Party 8

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Gaarek, with some hesitation, turns to the group. "You know I would fight with you all to the end." Glancing back to the alter and chanting figures "Our odds look grim this time though." He retrieves a boar's tusk from his pack and looks to Baltair "Maybe it is finally time I join my wife. You would tell my story wouldn't you?" He offers the tusk to anyone who would be willing to do what needs to be done.
 
Cassia shakes her head firmly. "We cannot participate in such a vile ritual - we must instead break the cycle of death somehow. Honor your wife by standing up to this evil, not succumbing to it." She looks to Tazkul. "Does that ritual book have anything to say about this ritual - or how to disrupt it? Also - pass me that scroll of bless. It may be needed..."
 
"Look, my friend. I'll be happy tae write yer story one day. But, I'd like tae write a longer and maybe happier ballad than what it'd be if you went through with it. Yer life's worth more than that." Says Baltair in an uncharactestically serious tone, standing in the half orc's way and looking him in the eye.
 
"Baltair is right. But - I think it would make a fitting end to this part of our story if we were to smash that accursed altar to bits, hmm, Gaarek?" A slight smile curls on her lips. "I expect the shades won't take too kindly to that. We should pray to whatever Gods cast their gaze on this benighted land..." She unfurls the scroll of Bless, and begins to read the incantation - focusing its power on Gaarek, Tazkul and herself.
 
His friends had made their decision clear, we would not abide the shadows commands. Emboldened by his companions words Gaarek turned to face the shadows, raining his maul down upon the alter with a roar. With the challenege issued Gaarek stared down the figures awaiting a response.
 
Ritual Chamber:

With a resounding crack the bloodied altar gives way to Gaarek's strike, the very impact echoing through the room as a soft wave ripples out from the center. For a moment it seems like the very world slows down, the shadowy figures ceasing in their chanting and giving no tell to their judgment, as they remain stewing in the silence. Then, speaking as one dissonant whole, they call out once more into the darkness.

"...So you have made your choice. But we will not be denied."

You feel a distant rumbling underneath you, the room itself seeming to tremble in fear. Was something moving in the distance, in that pile of refuse? Almost as if on cue every single figure turns their head towards the pile, raising their hands high as if beseeching the dark powers that be.

"Lorghoth! Lorghoth! We awaken thee, Lorghoth! Rise, Decayer! Rise!"

The chamber quivers, shakes! Dust falls from the ceiling all around you. The mound of refuse shudders with newfound life at the figures' call, as a teeming mass of vines and decay rises from its ancient slumber and charges forth towards you!
 
Cassia's eyes widen as the mound rises and lumbers towards the party. "So this *thing* is the culmination of their evil sacrifices...?" she wonders aloud. She begins to reach for her sword - then thinks twice. Discretion is the better part of valor... "Friends, we can outrun the abomination. Let's keep distance while we can." She takes a few steps back, and looses one of her javelins into the creature - feeling the warmth of the bless spell, and relief as the missile appears to whittle it down. As Tazkul opens the portcullis, she joins the strategic retreat, but soon find themselves with nowhere else to back away to. She joins Tazkul with sword in hand, desperately hacking away at the branches. Though she is able to deflect one of Lorghoth's vine-filled slams, the second finds its way past her defenses and bruises her chest hard - knocking her breath away, and likely more than a little internal bleeding. The bless spell dissipates as her concentration is broken.

Fortunately, having the thing surrounded provides opportunities to strike with more precision. Gaarek's massive blows lop off significant chunks, and Cassia breaths a sigh of relief as Baltair manages to finish it off. "So much for their great Decayer. I hope those spirits can rest easy now..." She looks over at Tazkul and Baltair with a slight smile.
 
Gaarek had entered the water filled chamber with trepidation which was proven rational when the mound of refuse and vines arose and shambled toward them. It was a massive beast but slow to act, Gaarek gladly followed the group as they retreated back the way they came. The axes he threw tore away chunks of it but the beast pursued still. When they reached the next room they were faced with little choice. Flee and abandon the house and the poor spirits trapped here or stand there ground and face Lorghoth. The more he thought of the poor children who grew up above this madness the fear that had seized Gaarek's mind turned to rage and he charged the beast.

In typical fashion Gaarek had little memory of what happened in his fit of rage. Evidently his companions had encircled the beast and bested it as he came back to his senses with his maul lying by his feet in a wet pile of mulch. "Is everyone okay," he asked wincing and clutching his side, "I feel like I've been trampled by horses."
 
Tazkul, certainly in agreement about discretion's part in the valor equation, quickly goes to open the porticullis; if they were to fight at a range, he knew that he wasn't meant for such a fight. Not for very long, anyway. So it was better for him to assist in moving them to get it where they could strike it more strategically. And he did that, getting them into a spot, then heading forward with the thunderous crack of the magic coarsing through his staff. The mossy creature slammed into him once and knocked his breath from his chest, but soon after, it fell, the dragonborn clutching his chest in the aftermath. "I...really need to do more research on more distanced combative measures...being a melee fighter hurts..."
 
"What in the name o'the mountains is that thing? Baltair shouts out." He then mutters some arcane incantations and touches Gaarek's shoulder, suffusing him with courage. "Gaarek? Smash!" He says as a way of inspiring his companion. He then mutters another incantation, holding thunderous motes of energy in his hands, holding the spell for a moment. "Get outtae HERE!" He says, the last word booming in the room as he slams his hands together hard, pushing the abomination backwards a few feet.

Seeing his allies retreating, he follows suit, flinging his dagger at the thing. Continuing his retreat for a while, he finally decides to stand his ground when his allies bear down on it as well and goes in with a cleave of his bastard sword. "Cassia, cleanse this evil!" He says in a way to inspire her. He follows along with two more slashes of his sword, finally felling it on his second one, thanks to his allies opening up the creature's defenses for him. "TAKE THIS YE UGLY PILE O'CRAP!" He shouts as the twitching body of the creature finaly goes limp before him. He then reaches into it to find his dagger, not letting it get lost. He finally finds it among various dwarven insults muttered under his breath. Or perhaps it was a single, really long insult. Who knows with dwarves?
 
Reliquary Chamber:

The dungeon around you comes to an almost ominous silence as the mound falls to your blows, hitting the stone ground of the reliquary chamber with a thundering thud. In the absence of the constant chanting the moment of quiet sends a shiver down your spine... and then you hear the slightest rumbling, grinding, creaking from above -- not directly through the muddied caverns of this dungeon, but muffled from some distance beyond.

You sniff, and the slightest of odors wafts down the musty passage leading back upstairs. Is that... smoke?

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The smoke hits you both harder than the others, not the physical smoke you are smelling but the smoke that feels like it's passing through your very essence, your bloodstream, your very bones. "Your" bones...?

"The house... I don't think the house is happy," Rose's voice creeps out of Tazkul's mouth with an unnatural wisp, wavering in tone as the wizard's gaze turns upwards. Baltair meanwhile looks like he has to fight back the urge to hyperventilate. The rumbling meanwhile seems to only get louder with each passing minute.
 
Stumbling over to the cots to recuperate after the hard-fought battle, Cassia looks at Baltair worriedly. "Are you alright? We should be rid of this place soon enough. Though first, we said we would put the children...to rest." She looks above towards the rumbling. "If the house doesn't consume us first." She lets out a long sigh as she stretches out, propping her shield next to her. Her fingers trace around the symbol of a teardrop emblazoned on it. "I've been thinking, lately - I at first believed, perhaps, there may be a possibility of redemption for this place, and the dark lord who allowed - encouraged! - this evil to fester. Now, though, from everything we've seen, it seems to be beyond redemption. Maybe only thing left to do is cleanse the vileness that we find..." She crushes some hay from the cot, and there is a flicker of fire in her eyes.
 
Baltair looks at Cassia with a painful expression. He begins to speak, although rather falteringly, taking large gulps of air in-between to keep his composure. "I... dunno what's... happening... feel... like I'm... burning! My... bones... But... not mine...
 
Tazkul coughed at the smoke; normally not one to be affected, but it seemed to take him to his very core. He heard Rose's voice, not seeming fully aware that it actually came out of him. But, he heard it, and looked towards Cassia. "We should leave with haste. And I use the full meaning of we when I say that. Both of me, both of Baltair...if it's not too late for their bodies..."
 
Gaarek arose from the ground where he was cleaning the grime off of his axes and maul. "I agree. I don't like the sound or smell of whatever is up there. I fear we may have waited too long already.." he pauses clutching his still throbbing side, "not that we were in any condition to just charge up there."
 
Dungeon:

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"I can't say that it would be that easy..." Rose notes, quieter and back in Tazkul's head. "That smoke... what if the house is on fire? Are you going to go up three flights of steps and try to come back down? There has to be another way..." Though she is evidently frightened like any other child there is a hint of strength in her voice, as if she's trying to still think rationally as danger continues to loom in the distance.

It takes a moment for Baltair and Tazkul to regain their composure but they get used to the smoky feeling in their lungs -- at least, it feels foreign now, and not actually happening to their physical, present bodies. But there is definitely something happening in the house now -- to the house itself -- and while ideas were scarce at the moment, simply lying around and continuing to rest seemed to rank among the worst of those ideas.
 
Tazkul looks to the rest of the group, with concern. "I can...almost feel smoke in my lungs. Almost. It's not...fully pervasive of a sense, but...it's definitely happening somewhere. I perceive there's likely a fire further up in the building. That could complicate getting the children's bodies out to be laid to rest."
 
"Then we have to hurry," Gaarek exclaims as he quickly collects his belongs to rush upstairs, "we can't leave them in this place."
 
Attic Hall:

In the face of looming dread, the trembling silence is unnerving as you backtrack to where you first descended into the dungeon. The stairs leading upward are ominous, almost hungry with their gaping hole to the surface.

Racing up the stairs, the air getting thicker and thicker with each step you ascend, you eventually find yourselves back in the dusty attic storage room of the once-grand mansion. It is up here that you finally come face to face with the source of the commotion: the house itself.

Struggling to push the black smoke out of your lungs you start towards the doorway to the hall proper when a glint of slashing metal stops you in your tracks -- slashing blades, where there were once creaking wooden doors. The singular window in the storage room is dark, void even of the moonlight that dimly illuminated the space; a closer glance reveals that where there was glass, is only thick, lifeless brick stopping you in your tracks.

All around the rumbling and crumbling persists with more instruments joining the dissonant chorus -- chittering and skittering and gnawing beneath the wood and panels. All around you the wails of those spirits begin to sing once more, howling their wounded disgust at what had transpired. Every pane of glass, every wall and door and plank of creaking wood -- it all shakes in uncovered rage of losing what it was owed: you.

And the house seemed determined to claim its prize.
 
Death House:

The rumbling of the house shakes you to your core as you rush through the doors from the stairs you had emerged from, avoiding the sharp blades that had inhabited the doorways in favor of other outlets. Taking advantage of the structural weakness of the walls a hole is quickly busted through as an opening -- giving way to swarms of rats that begin to pour out of the once solid walls. They bite at your ankles and chase you down, though you give no opening to their gnaws and gnashes.

Outside in the hall proper the smoke is rising in the air, given no outlet as all the windows seem to have been shut to darkness. Cassia rushes in and takes the two skeletons, feeble yet still fairly together, as the rest of the group continues to rush towards the stairs downwards. Those stairs, and then the other three floors, and then the door --

A single crack is all it takes. The floor collapses beneath you, barely more than air, as you all descend into darkness...

----

It feels like an eternity, falling and falling and falling with no respite, as if the darkness itself had claimed you and brought you to another dimension entirely. The darkness changes you, creeps into you, claims you for its own -- try as you might to resist, a part of you deep down knows that it has now made its mark upon you, as you lay in its domain.

----

A rush of wind and clamor brings you back to reality, a moment before you impact the ground in resounding pain. Eventually coming to your senses, you look around and see that you are once more on the ground level -- except, there is no house. Only dust, and the faintest of debris from the apparition of a building. To your side lay Rose and Thorn's skeletons, seemingly still intact despite falling what would have been three stories.

The silence that greets you is comforting. Beyond the gates, the mists seem to recede to reveal what seems to be a sleepy, small village. The world beyond seems to beckon to you now.

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Tazkul broke through as many of the walls as he could to give the group the fastest route of escape. He was, after all, not the sort of wizard that was a frail sort of shell of a being. He feels the darkness creeping into him and claiming him. Somehow, someway, Tazkul managed to find purchase at the end of it, landing on his feet, although his legs buckled as he landed. They weren't broken, thank the Gods, but enough to hurt. He looked over from one knee, seeing the intact corpses...one of them a part of him, doubtless. He then slowly began to rise to his feet, his eyes scanning through the mists as he moved towards the gate, feeling the call of the small town. He was almost convinced that he'd managed to slip into a hellish afterlife for the moment, but there was...one way to find out. He moved forward.
 
It was with a single-minded fervor that Cassia lept in to retrieve the bodies. They cannot remain here...in this evil place... The blades hardly dissuaded her - she was determined that some good would come of their ill-fated venture into the house of death. She let out a growl that grew in intensity as the party descended the stairs - and it turned into a howl as they fell into the darkness.

She falls silent, though, when the party abruptly finds themselves outside again, intact - along with the children's skeletons, much to Cassia's relief. She turns, and finds Baltair unconscious. "Not yet, my friend...there are still many tales for you to sing!" She lays her hands on the dwarf; though exhausted, she is able to impart just enough of the light that resides inside her to close some of his wounds, and bring him awake. Looking up at the gates, she remarks with a heavy sigh: "We should find the nearest burial site in this village - the little ones deserve a rest."
 
Baltair was right beside Tazkul on the way out, giving a helping hand in breaking the walls down. However, as the floor crumbled out from under them, he landed square on his back. The fall knocked the wind out of him and everything went black.

"Och fer cryin' out loud! Who makes a house like this!" These were his first words, accompanied by a long string of dwarven insults and a particularly large spit, after he regained consciousness thanks to Cassia's healing. "Thank ye. This is why ye build UNDER the ground and not ABOVE it." He says, spitting on the former spot of the house again.
 
Gaarek had a hard time navigating the smoke and flames of the house to keep up with his friends. When he saw the rats nipping at everyone he quickly lit a torch on a piece of burning furniture to try to keep the rats at a distance. He found moderate success but there were too many of them. Luckily, Cassia soon emerged with the kids' bodies and they all made a dash out of the house.

When his feet met the ground he flinched and felt a little queasy. "Tazkul that was most impressive!" His voice more hopeful than thankful, "But tell me if you knew magic like that this whole time why wait until the last minute?"
 
Tazkul looked towards Gaarek over his shoulder, and he stepped back towards the rest a bit. "That was not my magic at play, Gaarek. That was something else. What it was, I do not know...nor am I fully aware just where we are..."
 
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