"Fighting among ourselves in this place helps our enemy," said Ceila.  "Resting now lets us recover some of our strength, and that's done, now, so let's move on."

It felt odd to try and be even in a small way a peace-maker, but it was true-- they were in danger here, and didn't have time for fighting.

“You are not our leader, either, Barbarian...and we are NOT your food.” Jun Jia met Chokhar’s gaze with a steely calm. “Know that.” She looked at Ceila, but didn’t challenge the other woman. “You speak wisely, Ceila. That is most welcome in present company. Very well.”

you'll never know how close you came to a random encounter. except that now i told you.
Full benefits of long rest, but the paranoia is kicking in. I'm railroading a bit, you're at 35, if you want to go back up the stairs and explore area 29 just say so.

You rest up. No concept of time. You feel better, while at the same time more hopeless that you'll never escape.

You take the stairs down.

Deeper.

The ghostly chant fills this room. Characters can discern a dozen or so voices saying, over and over, “All we want are pretty little homes.”

The cult amassed several “relics” that it used in its rituals. These items are stored in thirteen niches along the walls:

A small, mummified, yellow hand with sharp claws on a loop of rope - this artifact calls out to any evil aligned character "Pick me up, put me on."
A knife carved from a human bone
A dagger with a rat’s skull set into the pommel
A bloodshot eyeball, the shape of the iris is like a reptile's eye, but the size is human - this artifact beckons to any evil aligned character "With me you will see true."
An aspergillum carved from bone
A folded cloak made from stitched ghoul skin
A desiccated frog lashed to a stick
A bag full of bat guano
A hag’s severed finger
A 6-inch-tall wooden figurine of a mummy, its arms crossed over its chest
An iron pendant adorned with a devil’s face
The shrunken, shriveled head of a halfling
A small wooden coffer containing a dire wolf’s withered tongue

A closed iron gate waits to the south where the chanting emanates.

The knife carved from human bone caught Jun Jia’s eye. She picked it up and looked it over. If the item didn’t attack her or inflict any other harm, she would pocket it. She also pocketed the coffer with the dire wolf tongue.
This message was last edited by the player at 02:03, Fri 02 Apr 2021.

"I don't like the looks of any of this," said Ceila.  "Still, some may have power..."

She picked up the halfling head.

"Perhaps I can find a place to put you to rest," she told it, sadly.

She picked up the cloak, as well.  Perhaps it would shield her from the senses of the undead?

Vyktor was disgusted by the relics in their niches, save one. He carefully touched the dagger with the rat's skull in the pommel. It would make an interesting novelty if nothing else, something to remember this hellish house... as if he'd ever in what remained of his life need a reminder. He pocketed it and moved quietly to the southern gate and tested it softly so as not to disturb the chanting cultists beyond. They'd want the element of surprise.

Chokahr eyed the collection of bizarre trinkets. After his companions had finished their picking, he simply swung his backpack over to the front, opened it, and shoved the items inside unceremoniously.

"We can sort that out later." His backpack already half-removed, he placed it on the ground and donned the cultist's robe he had been carrying with him. "A disguise might be useful after all."

The barbarian checked his weapons and moved on to open the iron gate and face the cult.

38
The chanting stops as you peer into this forty-foot-square room. The smooth masonry walls provide excellent acoustics. Featureless stone pillars support the ceiling, and a breach in the west wall leads to a dark cave heaped with refuse. Murky water covers most of the floor. Stairs lead up to dry stone ledges that hug the walls. In the middle of the room, more stairs rise to form an octagonal dais that also rises above the water. Rusty chains with shackles dangle from the ceiling directly above a stone altar mounted on the dais. The altar is carved with hideous depictions of grasping ghouls and is stained with dry blood.

(Quick, remind me, who is wearing a cult robe and who isn't?)

Ceila was wearing the robe and the cloak.  A risky move, but they seemed important, and her oath was to defeat evil by any means necessary... including wearing their sigils, if that seemed wise.

She cautiously entered the room, looking around for the source of chanting.

Jun Jia lowered her head so the cultists could only see her mouth from the hood of the cultist robe that she’d also pilfered. She moved in unison with Ceila, noting the hideous decor of the chamber. The altar depicted ravenous ghouls clutching at what very well could have been the victim whose blood stained the stone. Jia grasped the bone knife, recalling one of many blood-curdling tales a Hag of Kara-Tur once told her.

According to the Wu, dark rites incorporated human and animal bones into relics of necromantic power. Certain items could detect or even harm the undead. Jun Jia hoped that her newfound knife was one of them.

Vyktor entered and immediately began to circle to his left, hugging the wall. He too had the hood of his cultists' robe pulled low. He quickly scanned the room for other exits, or entrances should their ruse be discovered. Beneath the robes, his hands rested easily upon his weapons, the wood and bone reassuring in this eerie and evil place.

Covering his head with the cowl of the robes, Chokahr entered the room behind his companions, following behind Vyktor in order to cover the room evenly. The place made him nervous. Not so much the decoration and general ambiente, but something about placing himself directly in the midst of enemy ranks did not sound right to his ears. He checked his weapon imperceptibly and kept his head down while looking for a good spot to stay.

The cultists' shadows appear first. In the dim lights you see that is all they are. But their leader steps forward. And forward. His towering height streatches all the way up to he has to bend to avoid hitting the 10' ceiling.

"Youuuuuu...wear our robes...sooooooo...I make you this choice. Join me in the ritual and I will showwwwwww you what you musssssst do. Or..."

He pulls off his robe to reveal that he has four arms, two of them hold an executioner's axe, the other two hold a greatsword. You cannot catch his face behind the cult mask he wears, but you have a strong intuition that it's just a skull.

"Or make a sacrifice and I will show you how to leave."

He doesn't mention the third option, but usually people pick the ritual.

"Forgive my ignorance, for I am new to all of this, but can you instruct us as to the purpose of the ritual? Understanding will help us focus our faith and ensure the ritual's success..." Vyktor said, approaching the four-armed cultist. Beneath his robes his right hand twitched, eager to be about its business in what must be an inevitable end.

"What is required for the ritual and the sacrifice?"


Moving slowly to within 30' of the Quadra-cultist

"Yes. Understanding. You don our robes but you know nothing. We are the cult of the one who whispers. He is the Ancient before the Ancient, the land before it was taken from him. In this ritual I will rend each of your souls from your mortal coil so that you may hear him speak to you. He will set you on the path you must go.

"But he values free will. And so the other option is to sacrifice one among you, and the rest will be escorted safely from this house of death, and you may continue whatever path seems best to you."

“Do you speak of Orybys?” Jun Jia mentioned the name that Rose, the journal, and documents all described. “What becomes of our souls after this ‘rending’?” She watched the hooded figure with the four arms, awaiting his response for further Insight into what they faced.

OOC:

17:18, Today: Jun Jia rolled 17 using 1d20+3.  Insight .

Ceila awaited an answer, while moving nearer to the figure.  This could easily become a fight, now, and she wanted to be ready.

Having his soul torn from his body did not sound like something Chokahr would enjoy, not matter the details. However, there was a detail in the monster's words...

"Who took his land from him? And how can this injustice be undone?" he asked, carefully watching the creature's reaction. His hand rested gently on the hammer's head, ready to draw it in the blink of an eye.

The Leader ignores your attempts to learn without choosing.

"There is nothing more you can glean while in your flesh. I have offered you the choice. Now choose."

Jun can figure that he means to slice off all of your heads in this ritual. Your bodies are blocking the whisperer from speaking to you.

choose your destiny:
1. ritual - talk to the whisperer
2. sacrifice - one must die, the others will escape the house
3. there's always that third option. :)

“You want a life from among us, correct?” Her eyes swept the immediate area in search of something that could meet that need.

OOC:

17:08, Today: Jun Jia rolled 18 using 1d20+3.  Perception .

Ceila continued to move into position.  None of the options this thing offered appealed; destroying it seemed far better.  But, still... she should listen.

"Take your time. I am patient."

It was clear what must be done. There would be no fooling him. A rat? You kidding me? What game do you think we are playing? This is Curse of Stuart.

Vyktor of Rosewylde began to loosen the front of his cultist robe. "One must die for the rest to leave the house. Very well..." He took another step forward toward the four-armed being, pulling the robes open at the breast.

"Since someone within this hall must die, I take the responsibility upon myself... to choose YOU!"

Vyktor's movements were quick as to be barely discernible. One instant he was facing their enemy, the next instant a strange steel-barreled weapon was pointed at its face!

There was a sudden explosion of sound and an issue of thick smoke as the strange weapon in Vyktor's hand barked its own sort of battle-cry and belched a gout of flaming propellant and a ball of lead the diameter of his thumb!


Pistol Attack!: Vyktor Rosewylde rolled 8 to miss!
Cunning Action: Hide - seeking cover!

Jun Jia saw Vyktor’s decision and responded in kind. “We must decline your kind offer to set up council with the one you serve. E Er Deli Qi Baozha!” Chop off their heads for a conversation with some bogus “god”? Was he kidding?

Unlike the earlier run-in with the specter of the late maid, though, Jun Jia’s Eldritch Blast missed.

OOC:

01:05, Today: Jun Jia rolled 9 using 1d20+3.  Eldritch Blast.


This message was last edited by the player at 05:14, Fri 09 Apr 2021.

Behind his mask you can hear his smile.

"Typical humans." A mark on the greatsword shows apparently the Leader cut the bullet in twain, though you didn't really see him move.

Technically eldritch blasts are invisible, so I don't have a cool description of it.

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init has begun: players turns