Session 22: Group 1 Overview

'GLORFINDEL', a Travelling Healer (Seltyiel)
'KANDI', a Traveling Courtesan (Cynthia)
'EEVEE', The Sorrowful Blind', a Traveling Monk (Hel)
ARCTURUS the Dragon-Slayer, Descendant of Arcthane
~11pm, 28th of June, 5th Era 1486 RE (Day 16)
'The Well', The Undercroft, Dunfarg, Southern Val Nemor

Through the dark and damp of the dungeons they press on, venturing deeper into this underground complex. Their chances of survival had improved somewhat following the unshackling of Arcturus the Dragon-Slayer (whom they had found locked away in one of the many cells down in the crypts.) Mélanie Van Scherade; the Hellknight Solo Agent was also bound to them for the time being. Together they were a beacon of life and hope, in the grim, zombie infested depths.

With only one way to go, the party progressed further into the dungeon until they found a medium sized chamber with a well in it's center. Upon entering the chamber, they realized quickly that they were not alone. Ahead of them, guarding the entrance to the next room stood three cloaked figures. One with a feminine stance and body shape, the second was hunched and spoke with a serpentine male voice, the third was also male, and was tall and well-built. They address the party expectantly with sinister and mocking voices.

Ulandra: "Five of you came to this place, and yet only four of you stand before us now. It seems that Nefarion expired before he could claim his glory...how tragic."
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Zephaistyan 'Coffin-Fang': "Expiration is not an issue, Ulandra. We have his corpse do we not? I'll make sure he reaches his full potential."
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Markon: "Your talk is boring me. I'm going to kill them now."

And following their spiel, the three of them rushed the party members before they could all enter the room. Combat followed, and the parties battled with each other ferociously. The brute, Markon charged Arcturus, wailing on him with a glowing tetsubo. A glint of plate mail flashed as he reared up the giant club he was wielding, and a bald tattooed face looked down on the Dragon-Slayer with vicious contempt. The cloaked female; Ulandra, drew a wicked curved blade made from a crystalline material, and she hacked away at Hel and Cynthia. Two horns stuck out of her crimson forehead as her hood revealed her face - she was a Tiefling. The third hunched one stood back away from the fighting, seeming to cast curses, hexes, and necromancy to aid his teammates. A skeleton with ebony bones and glowing red eyes detached itself from one of the stone walls. It drew two short-swords and charged at the party. The battle was long and arduous, but eventually the party was able to use their advantage of numbers to overwhelm the trio. They dispatched the tiefling; Ulandra, the brute; Markon, and the Black Skeleton. The serpentine necromancer; Zephaistyan, fled for his life, however he didn't get far, and was cut down before he could escape the room.

The party rested up for a moment, regaining their strength and preparing themselves to continue on. They took some of the weapons from the dead cloaked individuals, and other useful supplies that they had. Seltyiel recovered a grimoire from the necromancer bound in black leather - the front cover looked to be fashioned from a human face. In all his endeavors however, he could not clearly read the archaic contents of it...perhaps it was for the best. Arcturus took some time to inspect the strangely positioned well in the centre of the room, lowering a bucket to collect some of the 'water' at the bottom. What he drew to the surface was another matter entirely. The bucket came up with a foul-smelling, green ichor, but (using his Paladin abilities), Arcturus was able to purify the liquid so that it was once again clear, and drinkable holy water. Before they prepared to leave into the next chamber, their ears were met with the faint sounds of screams, whimpering, and hysterical laughter. The door to this room was fashioned from a huge block of stone. Stretched across it was a leather canvas, and behind it, human hands, feet, and legs could be seen, seemingly sealed behind the canvas, inside the door. A central human skull protruded in the middle, staring out towards the party. Cautiously they crept through the stone door, and inside, they saw a roaring furnace, and next to it, a person was shackled to a stone table. A figure in an apron is hunched over the victim with sharp implements in hand. He laughs to himself as he tortures the helpless man - slicing and peeling off bits of the person's still-living flesh. Watching the whole process, sits a small, cloaked figure at the end of the stone table. Arcturus leads everyone in quietly, as the torturer hasn't noticed them yet, as he gets closer, he can hear the deranged man talking to the smaller, cloaked figure.

"What joy! what endless joy! To think I'd been wasting my life with the Hell-Knights. This is truly art, my child! A never-ending canvas of flesh and paint. With this new gift...we can create the most magnificent of human masterpieces!"

Unbeknownst to the current party members, the torturer had previously worked for the Hell-Knights. Nefarion and the monk; Sij, had encountered him before he went AWOL, and back then, he was known as Xzavier. Arcturus had no qualms in executing this torturer where he stood. Using his Dragon Lance, he ran the spear all the way through Xzavier's back, killing him instantly. The smaller cloaked figure recoils in panic, and flees out of the room before the others have time to stop her. When the others catch up to the Dragon-Slayer, they are horrified to recognize the victim shackled to the stone table. It was none other than their previous comrade; Nefarion...well....most of him anyway. This creature of a man bawled and wailed in anguish...a tragic, and terrible form...he'd had his eyes, teeth, and genitalia removed...as well as most of his skin. Without a shadow of a doubt, it was obvious to all of them what needed to be done. No words were spoken between them, and Arcturus was the one to finally silence Nefarion. With sorrow in their hearts, they continue on, exiting the torture chamber and passing through another corridor with more locked prison cells. Both dead and undead inhabit the cells, and adjacent to the corridor's end lies a sort of storeroom. There are shelves, stocked with human body parts. Hands, feet, legs, organs. The smell is unbearable. The party notice that some of the body parts resemble those of a samsaran (having a blue, translucent tinge to them), they predict that these belonged to their former compatriot monk; Sij - although they were in no hurry to find out for definite. Among the severed limbs and viscera, there was a barrel containing weapons (presumably those belonging to the victims). Enduring the stench of the rotting flesh, Seltyiel rummaged through it with the hope of finding something useful or valuable. Most of it was junk, but he happened upon a musket - which seemed to be in moderately good condition.

The droning sound of ritualistic chanting echoes louder and louder as the party progress towards the next stone door. The stone door is slightly ajar, which enables Arcturus to glance inside slightly. The chamber is the largest they've seen so far. The ceiling is much higher, and for the first time, they can see moonlight coming down from a chute leading higher into the ceiling. Tapestries made from human skin line the walls - each of the painted scenes on them are of a disturbing, undead nature. At the far end of the room, Arcturus can see an altar to an unknown deity, and in front of it sits a sort of 'throne', seemingly made out of bones. The naive young boy he once knew as Os had now taken the form of a sickening, menacing ghoul. With glowing green eyes, and crooked grin, he stretched his long, pointed fingers into the air in appreciation of his followers chants. It's at this point, Arcturus notices several more hooded individuals with their attention fixated on their Dark Master. The chamber would've been pitch black were it not for the hundreds of candles near the altar. The brightest source of light however emanated from something placed on the altar. Like an orb of energy and radiance, the Human Skull sat there. It seemed to be made of a golden material although there was something very peculiar, and unsettling about it's aura...it was most unlike anything they had seen before. The small cloaked figure (who'd evaded the party in the previous room) was peeking our from behind the 'Throne of Bones'.

"Cast aside...shunned by society. And why? Because we are different from them, that's why! They

don't see it, but we have great strength on our side. We are the Afflicted Ones. Like spiders in the

Osamorté with the Skull of Envy

dark, we weave chaos, engulfing all who are too blind to see...and we remain unseen through our great cunning and wits...beneath their very feet. But don't despair, my loyal acolytes....the time is near...we will surface from the dark below, and take what is rightfully ours from those who have wrongfully damned us. In life or death, they will all kneel before Osamorté!! They will all suffer before the end!!!"
- Osamorté the Unholy, Dark Master of the Afflicted Ones, and Malefic Envy.

Osamorté then addresses the uninvited Arcturus - he had been aware of his presence the whole time. But it's not with fear or dread that he speaks to him, quite the contrary in fact, for it seems Osamorté had been waiting for this confrontation, and he appeared to relish in it, knowing that they had made it this far. He finished with a smirk and the promise of death, before setting his acolytes on the party. The fight commenced, and the two forces collided in the center of the chamber. After a long and taxing struggle with the acolytes, Osamorté grabbed the golden skull and aimed the face towards the party, launching two synchronous beams of energy at them. Using on-the-spot improvised alchemy, Seltyiel sends forth a swarm of killer bees, and they cover the Dark Master stinging him all over. Seeing his followers numbers thinning, he eventually came in closer to action, and proceeded to cast curses, and absorb the life force of Arcturus - strangling it out of him with his razor sharp fingers. He did this several times, and endured multiple hits from the party members in the process, but eventually he was outmatched, and buckled under their combined strength and determination. The killing blow came from Arcturus, who pushed the entire length of the Dragon Lance through his corrupted flesh. With the other hand he grabbed Osamorté's face, and watched the light leave his eyes. As he dies, the rest of his body detaches itself, leaving the head in Arcturus' hand. His body starts to disintegrate in a cloud of red vapor, and before long his bones and flesh have turned into ash. The golden skull rolls away from his ashes undamaged...it's sits there expectantly, shining brighter than ever - the Skull of Envy.

Seeing that their master has died, the remaining Afflicted acolytes surrender, and many of them seem to show fear and regret for the first time. During the battle, one of the acolytes had been launched across the room by the Dragon Slayer, and his impact had shattered the statue of the deity. The rubble had fallen onto the small cloaked figure that had been hiding behind the Throne of Bones. He could see that the figure was pinned by the rubble, but hadn't been killed. When Arcturus went up to them, he saw the pale, blood-spattered face of a young girl beneath the hood. She cried and begged for Arcturus and the others to help. At this stage, Hel, Seltyiel and Cynthia recognized her face. The little girl was Severine - whom they had helped escape the Hell-Knight Bastion a few days previously. Arcturus resorted to using his Paladin healing abilities. He didn't know what he had done until it was too late. When he touched her with the Lay on Hands spell, she screamed in agony, and burst into flames before finally perishing. Unbeknownst to them all, she had been corrupted with undeath by Osamorté. For all positive healing magic's benefits to living things...against an undead creature, it has the exact opposite effect.