Episode 2

Maeriks reacts as quickly as he can and attempts to grab the falling portcullis before it reaches full speed.

(EDIT:) Sizhen stops his progress though and keeps him from injury. The weight and momentum of the iron gate-door is too much. It crashes into the stone floor with a loud bang.

Bryn hears the locking mechanism clack behind the covered panel panel above. He can guess that the portcullis is locked into place now. The exit is shut.

Almost simultaneously, the exterior heavy wood door also swings shut with a creak and the clacking of more metal. Likely some further part of the trap apparatus designed to close the door from the hinges or the outside.

Instantly the small amount of sunlight is gone. Now the only light in the room is the torch held by Kray. After the short explosion of sounds of crashing wood and sliding metal, the caged room is now deathly silent.

Except...

A gasping sound rolls out from under the corner tarps.

The tarps themselves continue to shift and move. It is clear now that something beneath them is stirring, more and more vigorously as if it is a man or creature awakening from slumber.

In a single motion, a woman sits up from under the tarp. The rugged cover falls from her face and shoulders, bunching down around her waist and legs that still sit flush on the floor.

Her eyes are glazed over in a strange color, her eyelids swollen, suggesting that she may be blinded. But then her vision seem to be working. She looks directly at the light. Then she sniffs at the air and gives a heaves as if she is choking or belching.

Putting her hand on the ground and shifting her hips, she throws over a knee to brace herself and stand.

She rises to her feet with wobbly movements, off balance. She is wearing a simple tattered robe dress and necklace of lined teeth of some large fanged beast.

She looks terrible. Beyond haggard, she looks...like a corpse.

Upon one last look, perhaps it is not a woman, but a man. His beard is growing out in stubble.



Emaciated but with a swollen belly, the gaunt sickened man turns and looks at Kray's burning torch, as if stupefied by the fire light.

There is still movement under the other tarps.
Prediction: there are two or three more people covered, laying underneath.

What do you do?

The horrid waif man sniffs at the air and gives a disgusting belch.

An old man rolls out awkwardly from the tarp. Stumbling but rather quick, he rights himself to his feet. First facing the back wall, he makes small steps to turn around. He seems stiff with old age.

Hunched over he glares at the group, sniffing.



He opens his mouth in an appalling gape, but making no scream. But then he gasps.

He looks like a dead man walking.

The thin waif man reaches out towards Sizhen!

Anybody: ROLL GROUP INITIATIVE!

note="DMJ"]
Trece nods, after sitting in silence listening to Palla Ba's every word "If this is what you wish of me, it shall be done." He takes an extremely meagar sip of tea and stands walking to the door but stopping by the cabinet dresser. "I do not seek wealth, I seek the completion of your requests. I do not seek any repayment from you, you've given me everything." He turns to Palla Ba, snatching the satchel of the dresser and goes into a kneel in one fluid movement "If these are valueless out of my hands, I will take them with the utmost honor. With them, I will kill those that call themselves your enemy, I will erase any one that seeks to lay a harmful hand on you. With this gift your name will live on, darkness will fear the man 'Palla Ba'." He stands and exits, securing the satchel onto his belt.[/note]Trece interposes himself between the undead and Sizhen, drawing a spoon*, a blur of punches quickly following.

note="HypCo"]
Cool. Let's go with this on the sharp spoons.

The spoon holster has 3 slots. For each:
1) a finely crafted masterwork steel spoon with masterful etchings
2) a rather rugged and impromptu white cast iron spoon
3) the historic spoon that Thirteen crafted himself and used to escape captivity
(The newer spoons 1 & 2 are fashioned in a similar manner to Thirteen's design. They have sharpened ends that make them like knives. These however were actually designed as knife weapons intentionally from the beginning, so they have more of a sturdy look of a real blade, though they commit to the idea of the shape and sizing of a spoon head and handle.)

Stats out like this:
1) Steel: This weapon is +1 to Damage. It is also built for density and strength, so it has Advantage on Saves for breakage if that ever comes up in the future. Generally it should be usable against any opponent, even armored ones.
2) White Cast Iron: Breaks on natural roll of 1. -1 to hit and damage against normal targets.
Versus Devils, Edimmu, and other Helish (DM will identify): +1 to hit and damage. Natural 19 is Critical. Natural 20 is Triple Damage.
3) From here forward, we will consider that Thirteen gets a +1 to hit on Attack rolls with his original spoon. It is an important part of his storyline, it has (seems to have) exceptional emotional value to him, he is extremely familiar with it. So he is a bit better at scoring a hit with it. I do think that a regular spoon has some vulnerability on ruggedness, carries some risk attacking armored opponents and could have longterm wear-and-tear issues. No mechanics on that though, we can just keep it in mind and make it up as we go. You probably get the picture and I will alert you if there is a risk in the circumstance, as mentioned in the battle vs. the clay Golem.

I generally think of spoon knives as naturally 1d3 damage in a normal person's hand, but I'll defer to whatever you have going on with the Monk build or your interpretation of damage. I think it is higher for some reason because it is a Monk weapon, but I haven't read up on that anytime lately. With these new weapons on damage dice, just rate them out in whatever way that you are doing that makes sense for the original spoon. They are different in construction maybe, but the same in terms of translation mechanics.[/note]

Trece
TR1

As quick as lightning, Trece steps forward and assaults the sickly man who is lurching towards Sizhen.

Trece stabs the man in the side of the head with the first strike. Blood coats Trece's small spoon blade.

The man's body surges from the pain, but before he stumbles Trece follows with a devastating abdominal thrust punch and then a piercing second stab that punctures into the man's left chest, likely nicking a lung.

The thin man crumples to the floor like a skin-bag of bones and does not move.

note="HypCo,lenpelletier"]Sizhen and Trece notice that there was a sound of puffing air when the strange man was hit with the spoon knife in the chest.
Now that the man is on the ground, there is a small wispy line of gray vapor puffing out of that injury site. It is an odd detail, and easily missed in the low light of the torch, but these guys see it because they are right there close.[/note]

The other decrepit old man begins to walk at an angle towards the eastern (your right, his left) wall after the first sickly man goes down. He puts his head down and does not look at anyone.

The old man is gasping and belching as he walks. Disgusting.

His old deathly face contorts and clenches. He is crushing his eyelids opened and closed repeatedly.

Kray stabs the feeble old man in the gut and then rakes the Otessite blade out in a rough motion down and right. The old man is opened like a sack and his guts start to spill out. A horrid smell overtakes the immediate vicinity.

The man is surprisingly still standing. His hands grip the gaping wound at his abdomen. Kray brings the Judgement around again, arching from high downward, raking across the man's shoulder, chest, and belly, splitting another fatal wound almost corner to corner.

As the man stumbles back Kray hits him full on in the head, using the torch in full swing as a club.

A flash of light. A burst of sparks that blast out and then fall to the ground. When the torch hits the man's head, his body drops to the floor with a loud thud. After an instant expansion of light, the fire of the torch almost extinguishes as the burning part of the sticks are knocked free at the impact. Near complete darkness falls over the room for a brief instant.

Kray holds the torch angled straight down so that the burning tips can again ignite the greater part of the tightly wrapped wood bundle. Slowly the fire grows back again, Kray turns the torch, and the fire stabilizes again.

The old decrepit man's body lies in a heap near Kray's feet.

There is gore scattered on the ground, blood pouring out.

And also, Kray sees...coming out of the man's belly. ....smoke?

While the light of the torch dies down, there is the sound of shuffling in the back of the room. A glimpse in the dying light of the tarp being thrown aside.

Still in the failing light, the pitter-patter of feet. Running from right to left along the back wall!

When the torch flame revives and gradually covers the room again in the orange fire light, everyone sees her standing over at the west (left) wall. Apparently she skittered away from the tarp and looped around to the side of the statues.

Now she stands staring at the men with empty eyes. She is crouched for action, somewhat like a cat, but also shaking. She gasps for air. Her face showing the signs of painful heaves and draws.

There is blood on her face and chest. The tissue around her eyes is swollen and the surface of her eyes is milky and dull. Her simple dress is in taters and most of her body is exposed. Her skin is blotchy with some sort of discoloration or sores.



She stares at the group from the side of the room, partially shielded behind one of the left-most statues. Her chest continues to rise and fall violently, which is causing her shoulders and head to rock back and forth

Open Action for any PC