Darcon remembered only a squeezing, suffocating pain and then knew only blackness. Some time later...a minute? A year? He seemed to come back to his senses slowly. He could feel his limbs, feel his face, feel the hard surface that he was laying on. But he could see only pitch blackness.

When he tried to move his hands he discovered why. He was laying in a box, wooden from the feel of it, that gave him only a couple of inches of movement to either side. He was trapped in a coffin.
This message was last updated by the GM at 17:53, Tue 06 Aug 2019.

There was a sudden wavering, a shuddering, a shift as if reality itself had skipped a beat. In the blackness Darcon could feel the coffin walls reverberate. But it wasn't a good sign. They lurched inwards, squeezing in to crush him.

The last thing Darcon remembered was green glowing, ectoplasmic claws coming towards him to rend his flesh. That and the feeling of pain, which he now felt as well in the form of suffocating pain in his chest.

In the blackness he tried to feel for the comfort of his staff but found he could barely move his hands; he appeared to be in a box. Am I buried alive? he thought in growing horror.

"Is anyone there? Constantine, Garland, Lady Kendra, anyone?" Darcon yelled out loudly, trying to keep the desperation from his tone.

---

ooc: Can Darcon still cast his spells, at least those with Verbal components only? What about Somatic ones, can he move his hands that much?

The crushing walls of the prison contracted further, and further, and further, while Darcon called out for his compatriots. He felt a pressure on his mind, an insistent demand to submit, to give up, to surrender to despair. His will surged in him, decrying that despondence.

As if in reaction to his thoughts the walls around him reverberated again, seeming to resonate, and the walls of the coffin began to splinter. With a crash the lid burst open. Darcon was surprised to find himself, not buried, but laid out on a low flat table.

The chamber around him was large and filled with pews and Pharasman iconography, an altar at the head behind him. It was clearly a temple, although not one that he recognized. He was laid out in his coffin in fine funerary robes.

The room was empty except for an elderly priest, balding, with a rotund middle and pleasant crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He didn't seem surprised in the slightest that the coffin in front of him had just burst open. Instead he just smiled and moved his hands in blessing.

"Hello, Jed." He said.

---

Darcon succeeds a will save to resist the effects of the haunt, which takes 2 damage instead.

Darcon stared with mouth agape at the chamber around him, taking in the religious iconography and trying to recall anything he might know about it and the temple itself. Was he dead, and in some form of an afterlife?

He started when the elderly priest appeared, breaking his chain of thought. Instinctively rising to his feet and gazing at the priest warily Darcon took a few cautious steps backwards. The mage noted with alarm that he did not have his belongings on his person, neither his staff nor his pouch of spell paraphernalia. Still, that did not make him completely defenceless.

"Hold it priest, maintain your distance. Who are you and where am I?" Darcon snapped testily, raising his hands in a defensive gesture yet trying to read the newcomer at the same time. "I warn you, I am not a man to be trifled with, and my name is not Jed."

---

Knowledge (Religion): 09; Intimidate: 03; Sense Motive: 16 meh :P

As Darcon backed away the priest moved slowly forwards. Not advancing on him, simply maintaining his proximity. He spread his hands in a welcoming gesture.

"Cast off your aspirations, my son. Cast off your ambitions. Hide not your true name. You have come here to rest. Rest." He said.

That smile never left his face. His words were gentle. Soothing. And yet, behind them Darcon could sense some...hunger. Some spark of interest in his person that was far from innocent. Even as the thought crossed his mind a lance of pain seared through his head.

---

The strange priest doesn't seem intimidated by you, and you aren't able to tell much about your surroundings apart from being in a temple of Pharasma.

You do sense that the priest is much more interested in you than his laid back demeanor would suggest.

You make two will saves, one for free with no penalties for failure and another prompted by the haunt. Unfortunately you fail both, and take 4 damage.

Darcon gritted his teeth as a lance of pain seared through his head. Gasping for breath as his vision wavered, he glared at the vile 'priest' and held out his right hand, palm outward and displaying the tattoo emblazoned thereupon.

"You do not fool me, foul thing. I warned you, now suffer!" the mage said, furrowing his brow and uttering a word of power. The tattoo on his palm blazed and there was a sudden flash of crackling blue light that enveloped the mage and the priest.

---

Darcon's mystic power washed over the priest, enough to fry and dazzle. The energy washed over him. Through him. It seemed to have no effect.

The smiling priest advanced at his stately pace, now seeming to be looming larger. No, he was larger. Each step he took added to his height, until the short, rotund little man was a head taller than Darcon. His calm smile widened into a grin.

"You powers are useless here. Come. Sit. Relax. I mean you no harm." He said as another shooting pain shot through Darcon.

---

Nothing disrupts your spell but it seems to have no effect on the priest.

You fail a save against the effects of the haunt and take 2 damage.

Darcon lowered his hands slowly, as if surrendering to the hopelessness of his situation. Nothing he did appeared to have an effect on the sinister priest.

He shuddered as another lance of pain shot through him, and the mage realized he likely did not have long to live, even in this form and place.

"Tell me, what do I have to do to get out of here? What kind of a bargain would you consider to release me?" he said to the priest through clenched teeth, loathing the fact he had almost resorted to begging for his life.

"Come. Sit." The priest sat on the front pew and patted the seat beside him invitingly.

"You fight so hard. You struggle so much. Surely you want to rest. To sleep. There is no bargain, no escape from this place. But to surrender, to lay down your burdens, that is the road to enlightenment."

The pain was lesser now, a dull ache, and yet it throbbed behind Darcon's eyes.

---

You fail a save against the effects of the haunt and take 1 damage.

Darcon sneered at the priest as he invited him to sit, and remained standing. "Do not patronize me creature, even if you manage to drain me dry my companions will end up cleansing this place of your foul taint, and that of the other scum like you!"

The walls of the temple seemed to shudder just as the coffin had, quivering as in a high wind. For the first time a frown creased the priest's face and he pushed himself up. Again he seemed to tower. Higher and higher, until Darcon barely met his waist. His voice boomed through the church.

"Fool! Your resistance is...it is futile! Submit! Surrender to me! Beg! Crawl!"

He stomped forwards, his footsteps shaking the floor. Around them the walls rattled like twigs in a gale. The priest lashed out with a hand larger than Darcon was tall, pinning him to the floor. He seemed to swell, to baloon until he filled the entire space. He was amorphous, his bloated face filling Darcon's vision.

"Submit to me! Submit!" His voice was edged with hysterical rage.

---

Darcon succeeds on a will save against the effects of the haunt, which takes 5 damage.

Darcon felt a surge of...something, and the pain in his head appeared to lessen, while the 'priest' appeared to be under duress (or perhaps it was another one of its tricks). Still, the mage realized his companions were likely aiding him in their own ways, and the thought cheered him.

"It seems enlightenment will have to wait, at least for me. You on the other hand will be the one find enlightenment in our encounter, if I am not mistaken," he said with a smile.

---

Decided to post based on your main thread update, hope that's ok. Also rolled a Will Save: 08 Not good...
22:47, Today: Darcon rolled 8 using 1d20+6.  Will Save.

"Nooooo! Impossible!" The priest raved. He raised his giant fists and brought them down on Darcon's chest with enough force to squish him like a bug.

The blows glanced off as if they were feathers brushing iron. Above them the roof of the church exploded outward to reveal an endless expanse of inky blackness stretching into the sky forever.

"You are mine. MINE! THEY ARE ALL MINE, AND I WILL HAVE THEM!" The ghost howled and raged.

Some invisible force seized him, dragging him backwards. His arms and legs pinwheeled helplessly as he tried to escape. But escape was impossible, and the last thing that Darcon saw was his form disappearing into the distance of that void.

---

Congratulations, you've defeated the second haunt! You can post an extro here if you would like, or just resume posting in the main thread.