Chapter 12: Shadows in the Dark

[Dave W.]

Adamant says nothing as he slogs through the thick mud in Histra's wake. He tries to avoid stepping on any bones he sees but otherwise works to keep pace.

---

Adamant's shield is on his back, possibly giving Streko something to lean against... at least a little; hey lumbar support!
His sword is sheathed. His think hands are holding his friend's ankles to help steady the halfling unless Streko objects... in which case they'd be held at chest-level to quickly grab the halfling if necessary...

[Dave B.]

Shorak has been carrying his short sword for a while and still has it in hand.

[Ken]

Belarin follows along silently, restraining his desire to comment on everything. He clenches his empty hands and his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering.

[Brian]

Condign follows silently behind the others. If he notices the giant skeleton, he does not comment.

__________________________

Condign carries nothing in his hands. His shield is secured to his forearm, and he has sheathed his sword.

[Joe]

Once again, Streko puts the child into his haversack. "May this be the last time, little one," he whispers. He then grasps onto Adamant with both hands. "I leave our safety in your capable hands, my friend. Let me know how I can assist, should it be required."

[Dave B.]

Once everyone is moving, Shorak takes his place at the back of the group. Staying close behind, but still keeping watch around and behind them for any danger.

[Jeff]

By the time you reach the opening in the wall that leads into what Histra has called the Drowned Gate (really, just an edifice of unremarkable stone rising out of the vegetation and water), the water is nearly to your waste. Streko remains comfortable and dry, while everyone else feels the bone-chilling cold seeping more into their bodies.

Histra begins to cross the threshold, then pauses. In the darkness within, you can make out the first chamber, and there is a distant, flickering firelight somewhere out of sight but creating a little bit more light of its own. You can hear some swishing around in the water echoing through the passage.

Histra looks back. "Remember everything I said."

---

Shorak, Condign, and sometimes Adamant seem to unintentionally compete for the rearmost position. For now, I'll assume Shorak and Condign tend to be at the back.

[Ken]

Belarin nods and continues forward... but he mumbles an incantation to allow him to again see arcane auras.

_____

Invoking Eldritch Sight. Let me know if you'd like a roll.

[Dave W.]

Adamant nods gently but says nothing. He moves through the cool water trying to stay close to Belarin.

---

Adamant will let Shorak take the tail-end of the party. He's convinced that Belarin will be the main target of an attack here so he'll try to stay close to him.

[Brian]

Seeing Shorak take rear guard and Adamant move to the front with Belarin, Condign takes a position near the middle with Kal. His fingers itch to hold his sword--to wade into danger unprepared feels unnatural--but he resists the temptation.

"This necklace," Condign says quietly to Kal. "I have to remove it before we return. My illness will return. Without a healer, I will die." He runs his thumb along the braid of hair attached to his belt. "I am not ready to die. Someday, yes. But not today. Do you understand?"

Sent from my SAMSUNG-SGH-I747 using proboards

[Dave B.]

Shorak continues to bring up the rear. Noticing that he is the only one currently with a weapon at the ready, Shorak keeps his sword close to his body, so as not to seem an aggressor. He follows closely behind, staying alert to any potential dangers.

[Darren]

Kal claps his hand on Condign's shoulder. "Not today, then," he says with a smile. He stays close to the big warrior, fearing for a fight, know his powers, so closely tied to fire and lightning, will do the party little good in this watery expanse. "Not today," he says again, a bit quiter.

[Jeff]

Upon entering the building through the tunnel, you find yourself standing in its dark interior, water just above the knees. Tangat is moving awkwardly through it, but doesn’t quite need to swim just yet. You find much of the ceiling (a vaguely arched affair) has long since crumbled away, so much of the interior is open to the sky. But as the sky is still black and lacking any feature, it doesn't feel outdoors. Rather, you feel closed in. The gray-green foliage of the labyrinth hang over the edges at the top of the walls, reminding you that you’re not out yet.

The first thing you notice is that lying beneath the water in several places are humanoid corpses. There are at least five of them. They look decayed and swollen, not as solid as a zombie, but not as threadbare as a skeleton. Clothes and flesh, half disintegrated, cling to the bodies and sway with the currents of your movement. Each one stares up, unmoving…

“These are the Drowned. You have nothing to fear from them if you do not disturb them and do as I have said,” Histra says, unconcerned.

Then Histra begins to approach a stairway that looks like it will descend to another level—but not so far down that it’ll be fully submerged. Then the bodies begin to stir. Kal and Condign see that the nearest one to them, twenty feet away in a corner of the strangely-shaped chamber, rights itself and begins to slowly rise.

[Dave W.]

Adamant struggles through the water and finally accepts that he can not stay near Belarin who appears to be chiefly concerned with Histra. The warforged tries to quiet his fears. He finds the slight weight of Streko is reassuring. Being of service always brightens the moment and this particular service, colored with the memories of similar rides with young Cyran in High Walls, generates the smallest flicker of joy.

Still he remains silent as Histra instructed.

---

Apparently Adamant is unable to keep up with Belarin... It's cool, probably makes sense even...

[Darren]

Kal eyes the stirring corpses warily. "Nothing to fear, Histra?" He gestures towards the corpses. "This is normal, I assume?" He quickens his step, not wanting to get too far from the necromancer.

[Brian]

"Stay close," Condign says. "Trust in the lady Histra. We may have little choice at this point, but frankly, I would not start doubting her now."

[Ken]

"Quiet, thrall," says Belarin in a harsh whisper. He keeps his eyes ahead, trying his best not to look at the approaching undead. He continues to scan for other arcane emanations.

[Jeff]

"Yes," Histra answers Kal harshly—and he thinks she is putting more venom into it than she means. "For the dead do not lie still in this world. You know this, fool." Her sunken countenance makes her words seem viler.

As Belarin looks around with his arcane sight, he sees a mild but pervasive necromantic taint to the air. Around the stirring corpses, there is a clear eddy of this magic but it doesn't seem to consistently take hold. The walls of this place don't register much.

[Darren]

Kal affects a blank stare and lets his jaw hang slack as a low moan escapes his throat. He winks at Condign, then continues behind Histra.

[Dave B.]

Shorak notes the moving corpse out of the corner of his eye, but does not look directly at it. He keeps his focus on Histra up ahead, following her instructions and following the group. His hand tightens slightly on the hilt of his sword, but shows no outward aggression. He remains quiet as he moves forward.

[Jeff]

The Drowned, still mostly lying down in the water like the corpses they are, begin to drift closer to the party. The long flowing hair of one waves in the current, while bony elbows or jutting shoulder blades protrude from the water as they shift about. When it draws much closer, the one nearest to Condign and Kal sits upright and its torso and head emerge fully from the water. Its clothing is mostly gone, with an exposed ribcage on one side—possibly from a bite—indicating a mortal wound. The dead man’s eyes look jellied but are largely still intact as it regards both human and tiefling with a vacant expression. The mouth opens, water pours out, and a wet, painful exhalation sounds.

But it doesn’t venture any closer.

Fifteen feet in front of Histra and her skeleton guards one of the Drowned rises up onto its feet. This one is half skeleton itself, some of the remaining flesh suggestive of a woman, but its head is bereft of all skin or eyes. Yet the head swivels to regard Histra as water drips from every orifice. “Stayyyy,” the dead woman urges.

“Draw no closer!” Histra hisses back at her, sounding like an undead creature in her own right. “Or I will bind you forever.”

The Drowned woman does not balk, but does not advance. She writhes in place as if sensing all of you in some way other than sight, sound, or smell.

With that, Histra turns and looks down the stairs into the next chamber, nodding as if she’s seen this before or at least finds everything appears as she expected it to. “It will go deeper now,” she says to Belarin. “But I do not think we will need to swim. Follow and—”

Suddenly the darkness in the broken ceiling above this room shifts. You hear only a single sweep of great leathery wings, the creaking as they snap and fold, and then a heavy, monstrous figure drops into view as clawed feet clutch at the stone above. Chunks of stone crumble away as it seeks better purchase. There, in the corner of the wall, you see a diabolical creature. To Belarin and Adamant, it is dismaying familiar. Belarin feels a sickening clench in his stomach at the mere sight, while Adamant just feels an offensive spike in his sacred sensibilities.

Green-and-brown-scaled, troll-sized at least, but bulky, crowned with black horns and spikes on the head and shoulders. Huge barbed wings half unfolded, flexing and grasping as if eager to rend with its own spines. The creature wields a massive double-bladed battle axe, but he holds it more like a staff at present. It is clear even to those who have looked upon it until now—Condign, Kal, Shorak, and Streko—that this is no earthly being. It looks too vile to be from Eberron and too living to be from Dolurrh.

Condign recalls from his upbringing and Kal from his studies that there exists a caste of fiends that are neither demon of Khyber nor devil of hell: yugoloths, the bargainers and mercenaries who fought for all sides. Meanwhile, Shorak has heard more intimate tales among the drow, and he recognizes the features of this creature as a nycaloth, the warriors and prime mercenaries of the yugoloth species—typically the strongest but not the wise leaders of their kind. Streko is unsure what this creature is, but it's obviously of demonic heritage and Olladra would not approve of its presence under any circumstance.

Yet one of the yugoloth’s eyes is swollen and closed, with oily black tracks running down its face and neck, and there are several scorched and withered parts of its body suggesting that it was in a fight recently. But it still looks hale and strong on the whole, and very dangerous.

“I see your arm has mended, Lady ir’Serell,” the fiend rumbles as it looks down upon you all. “I will happily break it anew, and every other bone in your body...when the time is right.” The yugoloth’s glowing eyes fix then upon Belarin and he smiles, canines bared. “But an agreement is an agreement, little warlock. You loosed my anchor and I promised to do no injury to you and your two companions...” He now regards the others in the group. "...so long as you were within this labyrinth. You're almost out now, aren't you?"

Histra looks at Belarin, but her expression—whether anger, alarm, or determination—is obscured by the increasingly gaunt features of her undead-like aspect.

The Drowned twitch and cavort slowly in the presence of the yugoloth but take no particular actions. They seem to be "searching" for it with their senses.

---

You'll definitely refresh the page for sure so you can see the map update. The yugoloth's feet are about fifteen feet above the level of the water. But it's not attacking (yet?).

Condign's Arcana check (1d20+5=14)
Kal's Arcana check (1d20+4=13)
Shorak's Arcana check (1d20+2=17)
Streko's Arcana check (1d20+4=11)

[Ken]

Belarin says with a strange calm, "He won't attack. And neither should we." He looks up at the nycaloth and continues calmly, "The agreement was, 'We ALL leave here alive.'" He slowly reaches his arms out to indicate the whole group. "I never specified a number."

[Jeff]

"All"? the yugoloth laughs. "Is that you what you said? How vague. But that is not what I said, soft mortal man. I promised I would do no injury to you or your two companions who were with you at the time."

Histra regards the fiend above her. "Fly away, little imp. You are outclassed, as you were before."

The yugoloth's clawed feet scrape at the stone, dislodging more chunks down into the water. "Alas, the elf is gone. I hope he did not meet his doom alone in the maze, in some dead end, abandoned by his friends, with his soft elf skin flayed strip by strip, too paralyzed with fear to even scream." The fiend licks his lips.

[Ken]

"Balderdash," says Belarin. "You waved your hand impotently in a general direction from the confines of your cage. Don't accuse me of being vague. You'll honor the agreement as I stated... although I credit you for attempting to provoke me so that I'd be the violator. See you on the other side, my friend."

He nods to Histra to continue.

[Brian]

Condign resists the urge to draw his sword. Bearlin's instructions were clear: make no attempt to attack the yugoloth. Best let his friend, who is apparently known to the fiend, handle the confrontation.

Unless it gets out of control, of course.

[Dave W.]

Aug 18, 2015 10:44:19 GMT -4 Jeff said:

The yugoloth's clawed feet scrape at the stone, dislodging more chunks down into the water. "Alas, the elf is gone. I hope he did not meet his doom alone in the maze, in some dead end, abandoned by his friends, with his soft elf skin flayed strip by strip, too paralyzed with fear to even scream." The fiend licks his lips.

The flicker of joy is snuffed out as soon as the yugoloth arrives. Adamant makes a soft grinding noise when "the elf" is mentioned but manages to control himself and says nothing. He does move his strong hands higher on Streko's legs; just below the knee. He works out a plan to quickly lifting the cleric off and set him on top of the stairs if combat begins.

Adamant waits for Histra to move forward or attack.

---

So I'm going to guess getting Streko off Adamant's neck and safely onto the top of the stairs is going to be a standard action if it comes to that... I'm guessing hobbit-tossing would also be a standard action...

[Darren]

Kal's eyes flicker between Belarin, Histra, and the yugoloth. He makes no comment, but quietly pushes the sleeve of his right arm higher, exposing his dragonmark. Would the yugoloth recognize the symbol of a house of mercenaries, he wonders? He stands ready to fight, but hopes beyond hope that it will not come to that. If it does, he knows, they will not all leave this place alive.

[Joe]

Streko groans. He whispers to Adamant, "I would like nothing more than to curse this foul excrement, but I promised not to engage anything here unless told to do so, and it appears I am not being told to do so, despite badly wanting to. Should we be attacked, I shall drop from your back and move to the stairs and hope one of the Drowned do not approach. I am unsure how long I can keep from attacking these things in Olladra's name. The very presence of all these creatures is anathema to her...and to me."

[Dave B.]

Shorak looks on with interest, but makes no move, waiting to continue on. He keeps his sword low and close to his body, but takes a more defensive stance. Just in case. He wishes he had a few more eyes, so he can keep an eye on the Drowned, the Nycaloth, Histra and all the other possible dangers.

[Jeff]

Aug 18, 2015 11:29:29 GMT -4 Ken said:

"Balderdash," says Belarin. "You waved your hand impotently in a general direction from the confines of your cage. Don't accuse me of being vague. You'll honor the agreement as I stated... although I credit you for attempting to provoke me so that I'd be the violator. See you on the other side, my friend."

He nods to Histra to continue.

“Indeed you shall,” the yugoloth replies with a guffaw. Then his wings stretch out and snap down as he leaps upward. The thrust of air washes over you all, and then faster than you would expect his muscular body to move, he is gone. A few more chunks of stone splash into the water. The Drowned stir and moan but do not engage with anyone.

Histra lets outs a breath. “Even in our weakened state,” she whispers to Belarin, “the nycaloth is not strong enough to fight all of us. But a fiend’s pride is perilous—he will find a way to oppose us until he recovers his strength. Be watchful.”

She says nothing more about it and starts down the stairs. The incline is gradual, so that by the time Belarin reaches the bottom of the steps the water is above his waist. By the time Adamant mounts the top of the stairs and starts down, Streko is the only one who has remained dry.

The next chamber is a tomb. Sarcophagi are arranged about the room, each one lidded and old and eroded of any significant markings. A few of the Drowned lurk here within sight, half concealed behind sarcophagi, but as before they make no move against anyone. Ruined faces, empty eye sockets, and water-logged flesh turn toward you, however, marking your every step. Histra regards each one with her ghastly countenance and they seem to look away when she does.

Splashes in the water draw your attention to the darkness beyond your sight. Two pools of dim light—made brighter in your darkvision—reveal a new scene. The light comes from several fat candles of varying size which have been placed on the lids of two adjoining sarcophagi. But the splashing comes from the two people chained to them…

The figure on the left is a woman, fairly young, wearing serviceable explorer’s clothes. On the right is a man, considerably older and bearded, similarly garbed. Both look human, and both look alive. But they’ve been beaten and chained; they bear the numerous bruises and cuts of a captive. While each is on their feet and like you, mostly submerged in the water, they look exceptionally weary, and lean heavily against the sarcophagi they’re manacled to at the wrists.

In front of each of them are three of the Drowned. They rasp and hiss hungrily, looking barely in check, paying them much more mind than any of them have shown you.

“Oh, gods,” the woman says, her voice shrill but weak. It is not likely she can see you at all, but your party makes plenty of noise moving down the steps and through the water. “Who’s there?” Her voice echoes loudly across the wet, stony chambers.