The Dead Roads

Arkris, 7/7 HP, 12/12/10 AC, +6 initiative, spells; level 1: 5/5

Well.  Wasn’t this pleasant.  Or something.  He’d always wanted to be locked away in a box and stuck in a tomb.  Really.  Or something.  Damn, he couldn’t even come up with a kink that could turn this bizarre situation into something fun.  That was highly unusual.  Arkris, it must be said, lived for fun.  This state of affairs, however, had absolutely nothing to do with fun.  Even if he was locked away with a set of adoring women.  Or something.  

They were a strange lot, Arkris thought as he peered at each of his newfound companions.  He himself was hardly a typical soul, what with the lovely horns and tail his devilish ancestry had granted him, but he wasn’t the only unusual one in this bunch.  There was the armored girl, a half-orc for certain, the tiny girl whose sugar-sweet smiles revealed a set of fangs that gave her the look of a vampire, or perhaps a dhampir, but those teeth weren’t your typical incisors, and now this gray girl.  He’d have called her a half-elf, but that gray tone to her skin didn’t match any elf he’d ever met, not even the drow.  Had he ever seen a half-drow?  He searched his memory, trying to place the nature of her.  There was something different about this Drizzle Darksky.  About each of them, to be honest.  What fun.  Or something.

“I’m Arkris,” he said, bowing flamboyantly.  It struck him that each of them must be able to see in the dark, for there was no illumination in this pathetic chamber, and yet no one was screaming for light.  Interesting.  Meant she probably wasn’t a half-elf, and he was probably right about the vamp/dhampir.  “So all of this Red Shrike decor is very interesting, I’m sure, but why the bloody hell are we here?  I know damned well I was all cuddled up with someone warm and snuggly, and there was no stone box anywhere in the premises, at least to the best of my knowledge.  So why did I wake up in a box in what looks like a damned mausoleum, and what are you three doing in my life at all, at this point?  This makes no sense at all.”  Arkris scowled, glaring around at the assortment of carvings along the walls.  The Red Shrikes…it seemed familiar, somehow.  He thought about it for a moment.

“I am Shrikala Chanda,” the baby dhampir said with another of those too-sweet smiles.  She’d be cute, if those teeth didn’t make a man think she might accidentally rip his throat out.  Or maybe not so accidentally.  But still….cute.  She must have had similar thoughts about the lighting situation, because the next words out of her mouth were “I work as a lamplighter in Rosler’s Coffer.  Do any of you require a little illumination?  I am able to provide it, if such is needful.  You are not acting like the majority of the citizenry in town.  So scared they are of the night’s gentle darkness.  The darkness cannot hurt them, after all, but of course there are things that move in the night that can be dangerous.”  She smiled again, and for just a second, the glimpse of her fangs was almost sinister before fading back to the typical amiability.  Interesting.

“Great.  So we have a guard, a lamplighter, a gravedigger and the requisite spellcaster, which is yours truly,” Arkris said.  A dazzle of sparkling lights glimmered and danced across the outstretched surface of his palm for a moment before he let the darkness envelop them once again.  “Sounds like one of those cautionary stories from a child’s book of tales.”  He shook his head as if to clear it, which unfortunately did nothing but remind him that his damned head still ached from its unexpected collision with the damned box lid.  “These Red Shrikes.  I’ve read something about them.  I’m sure of it.”  He tapped one finger beside his lips, one foot tapping in a sympathetic rhythm.  “But really.  Why are we here, and where the fuck IS here anyway?”

Spoiler:

The member 'Celissa' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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'd20' : 10, 20, 15

Kiza, 12/12 hp, 18/11/17 AC, +1 initiative, smite evil 1/1, orc ferocity 1/1.

“No idea,” Kiza responded with a bit of a shrug to Arkris’ questions, before glancing towards Shrikala. “As long as I don’t have to read a book with far too tiny words cramped together, I’m fine without light. One of the useful things my father left me with.” Not that she had any idea who her father had been, but what he’d been was rather easy to deduce given how human her mother had been. “Sounds like we were all from around Rosler’s Coffer, so whatever brought us here  started there. Or at least whatever part of it involved us. No one else is showing up to explain what’s going on, so unless we find a note that helpfully provides us with answers, we’ll have to find those elsewhere.”

“Yes, an explanation would be good,” agreed Drizzle with a still somewhat distracted tone. “I’ve always been comfortable in the dark, so no need to bother on my behalf. But if anyone is injured beyond scrapes and bruises, do let me know. Unless any of you has an issue with receiving Pharasma’s blessings, of course, then you’ll have to settle for mundane healing. Which I can also provide, if needed.”

And her gaze once again travelled to the carving above her coffin, which apparently was interesting. Also throwing a glance towards the carvings, Kiza gave a faint shrug and turned away to look around the room. The Red Shrikes didn’t sound familiar to her but weren’t here to try to get them killed - or help them - so they didn’t hold much interest to her right now either. “Did you already get a good look around this place before I managed to get out?” she asked Shrikala instead. “Doesn’t look like much of interest is here, but I was a bit busy opening the other coffins.” Which had been completely empty, but the one she’d been in had stuff in it. Including her shield. Or what had looked like her shield from the brief glance she’d given it.

“At least whoever put us here decided we shouldn’t be completely helpless, which is odd enough on its own. I would recognise my armour and this axe from anywhere, but I didn’t go to bed wearing it. Clothes seem to fit better than I remember, but not going to complain about that.” Moving towards the coffin she’d been in as she said this, she glanced inside and pulled out the shield. It was just a simple one and she wasn’t as attached to it as her armour and weapon, but  it certainly felt familiar as she secured it in its proper place. Just with a few less chipped parts of the wood. The backpack was fancier than what she liked, which resulted in her raising an eyebrow and searching through it. The stuff inside was hers though, just in all the wrong places, but it also contained a potion that certainly hadn’t been in there the day before. “Anyone good with potions?” She called out as she continued to gather the things that were inside the stone coffin and putting them in better spots. “Looks harmless enough and obviously I recognise the symbol, but I didn’t have any potions when I went to bed so I rather not just assume it’s harmless.”

Should anyone respond with an affirmative answer and offer to take a look at it, she’d hand over the potion without fuss, although she’d obviously want it back afterwards - regardless of what it might be. Ragathiel’s symbol didn’t tend to just randomly show up near her, after all, even though she had no idea what its presence here might mean. Wherever here might be.

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GM

As Arkris considers the situation he finds himself in, a few things come to mind. He’s reasonably certain that Shrikala is indeed a dhampir, instead of a vampire or some other variation that has fangs. And while he likely never met one before, he does recall reading or hearing about Duskwalkers. Very rarely a gray-skinned child wearing white robes will suddenly appear at a graveyard or temple, with traces of a race visible but not quite being one of that race anymore. Not much is known about their origins or how they suddenly appear, but there are speculations that they might have been reborn, or brought back from the dead without being undead. Given her gray appearance, occupation near a graveyard and apparent worship of Pharasma - which matches with the interest in death that duskwalkers are rumoured to have - it’s a reasonable assumption that she’s a duskwalker instead of an odd gray skinned half-elf of some sort. Given his rolls, he’s free to know all common things about either race. Which excludes stuff like the original deal between the two psychopomps (duskwalker) or knowing exactly what variation they might be.

The Red Shrikes gained renown around 900 years ago during the Shining Crusade as a small group of capable individuals of various races who worked well together against the forces of the Whispering Tyrant. They either formed during or just before the Shining Crusade, considering they hadn’t been well known before then. Their exact deeds are overshadowed by the historically more important events that took place during the crusade, but it is written that they frequently fought alongside Ervin Roslar, one of the great heroes of the crusade. They apparently all survived the crusade and continued to live long lives, with the exact length depending on their natural life span considering they were a rather varied group of races and specialities. After the crusade they helped with the aftermath by destroying remaining parts of the forces of the Whispering Tyrant and stabilising the devastated regions. At some point they separated to live their own lives and raise children, but they likely stayed in touch. After a few years they started reappearing in written accounts as the group that saved a village or besieged city, settled a dispute that would have caused great unrest if left unsolved, or other deeds that increased their reputation as capable troubleshooters. Eventually they all died and were buried near their family or honoured in some place they helped to save. There were likely many who would have called them their friends at the end of their lives, which doesn’t help narrow down who might have decided those words needed to be carved across the wall of this specific room.


Just as with Shrikala, everyone can find all their belongings inside the sarcophagus they were in. If any of the items were dirty, they are now completely clean. Small tears and rips have been repaired as if they were never there. Supplies within things such as grooming kits and spell components pouches are also fully filled, as if they had just been restocked the day before. The backpacks are adorned with a stitched ribbon and neatly packed, but not quite in the right way. Any books, sheets of paper and cases were placed along the corner near their right foot, while any rope is neatly tied up with a ribbon and bundled in the corner near their left foot. There are also a few thin strips of fine paper placed along the sides, all of them unwritten and fragile feeling. The quivers wih bolts have a small leather cap covering the top, with finely done coloured stitching covering the edge between it and the bulk of the quiver. Their clothes are also a variation of the fanciest clothes they own and fit quite nicely, regardless of which clothes they had actually worn the day before or when going to bed.

Should they go through the items in their backpack, Arkris will find a small golden statue of what seems to resemble an imp. It is not magical and lacks fine details, but its crafted well enough to be recognisable as an imp. Kiza will find a potion with a small etching of Ragathiel’s symbol on it, which can be recognised as a potion of cure light wounds. Whereas Drizzle will find a small silver locket that is typically used to carry a small portrait, lock of hair or other sentimental item. This one, however, is empty.

If someone decides to explore the room, that someone will easily find the crate near the eastern wall. It is unlocked and upon opening it one finds a crowbar, two hammers, flint and steel, a few lamps and filled pints of oil that seem to still be useful. There’s also what appears to be a folded ladder (10 ft extended) and some jars with what probably used to be paint, but which are now completely dry and useless. There is a surprising lack of dust within the crate - or the room for that matter - but the items themselves appear old and forgotten. And since I’m occasionally nice, I’ll helpfully mention that the crate, sarcophagi, carvings along the wall and the door at the western wall are the only things of interest in the room. Beyond what can be found inside the crate and sarcophagi, there are no hidden items that a perception roll will allow you to find.

Shrikala, 12/12 HP, 18/15/13 AC, +7 initiative, spells level 1: Reduce Person, Inflict Light Wounds

It truly was an interesting and unusual situation, all told. Shrikala could never deny that the idea of death had always held its persuasive sway over her life—how not when she was born to it, after all? But finding herself enclosed within a mausoleum…that was not something she had imagined. Shrikala had a very active imagination, but this was a thing that was beyond the range of her imagining. “So why, do you think, have we been entombed as though we were dead? I do not feel dead. At least, I am fairly certain I do not. It is not a thing to which I am accustomed. But yes, I know potions. I have some talent for creating them. It is likely that I will be able to identify this one of yours, unless it is some fantastic substance indeed.” The thoughts spilled from her mouth as nimbly as they ran through her mind, quick and free-flowing. Smiling again, she took the potion that the half-orc seemed willing enough to hand her. “It is safe enough, for you,” she said after a moment’s inspection. “It’s naught but a simple healing draught.” Shrikala handed the potion back to Kiza, then added, “Unless, of course, it is something with which I have never come into contact.”

She turned her attention to the tall man, whose horns and tail made him rather unmistakable even in these low-light circumstances. He was pacing, glaring up at the carvings and inscriptions on the walls as if they had done something to personally offend him. “The Red Shrikes,” he muttered. “I’ve read of them, I’m sure of it. They fought the Whispering Tyrant’s forces, as I recall. But why the hell are these fragments plastered on the walls here? And why the fuck am I here? Or fine, why are we here, but whatever.” Seeing the others collecting belongings from the sarcophagi in which they had been encased seemed to spark the male to do the same thing. He frowned at something in his pack that Shrikala didn’t get a good look at, shoving whatever it was deeper into the bag. “This isn’t right. We need to get out of here. I’ve places to be, people to do, things to see. I don’t like this.” He shouldered his pack. “Shall we? If you ladies would rather camp out here, be my guests, but I want out of this freaking tomb.”

“Yes, of course,” Shrikala was quick to agree. “There is little point to remaining in this room when there is a yet unknown expanse outside. We should probably see what lies beyond, no?” Oh yes. This could be an intriguing adventure indeed.

Kiza, 12/12 hp, 18/11/17 AC, +1 initiative, smite evil 1/1, orc ferocity 1/1.

“I’ll take my chances,” Kiza said with light shrug as she took the potion back. “Thanks. And yes, I’m fine with going through the one obvious exit into whatever is likely waiting for us as part of whatever it is that put us here. I’d say the door is all yours if you’re dying to get out of here in a rush, but actually wouldn’t recommend that. Might not be a harmless prank or whatever harmless other thing. And you’re both not wearing much protection in case someone forgot to do the killing part before the burying part and is coming back to fix that mistake.”

Easily moving towards the door as she spoke the words with a somewhat indifferent tone, she considered the stone door and its lack of obvious locking mechanisms. “Not much room, but probably not locked. Might even be nice enough to just open outward without issues.” Of course, if there were folk with unwelcome intentions waiting for them, then the door opening was a pretty hard thing to miss. Not that she knew why someone would want to kill them in this way, but none of this made much sense and ignoring the possibility of a harmful intend seemed foolish to her.

“Everyone ready with drawn weapons and whatever else you might like? I much prefer looking ridiculous with drawn weapons in a pranking situation than looking slightly less ridiculous unarmed. Makes it easier to convince others to stop laughing. I’m sure you can imagine why.” Tossing out the words with a toothy grin towards the others across her shoulder, she didn’t actually wait to see if anyone was ready. Instead she gave the door a good kick to see if it was indeed unlocked and had the satisfying result of it opening with surprisingly little resistance. And no one immediately shooting or shouting at her.

Stepping through the door revealed another dark room and some sort of shelf like structure along the wall. Her gaze was quickly drawn away from that, however, as the sound of rattling bones reached her from the left. “Skeleton!” She called out even as she took a further step into the room and turned to face it with her shield. “Gaze upon me, Ragathiel, and shield me with your wings,” she whispered the familiar words softly as she stopped trying to figure out what was lumbering towards her. There was little time and far too little space to move and  fight, but at least it was less likely it could reach the civilians. Whatever the odd collection of moving bones might be.

Initiative:

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GM

The door opened into a room that’s fifteen feet wide and twenty feet long, five of which extends to the right of the door (north wall), with almost all walls being obstructed by low shelves with bones scattered on them, except for the one to the left of the now open door (east). There is technically room to stand and move between the shelves, but it’s difficult moving and probably not appealing to those who prefer to have space around them. Of course, they will already dislike this spaciousness of this room, considering there’s only a ten by ten feet area of mostly unoccupied space right behind the door. Kiza moved far enough into the room that someone else could easily stand inside the room while the door is fully open or fully closed, or less easily between her and the wall opposite of the door (west). Due to the size of the room the group is currently in, there’s only enough space for one person at a time to approach the door.

The skeleton is coming from where the south wall seems to open up into a corridor, instead of meeting the east wall. It’s currently ten feet away from the opened door and its eyeless skull is looking straight at Kiza. While most of it resembles a human skeleton, even a quick glance tells anyone with some knowledge of the human body that some essential bones are missing or hanging at a wrong angle. Then again, there’s never much natural about a moving pile of bones.

The member 'Silanae' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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'd20' : 9

The member 'Celissa' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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#1 'd20' : 18

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#2 'd20' : 18

Shrikala, 12/12 HP, 18/15/13 AC, +7 initiative, spells level 1: Reduce Person, Inflict Light Wounds

A moving pile of fleshless bones shuddered towards where the half-orc—no, Kiza; she might as well use the others’ names now that she knew them—stood.  Shrikala hesitated.  There wasn’t much room in the doorway, and although she knew she was quick, she wasn’t at all certain that her speed was a match for Kiza’s armor.  Her leathers just didn’t measure up, she feared.  “Lady Kiza!” she called, her voice pitched a little higher with anticipation and, yes, a touch of uncertainty.  “If you can be so kind as to block the creature’s attacks, perhaps I can poke at it from behind you.  Perhaps.  Maybe I could…”  Her voice trailed off.  Were she smaller, it would be easier to get around the half-orc, even if it meant attacking the skeleton’s ankles, so to speak.  Not yet though.  Not yet.  

She readied her rapier, but somehow managed to convince herself that now was not the time to take the lead.  Not if Lady Kiza did what her armor intimated that she should be able to do, anyway.  Shrikala wasn’t entirely certain if poking bones with a rapier would be as effective as, say, hurling one of those massive stone slabs at it.  Crushing the thing would probably be much more effective than pricking at it with a nicely sharpened rapier.  “Or we could throw one of those slabs at it!” she yelled excitedly, moving with a quick pace that was somehow halfway between running and skipping towards the nearest opened sarcophagus.  She’d moved the thing before; surely she could again!  It was a good—no, a brilliant!—idea!  Grinning excitedly, she threw herself into lifting the stone slab upwards.

Roll and Other Idiocy:

The member 'Celissa' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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'd20' : 9

The member 'Silanae' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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#1 'd20' : 15

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#2 'd20' : 14

Arkris, 7/7 HP, 12/12/10 AC, +6 initiative, spells; level 1: 4/5

“You idiot child!” Arkris muttered loudly, making no attempt whatsoever to conceal the utter disdain in his voice.  “That thing wouldn’t move far enough to be thrown without all of us doing far more work than is necessary, and no one wants to do more work than necessary, especially yours truly.”  The tiefling didn’t hold still during his tirade, moving up to stand several paces behind the half-orc with fluid ease.  The darkness, after all, was no barrier to one who had little need for light.  

Whispering an incantation, Arkris positioned his hands just so, releasing his spell.  A flare of colors sprayed forth from his fingertips, splashing the darkness with a wave of brilliant light.  Skeletons had no eyes, it was true, but they did, nevertheless, see through the magics which created them, vile beasts.  The color spray should have its intended effect.

And that would be quite enough work from him, thank you very much.

Spell Details:

The member 'Silanae' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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'd20' : 4

Drizzle, 9/9 hp, 13/13/10 AC, +5 initiative, channel 4/4, icicle: 7/7, recall 7/7, spells level 1: 3/3, ghost hunter 1/1.

Not the way she would have phrased it, but he wasn’t wrong either. Shaking her head a little, she moved closer to the door so she could see Kiza. She had just finished gathering her supplies - which did mostly seem to be hers - when the half-orc had opened the door and called out the rather unwelcome news. For a brief moment she’d thought that of course there could be a skeleton around here, but the reaction of the others indicated it was the unnaturally moving kind. Those had to be destroyed.

“Perhaps you can find something else that has a more useful size in the room instead?” She suggested to Shrikala while Arkris cast his spell and seemed to wisely stay away from where the skeleton seemed to be.  

“May the Gray Lady protect and shelter you,” she murmured as she gestured towards Kiza and shared the sacred blessing with the one who - apparently - was about to fight a skeleton. She couldn’t actually see it yet, but didn’t doubt it was there either. Once done she stepped further back into room where they had awakened, leaving the space near the door open for anyone else who might need it.

Spoiler:

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GM

As the darkness was pierced by the coloured light, the skeleton took a shuffling step closer before it abruptly stopped as the light enveloped it. And even after the light was gone, the skeleton remained like that. Motionless, with not even a sound of protest or a single shifting bone.

Lasts for?:

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Kiza, 12/12 hp, 18/11/17 AC, +1 initiative, smite evil 1/1, orc ferocity 1/1.

“That helps,” Kiza commented at the sight of the skeleton stopping its movements. The thing wasn’t destroyed yet, but it not attacking was much nicer than being attacked by something that should have stayed dead. Moving towards it still didn’t result in the thing moving, not even a twitch, so she did the only thing that seemed to make even a bit of sense. She slashed at it with her axe and did her best to avoid it getting actually stuck on bone. Not the most efficient weapon for crushing bones, but it would at least help keep its attention on her while she came up with a better way of destroying it.

The skeleton didn't move to avoid the strike, allowing her axe to slice against and then through it. Blinking, she stared down in surprise as the upper half of the skeleton became separated from the rest and fell down, with the falling bones actually causing the lower part of the skeleton to also crumble into a heap. A careful little push of her foot against it resulted in no movement, but it had stopped moving ever since the light hit it.

“Well, it looks dead. Again. What exactly did that spell do? I don’t have that much experience fighting these things, but that was easier than I expected.”

Presuming it was actually destroyed. It certainly looked like a harmless pile of bones, but she had never destroyed one with an axe before. A mace or hammer was much better at crushing them into fine enough pieces that the foul magic that had created them stopped working. Still, she wasn't going to complain.

Spoiler:

The member 'Silanae' has done the following action : Make Your Rolls!

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#1 'd4' : 4, 4

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#2 'd4' : 2

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#3 'd20' : 2

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#4 'd6' : 6