Party 6

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"So all that nonsense about being afraid, that was just a little joke I was doing. Testing my comedy routines in places that are tense. The right timing and placement with comedy can make all the difference between getting booed off the stage or not... and that has financial ramifications for some of us. That's what happened there. Really."

Reppip sighs, then strums his lute.

"What this means, in short, is that I think we should find and dispatch this foul creature, and be on our way!"
 
"Keep it up, Reppip. We're not out of this yet."
Benson mutters a prayer over the graves of the two children. He takes a long drink from his flask, then puts it away and grabs his equipment. He heads in the direction that Varis has pointed.
 
Sleeping Quarters:

As you finish with your business around the crypts you decide to take the northward passageway, leaving Rose and Thorn behind as they seem to settle into their new spots. Taking a hard left and then descending a small flight of cracked stairs you find yourself in what appears to be a sleeping quarters of some sort.

Alcoves line this filthy room, each stocked with a moldy straw pallet that clearly has not seen the light of day in a long while. At the end of the hall a wooden table leans on uneven legs precariously supporting its own weight, its surface scratched and stained with age. In front of you, a slender hallway crawling with insects leads to another set of stairs.

Entering the room, the stench of rot tainting the air finally registers on your senses. Accompanying it, breaking through the ambient chanting permeating the tunnels is the sound of something shuffling within the darkness of the alcoves and a faint, guttural snarling of something... not so human.
 
Banging his spear against his shield, Benson renews the light on his weapon. Then he says in a low voice, "Three-in-One, guide my path true. Grant me your vigilance again," and steps forward into the dark alcove.
 
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Sleeping Quarters:

The banging of spear on shield clanking echoes into the darkness, and for a moment the snarling seems to pause. In contemplation? Anticipation? Who knows. Regardless the renewed light shines as a beacon throughout the murky quarters, driving small rats and insects away skittering; Benson feels more sure in his step as the gods seem to answer his call for guidance, alerting him to the danger at hand.

After a moment you watch as a silhouette creeps out of the furthest alcove, shuffling step by step, until the sight becomes clear: it is nothing less a ghastly, sickly corpse walking upright and covered in ancient rags, barely more than threads. In its hands is a gnawed skeleton of an arm, the flesh long rotted away, devoid of any life nor (for it, at least) nourishment. Its head turns slowly towards the group, its deathly visage scrunching into a deathly glare, and in a moment it is charging, hungry for fresh blood.

ghoul.jpg
 
Benson feels infused with vigilant light inside his head, and he sees the undead creature coming toward him. it is almost like he can see where the foul monster is going to move before it happens. He feigns one direction and blasts the monster with a thousand sparkles of light, with his other hand limning the creature in white golden glow. He rocks back, blocking the ghoul's claws with his shield and then stabs, driving his glowing spear through the creature's eye.
 
Varis stays patiently behind his ally waiting for the right moment to strike. After Benson illuminates the monster he sends out a fire bolt which just managed to connect.

After the final strike is laid he looks to his friends, "I thought that was going to be much harder, shall we see if there's anything else?"
 
Partially to distract from his own miserable flailing at the corpse-eater, Reppip begins to sing praise.

"Benson the slaughterer of the previously dead
The champion of us living, he crumpled the thing's head,
and onward we can press, in the children's name
ready to batter down others, with much of the same..."
 
"Aww hell no y'all! I done playing games here. It's time to destroy some evil." She strides forward with determination and takes a swing at the creature. Her hit connects but doesn't get as much purchase as she'd like. The thing goes down quickly enough though amd she smiles happily. "That works. There's probably more of those around here so let's keep our guard up." She takes up position at the front of the group again and strides forward.
 
Secondary Sleeping Quarters:

Gathering your bearings and leaving the slain creature where it lay to rot, you continue further into the labyrinth. Past curious worms and roaches you go, down the stone carved steps that seemed to echo with every move you made. After a short passageway you find yourself in a second, larger sleeping area with a stone well built into the middle of the clearing. Alcoves line the walls, with moldering straw mattresses squished inside for some semblance of comfort -- at least, more than the flattened mats you saw in the previous room. At certain angles you can catch a glint of padlocked chests within the makeshift rooms, attempting to stay out of sight but to little avail. Another staircase at the other end of the room leads further into the depths.
 
Secondary Sleeping Quarters:

Taking a few creative liberties at the absence of lockpicking tools, the group gets to work smashing the various chests around, freeing the dusty contents within. One hides a bag of small mysterious currency within a strange leathery sack; another holds a trio of soft green stones, lovingly wrapped within a silk black cloth; a third keeps nothing but a black eyepatch, a fiery red stone sewn into its intricate design. And then the snarls started.

It was hard to hear at first, as the chanting continued to echo unabated throughout the labyrinth, but after a while the sound creeping beneath it was all too apparent. The groaning gets louder and louder with each approaching step; it seems that the noise the group had made from smashing the chests was enough to even wake the dead from their accursed slumber. Just as you turn, readying for the onslaught of battle, you're met with the ghastly visage of not one, but three more ghouls, just as terrifying as the first one. They stare back with a fierce, raw hunger and charge forward in full force.
 
Varis was ready once the undead attacked shooting off a magic missile to put the first one down. His companions putting down another one quickly. Shooting off firbolts the last undead wouldn't go down. damn this one's taking a beating. just as he fired his last firebolt it toppled. "Hopefully we get a slight break now, I'm tired of these." As he wiped the sweat from his brow listening for additional beasts to come.
 
Having been caught just a little flatfooted since she'd been busy breaking open the chests, Hazel is forced to react to the attackers while still wielding the crowbar she'd been using. The first ghouls go down easily enough, but she struggles to land a solid hit on the last one. After several attempts she finally managed to land a blow on it and it soon fell.

"Well, that was harder than expected. Hey Benson, this is a good crowbar thanks for lending it to me." She goes and wipes it off on the rags of one of the dead ghouls. "Uh, you want it back now?"
 
The ghouls shamble toward Benson and Hazel. As they clash, a bright light bursts out from Benson, temporarily blinding the undead creature which had just come out of the darkness. Avoiding the claws, Benson stabs the creature through the chest with his glowing spear.

Benson leaves the spear inside the dead ghoul's chest, pulls his mace from his side and starts swinging.

Once the ghouls are put down, Benson pulls his spear from the body and wipes it off. "I'm with you, Varïs. But I'm not sure we've found the monster yet."

He takes the crowbar, and shrugs. "Nice hit."
 
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Reppip hops forward, attempts a stab with his Rapier, but fails.

Fortunately he makes up for it with the next two, and he thinks of how he'll leave that initial thrust out of his poetic rendition of the encounter.
 
Secondary Sleeping Quarters:

As the last of the ghouls are laid to rest, a relative quiet descends upon the room once more -- only relatively, as the chanting continues unabated throughout the halls. Almost as if it were calling to you, beckoning you to come closer. Disregarding it for the moment the group opts to continue with the chests, and nothing else disturbs them as they uncover two more pieces of loot: an ivory hairbrush with silver bristles and etched with a golden rose design, signed "To Florentia", and a plain silvered shortsword with tinges of dried blood that were never quite scraped off.

Continuing forth down the hall where the ghouls came, the group ascends a few steps before finding themselves at a split corridor, the chanting still echoing aimlessly through the walls. One path seems to ascend once more before taking a hard turn, while the other flat path simply leads into darkness. The magical light they carry with them clearly illuminates the heavy footfalls of the ghouls they fought running down the stairs from the first corridor.
 
Dining Hall:

Moving forwards you find yourselves in what appears to be the dining hall from before. Looking to your left you can see the corridor that lead to the crypts where Rose and Thorn were buried; opposite it to your right another door leads outwards, the path of loose straw and bones trampled by previous footfalls.

Long benches flank a scratched, wooden table in the middle of the room, as bones litter the floor like ripped up chunks of carpet. You accidentally kick one, sending it sailing through the darkness. The chanting grows louder, ringing off every edge until finally infesting your teeth like vagrants. You try to get it out of your head, but can't... and it simply continues to ring inside your head, insistent and persistent.
 
Benson looks about the room cursorily with his lighted spear. "That chanting seems to be getting worse down here," he says. He continues to move toward the next doorway.
 
Shrine:

As the group moves through the dinin hall without much fuss they come to a crossroads, three hallways leading down in various directions into darkness. There's a particularly noticeable frenzy of movement in the paths leading straight and to your left, which you figure was from the ghouls. Comparatively the right path seems fairly still. Making a decision between themselves the path to the left is the one chosen, which leads to what appears to be a shrine of sorts.

Skeletons hang from rusty shackles in this room, rattled endlessly by the slight reverberation of the chanting all around. At the far end of this hall stands prominently a painted statue, carved in the likeness of a gaunt man dressed in noble's clothes. Rather than attempt to carve the shape of a cloak out of stone a real one is draped around the man, dark and damp and dusty but otherwise intact to due lack of interaction. His left hand rests on the head of a faithful wolf by his side, head perched up and ever vigilant; in his right rests a smoky grey crystal orb, gleaming slightly in the light you bring into the room and casting a pale sheen across the floor.
 
Hazel inspects the room suspiciously. Hadn't they heard noise coming from this direction earlier? She'd stay on her guard. While some of the others were inspecting the wall the statue drew her eye. She couldn't see any obvious religious imagery she recognized.

Hmm but if this cloak doesn't look half bad...

Seized by an impulse, she grabbed it and flourished it around her shoulders dramatically. "I sure hope this looks good. Does it make me more intimidating?"
 
Varis sees Hazel grab the cloak seeing it gracefully fall on her shoulders, "It looks perfect!" as it falls to rest he notices an orb the statue was holding, looking more intently it seems special.

Slightly let down that he wouldn't look as good in the cape, he grabs the orb hoping to have a treasure of his own as he begins to do further investigation as to what it might hold.
 
Shrine:

As Hazel and Varis disturb the items around the statue, a soft shimmering starts to fill the air within the room. It continues to coalesce, gathering around and building in density until the small motes of light start to form into a vaguely humanoid shape. "Who... who goes there...?" The voice echoes around the room, ever so distant and ever so intimate, uncertain yet tinged with loss and regret.

Though they seem to have no eyes, they seem to focus on the various members of the party one at a time, before resting their formless gaze on the lighted spear that Benson kept on him. "It has been... so long... since another kindred light has touched this room. Who are you, and why do you walk these accursed halls once more?"
 
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"I am Benson Anhelada, humble cleric of the Eye of Justice. My companions and I have come to bring light to the darkness, truth to the lies, and finally bring justice to this cursed place." Benson speaks confidently, but keeps his eyes steadily on the formless being.
 
Shrine:

"Justice...? You will not bring justice to this place, nor will you find satisfaction or relief in your duty." The entity almost seems to get agitated by Benson's confidence, before depressing once more. "I know not of this 'Eye' whom you claim to follow but the Lady of the Mists failed me in my darkest hour, and gave me no respite in my time of agony. You may escape its grasp, but you will never eradicate it. That is the lesson I have learned, in being chained here."

The entity looks to the orb in Varis's hands, then to the cloak around Hazel's shoulders. "Those are tainted with Their influence, with the addicting taste of dark power and madness. You know not what you trifle with. They will take note." Despite their ominous tone they seem to take no action towards aggression or otherwise taking the seemingly magical objects away from the two of them.
 
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"Who are you, chained one? What happened to curse this place so completely?" Benson sets the butt of his spear down onto the stone floor. "Forgive us, but we are not yet prepared to give up. We are still very much alive and as long as I draw breath, I will fight for my freedom from this place."
 
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