitheads, turn one of them into a frog."
And if there are no objections, Faolan's wolf will lead, with Faolan not far behind, following the light it casts.
<.>
No objections!
And Rin latches on to that suggestion; *that* could be fun! They'll just keep the frog wand close at hand.
Dima will, of course, follow after Faolan.
<.>
The corridor they follow leads them into what appears to be a prison. Against the walls in alcoves are shackles with traces of remains, though the majority of the bones may well be upstairs in the "dining hall".
Faolan follows the path to where it dead ends, and turns back to the group in confusion.
<.>
Dima, to the surprise of everyone, would like to go around and take a close look at the remains. To see whether there's anything to identify who or what these bodies were and how long they've been here.
Also, you know. To snag some bones.
Dima also doesn't want to leave Faolan, so he'll cast a glance toward him, an unspoken 'Follow me?'
Rin's brow is furrowed. "We'd better not be going through that water. :/ But. Maybe there's something here? A hidden passage? Seems like something a place like this could have." They look at Sen, they lift their eyebrows. "Have had already, though I guess that one led tO the skeleton."
Whatever the case, Rin's going to look for inconsistencies in the architecture, places where the dust might be a little less thick, or any object that might seem odd in its placement.
[PERC, r: Rin thinks this prison isn't cool enough for secret passageways and their attention is diverted by the presence of earthworms.]
Rin is now prodding a couple of earthworms with their frog wand.
<.>
Faolan follows along behind as Dima inspects, searches, and loots the skeletons. In one alcove, they happen upon a skeleton wearing the remains of the same robes they found in the Dursts' room upstairs.
Further inspection will turn up a gold ring on one of its fingers.
[q: Regarding the ring, does it bear any resemblance to the ones Dima's wearing?
a: It does not, nope.
q: Are there any markings or particularities of design on the ring?
a: Nope, just a gold ring!]
Sen thinks that Rin has a good idea searching for secret passageways, but then sees what they're doing with the earthworms and finds that far more interesting.
<.>
While Dima searches the alcoves the the eastern side of the prison, Faolan leans against the wall and watches him, head cocked introspectively. The light from his wolf flickers against his skin; Faolan isn't aware of the tempting picture he is but the DM really thinks Dima ought to take advantage of the moment.
<.>
Dima's taking a look at the ring, is reaching to work it off the skeleton's finger, when he happens to look up—
He.
Well, he.
He's never seen anyone so heart-stammering, and though he thinks Faolan would steal his breath in every light, something about this light, flickered with shadow and flame, suits him especially.
It is and it isn't only the man's physical beauty. It's something in his eyes; a glow complimented by the fire. It's a twined softness and restrained fury; the look of a man who's lived his own kind of burning, who knows both the damage and the mercy fire can bring, and who's learned to make his home among fire. (Perhaps among ashes. Perhaps this is a fire he grew from wreckage; a resurrection in brilliant human form.)
Faolan is astonishing. Dima's heart is racing. And he thinks— He forgot somewhere to breathe, of course he did. And he doesn't know how long he's been staring.
<.>
Faolan realizes Dmitri is staring at him (and maybe he was staring back, but this is different, this is other) and raises his brows a little.
He could be coy and ask 'what?', or (do like he once did, bite his lower lip and incline his head in invitation-) (No.) he could acknowledge the look.
Or pretend it isn't happening.
Or -
Just. Smile faintly.
He looks down and shifts two fingers at the wolf's fiery nose, then cuts a glance up again to see if he's still being watched.
"Had your fill of skeletons already?"
<.>
He's. Been caught.
He'd be worried, he might be a little, little bit ashamed, but that faint smile sets him at ease; if nothing else, Faolan doesn't seem to be upset. So Dima ducks his head softly, hair falling just a bit before his eyes, and huffs a soft almost-laugh. "I doubt I'll ever see the day."
And, looking up again. "Firelight suits you. Your wolf suits you.
"Here in the bowels of nowhere, your spirit still shines through.
"It's commendable, and I—
"As I told you, I can't promise I won't watch.”
[WIS save, d: 11; Dima has the uncontrollable, overwhelming, and absolutely impossible to resist desire to throw himself bodily at Faolan, almost as though a child has tried to smoosh them together like dolls.]
Dima, with all the grace in his edgelord form, is going to do just that, rising and just about leaping to wrap his arms around Fae.
<.>
Faolan's too startled to even consider dodging, and he gets hit with the full force of the, er, 'attack'. The weight of Dima's pounce combined with Faolan's causes a portion of wall to shift and open.
Faolan falls backward onto moist earth with Dima on top of him; confused, he looks upside-down at the cavernous space they've fallen in to, then calls out, "Sen. Rin. Was this what you were looking for?"
As for Dima, he gets a flicker of childish arrogance from Rose.
<.>
As Dima senses that flicker, he at once thinks ’Thank you’ and wishes she'd found another way to let them know. He's also scrambling off of Faolan and upward, cursing softly and apologizing, offering a hand to help Faolan up. He can't quite meet the man's eyes. He also— He liked how it felt to be against this man. He'd— Like to feel that again. He also wishes he hadn't full-on thrown himself at a man who's been so cautious around him, and has had cause for caution.
"I'm sorry, I—" He clears his throat. "The firelight."
Rin, meanwhile, finally looks up from the earthworms - look how they wiggle, Sen! do you think they have many feuds? - at the sound of a body slamming into the ground. "Shit??"
Maybe this dungeon's cooler than they thought. Well, whatever; Faolan and Dmitri had it covered, and the worms were great.
Rin's going to move over and step around the two who are... What are they doing lying in the mud? None of Rin's business, that's what, though they do Message Sen: [ Looks like you've got that bet locked down. ]
<.>
Sen arrives in time to step over them with a look that asks, And what were YOU two doing?
He smirks at Rin, then humbly replies, [ It's not over until it's over. ]
With Dima off him, Faolan - unsure what just happened, really - tries not think about it. Any of it. (How good it felt. How much he's missed being wanted. How much he's missed a warm body against his own.) (How good Dmitri feels with arms around him. On top of -) (Stop!)
He brushes mud off himself as he rises, nodding along that, yes, the firelight did it. The wolf, surely, is to blame.
He can't joke about it. Instead, he just manages a soft, "Later."
A talk deferred. (For as long as possible, he hopes.)
And he turns to send the wolf into this new space.
As each of them step into the room, the chanting stops. The smooth masonry walls provide excellent acoustics. Featureless stone pillars support the ceiling and a breach in the west wall leads to a dark cave heaped with refuse. Murky water covers most of the floor.
Stairs lead up to dry stone ledges that hug the walls. In the middle of the room, more stairs rise to form an octagonal dais that also rises above the water. Rusty chains with shackles dangle from the ceiling directly above a stone altar mounted on the dais. The altar is carved with hideous depictions of grasping ghouls and is stained with dry blood.
<.>
no subject
So Dima moves to the edge of the water. Is there anything of note about it? Slash does he see anything iN the water?
[dm: The water, while murky, proves to be only about two feet deep. There doesn't seem to be anything in it.]
Dima looks at his companions, shakes his head, and steps into the water, moving toward the dais.
He'll draw his dagger as he does so.
<.>
Faolan puts out a hand and almost says 'Dima' to stop him from going across, but the word's almost existence throws him. Sen's looking at him oddly and he doesn't know what else to do, so he hurries to follow Dmitri toward the dais.
The ledges and central dais are five feet high, leaving the dais's surface three feet above the water; to properly see anything about the altar, Dima will need to find a way up.
<.>
He'd climb, but he's not so sure his climbing skills are up to par, and the rock looks wet. There might be a solve for this, something in his pack that might be of use, but in this moment's he become fixed on reaching the surface, and the nearest option at hand—
Lip ticking, he turns to Faolan. "Could you lend me a boost?"
<.>
Faolan frowns, clearly thinking this is a bad idea, but he still crouches and makes a step of his interlocked fingers for Dmitri - whom he lifts with ease.
<.>
"Thank you." It's what Dima manages - along with a cant of his head - before he takes that lift and draws up onto the platform.
<.>
As soon as Dima's feet touch the platform, the chanting rises once more as thirteen dark apparitions appear on the ledges overlooking the room.
Each one resembles a black-robed figure holding a torch, but the fires are black and seem to draw light INTO them. Where you would expect to see faces are voids.
"One must die!" they chant, over and over. "One must die! One must die!"
Sen, from across the water, shouts, "What the fuck did you two do?!" as Faolan scrambles to hoist himself up after Dmitri, worried now for the man's safety.
[INSIGHT/RELIG
d: 16
r: 15
f: 19
s: 20]
Everyone at this point understands one thing about this situation: Faolan and Dmitri have to sacrifice a creature on the altar or face the cult's wrath. To count as a sacrifice, it must die on the altar.
<.>
Dima is going to attempt a query and speak to the figures: "To what end. Who is your 'Ancient One'?"
Dima is also going to cast Protection from Evil and Good on Faolan, with protection against Undead creatures.
Rin, meanwhile, is debating whether they can disguise themself as one of these spirits. And absolutely has shortsword and dagger in hand. They’ll move to stand by Sen, and will Message him: [ Yes or no: Would it fuck with them if we pretended to BE them? ]
<.>
Sen has absolutely no idea; this is somewhat terrifying, in his humble opinion. However, he's game to try, and says as much by way of a Message.
Faolan is looking around the room and running mental calculations.
About how many cultists he can count.
About what living creatures are in the space.
About what he's willing to do to free himself from this situation, because thirteen is far too many for them.
His gaze lands on Dmitri.
(No.)
And on the thieves across the water.
(No.)
And -
(No, no, no - ) (But it wouldn't really die.)
(It might not return to him, either.)
He looks to Dmitri again as though seeking answers.
(And maybe, looking lost.)
As for the question Dima tosses out: there's no response. Only their ceaseless, chanted demand.
<.>
Fuck’s sake.
This is the problem with cultists, and particularly those who don’t appear alive: They have one purpose only, and move, act, think as one.
Seeing Faolan’s expression, he shakes his head. Meaning, no, we aren’t giving them any of us, including the wolf. Meaning, no, we’ll find our way through this. And Messaging: [ Breathe, Faolan. There’s an answer. We’ll find it. ]
[ I’m not convinced one would be enough; they’ll take as many as they please. This won’t stop until we stop them. ]
And on the chance that this ritual works, there’s no telling what this group will unleash.
If only they knew something, knew anything about this cult's intent. There are guesses to be made; the letter suggests something vampiric, but this might go beyond the recipient of the letter's intentions. That the cultists are here - how long have they been down here? - suggests that something, some purpose or some magic, binds them— Or that they've all donned some arcane guise.
As Dima thinks, Rin's moving off into the shadows; they're going to cast Disguise Self in an attempt to mimic the cultists. They message Sen: [ I figure you'll be able to tell me apart; I'll be the short one.
Hey, let Faolan know what we're up to? I've got the shitlord. ]
And, to Dima: [ We're trying something. A disguise something, so don't worry if we disappear.
Also, try asking them about Walter. ]
<.>
Nothing happens. The words don't deter the chanting; the cult won't be denied.
Faolan huffs a tragic sound and offers softly, "Dmitri, if it's necessary - if it might help you escape with Rose and Thorn -"
He doesn't want to do it. The idea guts him, and he can feel the wolf's patient gaze on him from across the water. He could call it to him here -
Sen's voice interrupts his thoughts: [ Trying something. ]
He shakes his head and glances at the thieves just as they disappear.
Sen, meanwhile, is taking this a step further, and as Rin moves one way, he moves the other in his disguise. He'll attempt to attack and replace the nearest cultist.
<.>
It's gutting, that thought.
That he could risk sacrificing the children before he's even gotten them free of this house.
That he could agree to risking Faolan, or any part of him.
Dima shakes his head. [ They can't take all of us.
If I'm unable to go on, I'll need you to take them. Please. You'd be good with them; I know. ]
Rin, catching onto Sen's scheme, is going to try something similar— Though they've pulled out the wand, and are going to see about making a froggy cultist.
<.>
Faolan stares at Dima, utterly thrown by the implications of what he's saying.
That he would possibly let himself die before sacrificing Faolan's wolf.
He doesn't know what to do with that thought. (He doesn't want that thought.) (He can't live with it.) (Or without it, really.)
He shakes his head and looks away - in time to see Sen appear from the shadows and attempt to plunge a knife through one of the cultists, and Rin attempt to aim a wand at another.
Sen's knife plunges through the cultist.
Nothing happens when Rin points the wand.
Because the cultists, Faolan realizes, are only illusions.
"They're not real," he breathes, right as Sen shouts approximately the same thing, but with much more colorful wording.
<.>
Rin is not happy about this.
Well. They're happy no one needs to fight thirteen of these weird shits. They were just really hoping to see a frog.
They're going to wave a hand in front of one of the illusions: "Hello?"
Dima, keeping an eye on the... cultists, the illusions, is going to begin examining the dais, seeking any kind of clue regarding what the fuck is going on.
[dm: There's nothing new to be found on the dais, and the figment doesn't respond to Rin's hand or voice.]
Dima exhales his frustration— Well. Frustration and relief. They have no answer, but this, at least, is a positive turn. (He isn't going to think about what Faolan suggested.) (He isn't going to think about his own response.)
He rises and finds Faolan's eyes again. [ Off the dais, I think. I'm going to take a look at these illusions. ]
And, out loud, "There must be a source."
After ascertaining that Faolan will follow, Dima is going to pause at the verge of jumping into the water.
"There's something more I'd like to look at. Jump down, please, Faolan; I'll join you in a moment."
Rin isn't letting their disguise drop just yet. They move toward and Message Sen, [ No frogs yet. :/ ]
<.>
Faolan doesn't like this - not when Dmitri might sacrifice himself.
He frowns and shakes his head. "No. Tell me what you're doing first, or come with me."
<.>
Dima looks conflicted—
But maybe. Maybe it'd be a good idea to tell what he intends. Just in *case* anything happens. He'd thought sending Faolan from the dais might be safeguard enough, but there's no being certain, and that frown—
He doesn't like to cause that.
So, he cants his head, thinks to send a Message, then decides he might as well let the thieves know, too.
He clear his throat, then speaks, keeping his voice even. "Something here wants blood. We're losing no one, but. I'm going to give the rocks a little bit of blood. Mine, of course."
<.>
Faolan stares at him with a mulish set to his jaw. Then, angrily, he argues, "What happens if a little blood's not enough? A little more?"
"All of it?
"Is that what you're going to do?"
The arguments jumble inside him: that Dmitri made promises to the children. That the creature will come looking for him and find no one. That he'll -
"Abandon me like -"
His mouth closes abruptly, jaw clenching. (It's not fair to say Dmitri's just like the rest of them.
But he's about to do something stupid, and leaving is leaving, no matter his intentions.)
The tension eases out of him, turning to bitter resolve and a sick sort of smile. He nods, says, "Fine."
And he heads for the edge of the dais.
<.>
Dmitri stares, stunned, stricken.
He could protest that a little would be enough; if nothing came of it, he wouldn't keep bleeding himself. He's reckless, but he has - for gods know whaT reason - more self-preservation than that. (And more cause, now, to veer from total destruction.)
He could say that he doesn't intend to abandon anyone, that this isn't about abandonment—
But it is. It is for Faolan (how much has he revealed in this fury? what wounds did Dima tear open?), and so it is for Dmitri, as well.
The hand that had been reaching for his dagger caught itself in midair, and hangs now by his side.
He watches Faolan move.
He seeks for words; for air to speak.
And he manages a few soft words, stepping over - one slow step, then faster, hurried - to Faolan's side, reaching for Faolan's hand: "A last resort, then.
"An option if we need it, if we can find no other way through this."
And, pressing Faolan's hand, [ I swear, if it comes to that, there will only be one cut; enough to draw a few drops of blood, no more.
I'm not leaving, Faolan. I won't.
Let's get down from here. ]
<.>
no subject
(But what if. What if it never goes far?)
He doesn't look at Dmitri, but his hand tightens, grips for dear life. He nods slowly - accepting the compromise.
(Compromising himself. Again and again.)
Accepting the words for whatever they mean right now. (They won't always mean the same thing.)
And with that, he climbs down first, then - if Dmitri is indeed coming, too - helps the other man down.
[note: dima IS coming down!]
Everyone roll initiative.
[INITIATIVE
r: 22
d: 10
s: 9
f: 20
???: 17]
As the two men return to the water, the chant changes from "One Must Die!" to “Lorghoth the Decayer, we awaken thee!”
The ground begins to tremble and from the alcove, there comes a groaning, rumbling noise.
The cultist chant, "Lorghoth the Decayer, we awaken thee!", and from the alcove, two tentacles appear, reaching ahead to grasp the walls and heave a mount of decaying matter, vegetation, and mud out, lurching towards Dima and Faolan.
<.>
Rin is going to use their bonus action to Dash. They move 30ft toward the stinky stinky creature, and they're going to make a ranged attack using their hand crossbow. They hit for 6 points damage.
[note: The crossbow bolt hits Lorghoth in the bulk of its mass and does 6 points of damage. The creature doesn't seem to react, however.]
Rin. Doesn't love this. And is going to use the rest of the dash movement to get *away* from this thing.
<.>
And that brings us to Faolan, who's going to step in front of Dima and cast Ice Knife. Hits for 1 point piercing damage, then 9 for the explosion— Of which the creature takes 5, and it becomes clear the thing has resistance to cold damage.
Fae is going to move away and beckon Dima to back up, as well (on his turn.)
Fae is using his bonus action to command the wolf to use its Flame Seed attack. It hits for 5+2 fire damage...which seems to only deal3 points of damage to the mound.
Onto Lorghoth, which submerges itself and begins to swim toward Dima. It rises from the water and rears back one of its tentacles to hit Dima - Crits, rolls a 1, deals 5 points damage. And it gets multiattack, so it's going to attempt to grasp and engulf Dima, but crit fails on this so that’s a no go.
<.>
[q: Is there anything Dima can discern about this creature from his studies?
NAT, d: 14
a: It looks to him like a shambling mound. He knows they're difficult to kill and absorb lightning spells, which heal them. It's blind beyond 60 ft, and it's resistant to cold and fire. It can't be blinded, deafened, or exhausted. He knows it's a very good idea to stay OUT of range. Out of its range, anyway, which is 20ft. And he should share this information with other parties who might have lightning spells.]
Dima is going to begin moving; as he does, he Messages Sen to say [ Shambling mound; no lightning damage! ] To Sen he adds, [ Tell Rin. ] As he continues moving, he'll tell everyone out loud to keep 20 feet away and don't try to effect its sight or hearing.
He's going to use his movement to dart by the fucker of a mound. Lorghoth takes its opportunity attack to swing at Dima with one of its tentacles, hitting for 2 points bludgeoning damage.
Dima is going to cast Mind Spike on the fuck, for 15 points damage.
<.>
Sen is just going to move the fuck away first. He casts Dissonant Whispers, humming the same jarring melody he used earlier, dealing 12 damage.
The creature is going to try to move as far away from Sen as possible.
[note: Rin shouts YEAH RUN U LITTLE SHIT.]
Faolan is watching Dima with worried eyes right now.
<.>
Rin moves 20 ft to where they can seE the thing, and they're going to take another crossbow shot. They hit for 9 points damage.
[dm: The creature, cowering from Sen, takes the bolt into its...mound. Rin might be able to detect a flinch this time.]
Rin is going to use their bonus action to Dodge, and otherwise stay right where they are.
<.>
Fae’s going to use his action to climb up onto the dais again.
The wildfire spirit is up, and it'll again make a ranged attack. Hits for 4 points fire damage, halved from 8.
Fae's going to command it to stay close to Dima, so a hovering wolf is floating beside Dima.
Also; the party may notice now the chant has changed. The cultists are chanting "The end comes! Death be praised!"
Lorghoth is up! Going for Rin with its multiattack. Both miss.
<.>
Dima's going to move to a position where he won't be hitting Rin or very good wolf! And Dima’s using Mind Spike again, this time for 6 damage.
He's also going to give the wolf a look of thanks and he is holding himself there and ending his turn.
<.>
The wolf watches him with the same seeming patience it displayed earlier.
For Sen— Don't fix what isn't broken: he's casting Dissonant Whispers again. The mound makes the saving throw, but still takes 6 points of psychic damage.
So we're back up to Rin, with Sen shouting to get away from it. And he is using that shouting to give Rin a little inspiration.
<.>
Rin is in fact going to use their bonus action to Disengage and gtfaway from the weird smelly tentacles.
And! They're taking a crossbow attack, and hit for 6 damage.
[dm: The mound is turning into a rincushion]
<.>
And that brings us to Fae, who moves to the edge of the dais and casts 2nd level Thunderwave. That’s 15 damage and the mound is pushed 10 feet back away from Fae.
The wildfire spirit is going to continue to stay on Dima. And aside from you know not being on the edge of the dais, that'll be Fae's turn.
And we're at Lorghoth, which is going to submerge itself in the murky water again and head straight for the dais. Which puts it riiight in reach of Faolan. So it’ll multiattack. Hits and deals 11 points of bludgeoning damage to Fae, knocking him to the ground. And it'll attempt to engulf him. And iiit does. So at the moment he takes no damage, but he is currently blinded, restrained, and unable to breathe.
<.>
[q: From Dima's earlier check, would he have a sense of whether harming the heap would also harm Fae?
a: Doing physical damage to it might harm Faolan. Psychic damage, no.
q: What about a targeted poison-dealing spell or necrotic-dealing spell?
a: Nope, those wouldn't affect Fae.]
Dima is going to move and, while moving, shout a warning to the others not to use physical damage until Faolan's been freed.
<.>
Sen's going to lean over and Message Rin to go for the tentacles.
<.>
Rin nods!
And Dima is going to cast Ray of Sickness on the creature. Hits for 8 damage total.
<.>
Sen's up, and he's going to cast Dissonant Whispers again - just really hasn't stopped humming that tune except to talk to Rin. Hits for 6 points of damage.
<.>
Rin is going to carefully, carefully take aim at a tentacle. Going to trY to hit the creature without hitting Faolan.
...And if they dO happen to hit Faolan. They will profusely apologize with a potion.
They, in fact, do not hit anything. And will be engaging Dodge.
<.>
That brings us to Faolan, who is going to use his action to attempt to escape the grapple. And! Fae manages to break free, coughing and spluttering, and falling to the water beside it.
He's going to stay where he is, and command the wildfire spirit to come towards him. It's going to use Fiery Teleportation. It teleports Faolan 30 feet away from the mound, and the mound itself has to succeed a dex saving throw against Fae's Spell save DC. Mound fails the save and takes 3 points fire damage.
And that'll be Faolan's and the spirit's turn, bringing us to a very angry compost heap.
Rin is nearest, so it'll go for Rin. First swing misses. Engulf also misses.
Sen is going to use a bonus action to give his last inspiration to Dima. Just throwing Rin's kiss at Dima. For luck and inspiration.
<.>
Dima messages Sen: [ Fuck's sake. ]
If he could roll his eyes via Message he would.
But he's not noT grateful, and he's going to give Ray of Sickness another go. Hits for 4 points damage.
[dm: How do you want to do this?]
Dima's going to move toward the heap as he sends a lashing ray of green light - its colors surging deep emerald mixed with the almost-painful vibrance of neon; its beam at once sharp and seeming to seethe - toward the heap that calls itself Lorghoth. He stares daggers at the heap as he moves, then shifts his gaze to Faolan, and to Faolan's wolf, where Dima's cold sneer turns to the edge of a smile, of relief—
Then, attention snapping back to the heap, he throws his shoulders into the attack. The green seethe swarms the heap, almost eating away at its refuse-ridden self with focused poison.
He has nothing to say to this creature. He only snarls, and thinks of Faolan, of the children, of the raven-not-raven... And, yes, of the thieves, as well.
He finishes the beast.
In doing so, Dima also seems to lose some of the pained pallor the creature struck upon him; he regains 2 hit points through Grim Harvest, a shock of deep blue light flowing back toward him from the beast.
...Actually Dima is. Also going to kiCK the fucking tentacle.
Then end.
<.>
Faolan, propped up against the far wall, lets himself sink down in relief. (Nevermind the water. Nevermind anything.) He lets his head fall back. The wolf paces protectively beside him.
Sen sags a little, tired but pleased to see the trash take out the trash, as it were.
This relief is short-lived.
As the shambling mound collapses in on itself, seeming to deflate and sink into the murky water, the chanting stops. The cultists vanish.
The house above them and the ground below all begin to shudder violently.
<.>
Dima's first move is to run to Faolan, to grab his arm and tug upward. If Faolan allows, Dima is going to give his potion to the man. Telling himself to keep focused; there's no good panicking.
<.>
Faolan isn't going to be told twice. He wants to get the fuck out of here.
He just happens to be resting against a wheel that raises the porticulis between this space and the reliquary.
<.>
Rin's looking for any signs of daylight; a crack in the wall or another secret door (like with the earthworms!) (don't... think about the earthworms just now). They're ready to run, but they figure—
Oh! Look at that!
If Faolan hasn't begun to move the wheel, Rin's going to because this shittt is no good.
And while they think about looting the trash mound, they're pretty sure that they'd only find... well. Actual, literal trash.
Rin works that wheel! "Sen! C'mon!"
<.>
Sen's already on the move, hurrying down to help however he can - and run.
<.>
Dima's working Faolan's arm around his shoulders; if Fae doesn't protest, Dima means to help keep him moving. They need to get out of this. And since Sen's showed up, and since Dima isn't as strong as he might like—
"Lend a hand?"
Rin, once the portcullis is opened and the others have moved through, intends to lead the way upward. Years of pillaging homes have left them with a decent memory for house layout— Even when there are a million stairs.
<.>
Faolan takes a few steps out of the water with their assistance, and once on solid ground again, shakes them both off. He's fine; he'll be fine. He does look at the wolf and breathes, "Go"; it vanishes, winking out of existence.
In the reliquary room, as sounds above tell the party the house is beginning to collapse in on it self, they find the raven-like creature waiting.
The creature moves toward Dima, serpentine undulations mingling with flight, and will settle on his arm if he allows.
<.>
Dima absolutely allows. And looks awe-stricken, looks honored; looks as if something's settle into place.
Softly, scarcely aware of his own voice, he speaks: "Liviana."
<.>
The creature seems to pause, cocking its elongated head at him, then utters a sound not unlike a tok.
Acceptance, maybe.
It turns its head to look at Dima with one eye, its claws digging into his arm without puncture. While this ought to be a moment of importance, it - she - conveys in a burst of imagery (the house collapsing poisonous smoke filling rooms swinging blades swarms of rats) that the party is in danger.
Another image follows (blue open sky, Dima's plane of existence). (Freedom.) (Escape.)
And an image of joined hands. Joined hands. Joined hands.
Dima can (and should) interpret from this that the party should join hands and hold on tight.
<.>
He sees; he hears. And though he'd like to hold within this moment, there's much more to find beyond, and he understands her urgency. (Perfect; she's perfect, the catch of light on darkest feathers, motions avian and serpentine alike.) He thinks, [ Thank you. ] And speaks immediately, voice firm, commanding, cutting through the sounds of the building's shift:
"Join hands; form a ring. Now.”
Rin, not certain about what's going on but not liking their chances on fleeing by climbing, gives Dima a sideways glance, then grabs Sen's hand and moves to take whoever's nearest.
Dima has, of course, reached one hand out to Faolan, beckoning, entreating.
<.>
Faolan takes his hand without hesitation, his grip firm and certain now. With the other hand, he takes hold of Rin, and Sen settles for grabbing Dima's elbow.
The moment the circle completes, the party is engulfed by a whirl of feathers and smoke - dizzying, compressing, and then expanding release. When the feathers and smoke fall to the ground, vanishing before contact is made, the party is on the road to Awich, with the town just in sight on the horizon.