Fantasy Dracula's Curse: A pathfinder adventure (closed)

[Jodyguru]

The skeleton started cackling while Tuka ran around shrieking like her hair was on fire. Drevin charged in with a scowl on his face and a glowing hand. He threw a handful of holy magic directly into the skeleton's face, instantly destroying the weak undead with his turning spell. The hand stopped moving under Tuka's boot, and the air fell silent again.

The silence was short lived. The hallway lit up with strong blue fire shooting out of the torch sconces. The dungeon cell doors all slid open at once, and dozens of skeletons started pouring into the hallway. They had no weapons, but were grabbing, clawing, and pulling at everyone in the room. Patrick was swiftly grabbed and rendered immobile. Gorsht roared and started swinging his greatsword around. The blade hit the ground, and his arms were covered in bony arms. His legs became encumbered, and a dozen skeletons brought him down. Drevin channeled his aura and blasted one, then another, but was quickly grabbed and silenced by the horde.

No matter how hard Tuka could try to resist and fight back, the simple fact was there were too many skeletons. They ripped the sword out of her hand, groped her whole body, and lifted her into the air, carrying her away.

The skeletons carried the party into a pair of dungeon cells, dumping Tuka and Drevin into one cell, and tossing Patrick and Gorsht into another across from them. They were disarmed, missing all tools and weapons. The dungeon cells were pulled shut, and the skeletons locked the doors to the cells. They cackled in their dry voiceless heads and dispersed through the hallway.

"What... the... hell?" Patrick groaned and sat up. "That pale bastard! He led us right into a trap!"
"Well, it was Tuka's decision to come down here!" Gorsht growled, annoyed by the circumstances.
"Don't blame her!" Patrick snapped back. "We all followed, ready for anything. May I remind you that this was Drevin's quest to begin with."
"Nobody asked you to join us, you scrawny little thief!" Gorsht stood over Patrick. "You just wanted to pilfer corpses. I think you'd rob me blind if given half a chance!"
"To hell with you!"
"And you too!"

While Gorsht and Patrick bickered, Drevin slowly rose to his knees and put his hands on the bars of the cell. He had a look of horror on his face that went beyond their current predicament. He saw bloody snow and a small iron box. He remembered pain, intense pain, and he was shivering.

"Godmother... give me light. Please God, don't throw me into the dark again." Drevin spoke just above a whisper.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

“Enough arguing! We all knew the risks and agreed to come here, together! Calm yourself and help think of a plan or please stay silent!” The shaken woman commanded from her cell. Tuka was still in a state of shock and disbelief but still had the presence of mind to figure something out. She quickly patted herself down wincing at the memory of hundreds of grabbing hands. Pushing the image away and to her horror realized the skeletons had taken all of their items, even her sword which was her most valued possession. The half-elf started to glance around the cell looking for anything at all, then quickly realized Drevin was not looking so good. As he whispered something about being in the darkness Tuka went to the cleric as she would any friend and tried her best to help calm him down. The half-elf wasn’t sure what the problem was but that wouldn’t stop her from comforting her new friend in a situation she couldn’t help feeling a little responsible for.

“Drevin, let your faith and your friends be the light. I am here to share in your darkness, fear not for you are not alone.” She said softly and tried to smile sincerely, though that act was difficult as the cuts on her face from the skeleton hand dripped with crimson. Tuka moved a bit closer and offered her hand to the shaken cleric. “Tell me what happened. We will figure a way out of here.” She offered genuinely and waited.

 

[Jodyguru]

Gorsht and Patrick quieted down and went to their own sides of the cell, glaring at each other for a time. Drevin turned to Tuka. She could see the deep pain in his eyes, and the scars on his face told a tale as dark as the prison. The cleric said nothing at first, but adjusted himself so that he could sit against the wall and talk to her.

He spoke entirely in Elven.

"Many have heard of the Inquisitors, but few saw their acts towards vampires, or those accused of being a vampire. I am old enough to remember a time before Dark Lords ravaged the land. The scars hide my true age. I was just a boy living in a town that specialized in textiles. I herded sheep for my family, and they also made fine quilts and clothing. It was simple living, but those were simple times. One day, a lamb broke from the flock and ran into the woods. I went after it, going deep into the woods, and following the tracks it left in the snow. Eventually I found it, but not how I wanted to. It was lying in a puddle of blood with creatures chewing on its innards. I fled as quick as I could, dodging creatures left and right, scared witless. I ran until I reached a steep cliff, and was trapped by them. Just as I was about to perish, a beam of sunlight broke through the clouds, burning their flesh and forcing them to retreat. I was relieved, and went back to the village.

Days passed after I told my folks what happened. It took three days before the Inquisitors caught wind and descended upon us. They killed my sheep, destroyed the homestead, and put my family in cages. They rounded up the whole town too, took anyone who they suspected of vampirism, and burned them alive. Some of them actually were vampires, much to my surprise. They would revert to a black-skinned form, shrieking and thrashing about until they died. They held the fire to my parent's faces, and mine as well. I remember the smell more than anything, the smell of my flesh being burned. When we didn't revert, they took us back to their encampment for questioning. They eventually let us go, but my mother died from her injuries. My father died of grief, and I had to leave. That's how I found the monastery. I believe Mitra's light saved me from those spawn, and kept me alive to follow the path of cleansing light.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

The half-elf shed quiet tears as Drevin recounted his painful past, the salty water streaking a clean trail through the blood on her cheeks. Having been privy to the very images during their shared meditation at the campfire his story felt all too real. "You've endured and over come much, my friend. Mitra was wise in sharing her light with you. A better champion she could not have." Tuka declared honestly in the elven tongue. The half-elf squeezed his hand in a gesture of reassurance. "A hard thing it is to relive the past let it not define you for we cannot change what has happened, rather, let it temper your resolve. And know that in doing so you will shed a cleansing light upon this land the likes of which none have seen for ages." The somber half-elf wiped away blood and tears from her cheek. "During our meditation at the campfire....I fail to understand what happened but I saw images of this very tale as if I were there living them in real time with you...no longer must you be alone in your burden." She said softly and pulled him to his feet and gave him a friendly hug. "Let's get out of here...all of us." She declared.

 

[Jodyguru]

Drevin's eyes softened and he returned the hug. He spoke again in Elven. "Ah, so I wasn't the only one who saw things. I've heard of meditative memory-bonding occurring, but experiencing it was something different. I'm... very sorry for your child. I pray that Mitra sees them in her glowing bosom."

There was a moment of silence. Everyone agreed they had to get out of here, but with cell doors locked and little at their disposal, how were they supposed to get free? Gorsht got up and pulled on the door, though it didn't do much. Patrick was huddled in the cell, slowly rocking back and forth.

"Its hopeless... hopeless!" Patrick sounded like he was losing himself. Then, he spoke in Elven. "Those two are good friends now, both standing in a pool of blood. What, did you think I couldn't speak the second most popular language in the country?" He started cackling, then spoke in common. "Gorsht, they don't trust you. They think you're going crazy. We aren't the crazy ones, right? RIGHT?" He laughed more. He laughed so much that Gorsht stopped pulling on the door and looked at him. He laughed and laughed endlessly. He laughed till he was out of breath, sucked in air, and kept going.

"Gods... he's lost his mind." Gorsht said. "The curse must be taking hold." Patrick kept on laughing, echoing through the dungeon.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

"Thank you, I hope so as well," Tuka said softly, she felt a special bond now with the cleric elf having shared in each other's tragic secrets. The moment was lost though as Patrick started laughing maniacally and spouting paranoid gibberish.
"Gorsht! Knock his ass out if you can! We can help him after we get out of here!" Tuka shouted as she was flustered and thoroughly drained of kind words. The half-elf was starting to get worried as the party was making an awful racket that echoed through the entire dungeon, she figured it wouldn't be long until other visitors arrived. Tuka kicked her cell door as hard as she could but the iron bars even in their state of disrepair would not yield. The frantic half-elf raced around the cell and stumbled upon an old femur bone. She picked it up and clicked it against the bars. The bone seemed to still be strong and she went to work prying against the lock mechanism. "Drevin, help me pry open this door!" She commanded her teeth clenched tight as she pulled against the make-shift lever.

 

[Jodyguru]

"My pleasure." Gorsht said. Patrick kept laughing even as Gorsht picked him up by his shirt. He gave the bard a hard slap in the face, followed by a backhand, and Patrick was knocked out.

Drevin started pulling on the door, but it didn't budge. The femur bone snapped in half due to being very old and dry. Drevin didn't have enough strength to make a difference in the door. He stopped when he sensed something coming their way. "Tuka, get down" he said and moved against the wall of the cell. There were heavy footsteps coming their way. Tuka could see it. A bloated man wearing a dirty, stained smock and a cloth sack over his head. His eyes were glowing white with wisps of possession magic. He held a staff in his meaty fist that had a burning red tip at the end. He approached the cells and turned away from Tuka. He shook the stick, and skeletal arms sprouted out of the ground to grab Gorsht and hold him down. The man took a ring of keys off his waist and unlocked the cell. He grabbed Patrick by the leg and started dragging him out of the cell. He locked the cell again and put the keys on the back of his belt. There was a moment somewhere in there for Tuka to take the keys, though doing so would be very risky. Unhindered, he'd drag Patrick down the hall and disappear around a corner.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

Tuka eyed the keys carefully and stalked them like a silent cat upon its prey. She relied on her elven dexterity and the high-quality boots of elven kind to silence her approach. She reached carefully through the bars, the keys at her fingertips. Unfortunately, they were just out of her grasp even as she strained to reach. Thinking quickly she grabbed the broken femur half of which was tapered into a sharp point and used the thing to extended her reach. Tuka quietly slid the sliver of bone unnoticed through the key ring and lifted them off of the grotesque man’s belt and pulling them to her easily. She waited for the masked man to get out of sight then unlocked the door while sweating nervously.

 

[Jodyguru]

Gorsht saw what she was doing, and he knew the keys would jangle, ruining their escape. He started struggling against the skeletons and shouting profanities at the monstrosity. It stopped and watched him with cold eyes.

"Your execution will be next." The man spoke. Gorsht yelled loudly, and Tuka took the keys off his belt with the bone. The executioner carried Patrick down the hall.

"Did you see that rod in his hand?" Drevin asked. "He must control the skeletons in this dungeon. If we dispatch him, we should be able to reach the end."

"I hope we can save Patrick." Gorsht sighed. "He might be an ass, but he's defended the party at every turn. He has honor, and if he dies before I can apologize, I won't forgive myself."

"Nice work, Tuka." Drevin said. "Now let's get out of here."

 

[Simon_Hawk]

“Yeah, getting a hold of his rod so he can’t use it will be important,” Tuka suggested in a whisper.

“Hopefully we can find some weapons before he executes Patrick.” She said and started sneaking back to the intersection. Tuka knelt and scoured the floor searching for any signs of where Patrick was dragged off too. She hoped the floor was dirty enough to follow his tracks.

 

[Jodyguru]

Going towards the intersection, Tuka had a tough time finding signs of Patrick's presence. She did, however, see the glint of Patrick's steel harmonica sitting on the floor a bit into the left corridor.

"Ah, so that's where he was taken." Gorsht said.
"How should we do this? If our weapons were taken elsewhere, we might be going into a battle empty-handed" Drevin said.

What will you do?
+Move Left
+Move Right
+Split up (Tuka decides how)

 

[Simon_Hawk]

Tuka slipped the harmonica in her pocket she knew there would be little time for indecisiveness and prayed that following the right corridor would lead her to their gear.
“I’m going right...If the left is the execution room I doubt the weapons would be there giving someone a chance to escape.” Tuka said and marched down the right corridor without a second thought and motioning the others to follow.

 

[Jodyguru]

Drevin and Gorsht followed Tuka down the right passageway. They went straight for a little bit then turned a corner. They quickly ended up in a large chamber carved out of the earth. There were six coffins in the room, three on each side. The room was lit by a blue fire in a large brazier in the center of the room. Each coffin had a name written on it:

Lautrec
Aida
Rasul
Dirk
Sasau
Jude

Drevin hummed softly. "I don't detect any evil among these coffins. What do you two make of this?"
"Maybe your detection powers are at fault. I can't stop shivering at the sight of these things" Gorsht said.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

“Patrick doesn’t have time for this...I’m checking to see if the skeletons put our gear in these coffins...and don’t touch anything else.” Tuka said and carefully opened the coffin labeled “Lautrec.” The half-elf figured the dunpele was out and about somewhere else so opening his coffin was the safest bet. The lid creaked as she slowly and respectfully opened it then peering inside the dark container, sweat beading on her forehead.

 

[Jodyguru]

The coffin opened up with a heavy shift of grinding wood. The top came off, and inside Tuka found her enchanted rapier! Not only that, but she found a pair of shortswords, a silver axe, and a greatsword.

"Huzzah, now let's go save that funny little rat!" Gorsht said. Before they could move towards the door, there was a sudden rush of wind that came over Tuka, Gorsht, and Drevin. The elf looked up as he felt a strange presence on top of them.

"There are spirits trapped in these coffins. Lautrec may be elsewhere, but you may have released something trapped in his coffin, Tuka." Drevin looked at her for a moment, wondering what she would say in answer to this. He wasn't sure if the same could be said for the other coffins. If there were more trapped spirits here, he may wish to free them from Dracula's possession.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

Tuka thoroughly hated the idea of anyone spirit or otherwise being held against their will. The basic concept of personal freedom was something Tuka would always fight for regardless of the danger to herself. Nobody could guess how long the captured spirits had been confined to the coffins and the half-elf wanted very much to set them free from their dark prisons. However, Patrick was running out of time before the possessed executioner would finish off the comedic bard and the half-elf needed to make a choice.

"Drevin, you and Gorsht have been fighting together for quite some time and make a great team. Take the short swords and engage the executioner. I'll release the trapped spirits and then sneak up from behind or flank him once you have his attention. Hurry! GO!" Tuka suggested and began to lift the lid off of the coffin marked as "Aida."

 

[Jodyguru]

Drevin's face brightened up as he watched Tuka open another coffin. "Mitra will bless you for this, I'm sure of it." He said, taking his sword and leaving. Gorsht took his greatsword from the coffin and followed. The coffin named "Aida" released another spirit that floated around and rushed out of the room. The same happened with Rasul, Dirk, Sasau, and Jude's coffin as well. Once all the spirits were released, Tuka didn't feel anything wrong about herself except she was covered in goosebumps.

Heading to the other corridor, Tuka saw Gorsht and Drevin crouching near a corner. When she was in sight, they encouraged her to approach.

"He's there... Patrick is still alive."

In a large chamber, Patrick was laid on a vertical table with shackles around his legs, hanging upside down. The executioner was sharpening a cleaver in the corner of the room. He stood up and approached Patrick.

"Woah woah woah, hey hey, lets talk about this pal. Come on, I'm sure we've got a lot in common. Do you like folk songs? How about mango sorbet? Skeletons are pretty cool too, you wanna talk about skulls?"

"Maybe he'll cut his tongue out first..." Gorsht mused.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

The plan was simple in its execution, Tuka being the quickest would launch herself into the room and distract the executioner with a flurry of blows. Once the man’s attention was trained on her Drevin would step in and blast him in the face with holy-light temporarily blinding him. After Drevin’s spell, the mighty Gorsht would cleave the executioner in half with his giant greatsword. Once Gorsht landed his hit, Tuka would scramble and acquire the magical skeleton controlling rod the group had seen the executioner using not long ago.

"I'll rush him, Drevin, you blast him in the face with light or something similar, Gorsht you cleave him in half without holding back," Tuka suggested quickly and quietly to her companions.

The huge possessed man approach Patrick and it was time to go. Her goosebumps fading away and with little time to spare Tuka rushed into the room leaping over the table and worked her blade in a series of lightning-fast thrusts and stabs rendering the huge man confused. Tuka sidestepped quickly bringing the executioners gaze away from the door and then it was time for Drevin to strike.

 

[Jodyguru]

Though perfect in its conception, once Tuka vaulted over the table, Patrick let out a small yet telling gasp. This caused the Executioner to turn his head around just as Tuka went to strike him. Most of her blows hit his cleaver, though she landed a shallow stab on his chest. The possessed man, Executioner Zarak, let out a horrible roar from his gullet. His head started to glow with red energy, hidden under the cloth sack, and a horde of skeletons started filling the room.

Gorsht and Drevin hurried into the room, and Zarak swung his hefty cleaver directly at Tuka. Drevin lit up his surroundings with holy light and started hitting one skeleton after another. Gorsht swung his sword in huge arches to smash the warriors into bone meal. The battle quickly became a frenzy, with everyone's attention going in either which way. Tuka took a slash in the back from one of the skeletons.

The back of the room was filling in with more and more zombified skeletons by the second. It seemed if Zarak didn't kill them with his cleaver, the skeletons would overwhelm the party and tear them to pieces. It would be a worse repeat of their last encounter. Suddenly, an explosion lit the back end of the room and sent a wave of skeletons flying backwards, burning and falling apart. Another explosion caused a huge gap in Zarak's forces, and the party saw who was throwing fireballs to clean up the mess. It was none other than Lautrec with a burning hand facing the monstrosities.

"I've grown tired of you, Zarak. It seems fitting I shall kill the executioner yet again." The Dunpele spoke before jumping into the fray, ripping skeletons apart with a glimmering scimitar.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

Tuka yelped in pain as the skeleton scored a slashing hit across her back, waves of fiery agony swept over her breaking her concentration. Just then Zarak brought his cleaver down in a crosswise slashing attack drawing a line of blood across her cheek neck and shoulder sending the half-elf stumbling sideways. Crimson spewed from the wounds, and Tuka again yelled out in agony clutching at her leaking face.
The bleeding half-elf knew about where Patrick lay bound upon the table. She backflipped not once, twice, but thrice her elven made boots enhancing her acrobatic withdrawal from the melee with Zarak. Flaming bits of skeleton bone flew past her as multiple explosions and beams of holy light went off behind her. She looked on in amazement from where the commotion was coming from only to see Lautrec of all people entering the frenzied fight. The dunpele's bright scimitar felling foe after foe after lowering his smoldering hand.

Hearing the Dunpele speak something about the name “Zarak,” the half-elf not comprehending turned her attention to the bound bard. Patrick looked on wide-eyed like a frightened child as the bloody half-elf climbed upon the table, kicking back skeleton after skeleton with all the power her legs would muster. Finally, after knocking back yet another warrior, the frantic half-elf sliced furiously at the bindings holding the bard. Her dark blade sliced through the rusty chains easily as Patrick winced at the thought of her missing the bindings only to remove a hand or foot.

Tuka chopped through the last binding freeing the bard after what seemed like an eternity. He lay there for a split second staring at the half-elf, her breathing was labored as she fought against the agony of her wounds. Each labored breath that escaped through the slice in her cheek sent a spattering of blood into the air. Patrick could even see her teeth, clenched in grim determination through the gruesome wound.

“GET UP!” Tuka commanded the bard fiercely as she kicked the head off of another skeleton. Then she heroically slashed the arm off of a second and sent it flying while the bard scrambled to his feet.
"Let's get to your swords!" Tuka exclaimed fiercely and pointed to Gorsht who was carrying them for the group. The big nomad was slashing in great wide arcs taking out swaths of boney foes with each stroke.

 

[Jodyguru]

Patrick's face was pale seeing the bloodied Tuka yelling at him. He nodded and scrambled up. Gorsht looked up in the fray and saw Patrick was recovered. He grabbed the sword on his belt and tossed it over to him. Patrick reached but missed the handle, and the sword hit the ground. He bent down to pick it up just as a skeleton's blade whiffed over him. He quickly straightened himself and lobbed the skell's head off. He summed up his bardic magic and blasted a couple over with wind. He let out a high pitched whistle and started to sing a song.

~Domination of the Tyrants~

Everyone in the room, including Lautrec, felt an amazing boost in speed and reflexes. It was like the bard pumped caffeine directly into Tuka's veins. Gorsht swung and swung until his side of the room was clear. Lautrec shot a stream of fire across his side of the room, and the two of them bumped into each other walking backwards. They turned, and Gorsht looked surprised, then turned into anger.

"You! How dare you sully the battlefield with your presence!" Gorsht growled. Lautrec stared at him blankly for a moment before swinging his sword to the right, cleaving a zombie's skull in two.

"There's a chance we may win the day." Lautrec spoke before diving forward into Tuka and Patrick's area. The last few skeletons left were being picked apart by them, but Zarak was still standing. The Dunpele shut his eyes for a moment and breathed a long calming breath before opening them again. He ducked a skeletal arm and came through the fray like a snake in a bramble patch, slashing up at the executioner, who let out a gargling noise of pain. His cloth mask fell off, revealing a toothy cloacae where his mouth should be. Inside this strange orifice was a burning red light. It seemed like Zarak kept the rod inside his mouth for safe keeping.

"The executioner's head must roll!" Drevin yelled. He approached Tuka from behind and cast a powerful cure spell on her.

 

[Simon_Hawk]

The healing light of Drevin’s spell washed over the wounded fighter, and she felt as if she were wrapped in a soft blanket. The warmth of the light soothed away her pains as it closed the wounds on her back and face. The type of healing spell Drevin used left no scars and caused no pain as it soothed the wounded, a testament to Mitra's golden light.

Feeling whole and energized as if a double dose of adrenaline coursed through her veins, Tuka vaulted high from the table gliding gracefully over the outstretched arms of two skeleton warriors. Patrick seized the moment to smash the distracted skells flat with his newly acquired sword, the boney things falling into scattered heaps at his feet.

Using the momentum from her vault, Tuka downward slashed the distracted Zarak as she descended upon him. Her dark blade sundered the grotesque man's chest as it sliced easily through his flesh down to his fat belly. Zarak bellowed as darkened blood and fat spewed fourth filling the room with a stench like raw sewage. The half-elf almost gagged as specks of blood and nastiness spattered her face.

Fueled by the potency of Patrick's uplifting song Tuka pressed in hard and fast repeatedly piercing Zarak with a wicked volley of blows as he stumbled back. Lautrec too was taking advantage of Tuka's distraction as he worked his scimitar in a brilliant display of spinning slash attacks always managing to parry Zarak's wicked cleaver strikes. Line after line of blood appeared across the executioner's chest, arms, and neck as the duette of fighters chipped away at his life pool.

Bellowing like an angered beast, Zarak stuck his cleaver out horizontally and spun three hundred and sixty degrees like a tornado, knocking Tuka and Lautrec away from him. The duo took no real damage, but that wasn't Zarak's intention. Suddenly the possessed man's head began to glow with a sickly red light, and more scraping, scurrying and clomping of boney feet could be heard from beyond the entrances to the room.

"Hell's Bells! More Skell's!" Tuka cried out in excitement; her mind now totally lost in the battle. The half-elf and the Dunpele looked at each other and with a knowing nod then charged Zarak as he was attempting to summon yet another wave of monsters. Lautrec came in low but feinted right at the last second his gleaming scimitar severing the hand which held the cleaver. The cleaver clattered uselessly to the floor, and the hand bounced away twitching wildly. Tuka rushed in high but feinted left her dark blade whistling through the air and aimed for Zarak's exposed neck.

 

[Jodyguru]

At the same time as her, Lautrec reached with his blade and caught Zarak by the other side of his neck. Together, their blades worked like a pair of scissors to sever his head from his body. A gush of black blood coated his apron and the monster fell. The rod that controlled the skeletons was destroyed in the melee, and the bony warriors in the room stopped fighting and collapsed as well.

There was a small chuckle followed by a bigger laugh from Patrick. "Hells bells, more skells! I love it" He laughed even harder. When they got out of here, that was going into his new song, was what the bard thought about. Drevin sheathed his sword and breathed a sigh of relief. Gorsht had an ugly look on his face, and wanted to confront the dunpele. Drevin put a hand on his chest. This wasn't their way. Purging halfbreeds for merely existing was the doctrine of Inquisitors, not this party of adventurers.

"In life, Zarak's cruelty made him a good friend of Dracula's." Lautrec spoke, looking at Tuka. "As you can see, this is how my father treats those close to him. I have no intention of starting fights with anyone here, but I believe our combined strength will be necessary to defeat the dark lord. I understand you have your misgivings, so I'll answer one question before we move on."