-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* Whirlpool's Room of Doom *>-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

A floating, bald head says, "WELCOME TO YOUR DOOM!"

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Karelin Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred. 46s 1h

Chandrakanta Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades. 2s 5h

Xander Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage. 0s 25m

Svarshan Darkly scaled layman of the Daeusite faith 41s 3h

Whirlpool 0s 1d

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Out <O>

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OH NO.

Prince Verin storms up to the lot of you, having called for the best men available and on hand. And women, of course, too. One can never forget the fairer sex. He makes his way up to you, all four of you, and stops.

"My seers tell me we will need our best men to find out what's going on in here. That's going to be your job today," he says, simply, brushing his hands off, "Ascertain the situation. Only engage if you absolutely must. Your primary goal is to discover what's going on and then get out alive. If there are survivors, we will need to know how many and where. If you can get any out without too great a risk to the information you have, do so. Once you've learned everything you feel you can, return to us and make a report. After that, we'll know what we're looking at and what steps we need to take next. We'll be sending in another two groups in addition to your own for a full picture, and then we'll roll the army in. If there's no survivors, we purge the place with fire to destroy whatever evil has caused this once and for all. I understand that paladins present have sensed a great evil lurking within," a nod towards Svarshan and Chandra too. Did he just call her a paladin? He totally did, "so be careful. I've moved people into position, so we'll be ready to launch an agressive operation as quickly as needed to secure any survivors."

Its a good thing Chandra's mother sat her down and had a talk about not correcting members of the Royal Family. She does bristle, she asides to the others, "If he had said that to Mayhem she would have whacked him one." Nodding about the evil, "It pretty much made me lose my lunch when I looked down there, the evil pours off that town. Part of me hopes that there are no survivors so we can just burn the place down."

"I fear, my liege, only one of us is an expert when it comes to stealth." Xander says matter-of factly, nodding to indicate the group. Can you guess which one it is?! "We will likely need considerable magical aid to remain unnoticed, should there be something lurking in the shadows of that place." Which he doesn't doubt there is, it looks like, judging by the tone of his voice. "Have magi in your service not attempted to scout using magical means?" he inquires, politely, of the prince, folding his hands behind his back.

Stove-in-a-box. Marvelous things. Warm things to have your hands around, and Svar has his hands around one. It glows with a cherry light against the cold atmosphere, and he blows on it occasionally as he listens to the prince. "I hope we'll find someone. But one fears if we do, they'll be halfway out of their mind." The tail flickers slowly.

Karelin trots forward, checking his swordhilt. He cracks his neck from side to side, and nods to Svarshan. "If." Gauntlets creak. "Scout-and-report."

"In so far as they are able to, yes," says Verin to Xander, plainly, "And I trust you're up to the job of ensuring you remain unnoticed. You have time to prepare. We've got a lot of equipment to move into place to raze the town. In addition," he adds, "there is one more small problem." He seems a little aggrivated about it and then gestures to one of his men, a plain grunt soldier who looks very nervous about being here and who unfurls a recently made, hand-drawn map that shows he has some talent for mapmaking, but its a hasty affair. Carmina'd probably be swooning over him, though. The town actually straddles the river, a bridge running going across it linking the sides. It's one of the things that makes it a hub.

"There's a museum here, my liege, sirs and madame, containing a large quantity of precious artifacts. When Sendor was invaded, most of them were secreted into a vault beneath it. It's possible that the 'gunners missed it when they looted the town. If you can make it to the museum and check it out, we might be able to organize a mission to retrieve the artifacts before the town is levelled. In addition, there's a temple of Daeus here that's three centuries old. If there's *anywhere* where you might be safe, the wards on the temple may have served to keep the evil out --,"

"Or," says Verin, interrupting, "drawing it in. It's entirely possible that, out of their inborn senses of perversity, such a temple would've drawn those with malicious intent towards it to corrupt its grounds. Either way, it's a building of historic value and I don't have to tell you what that means. Examine both, remain as undetected as you can, and come back to us in one piece."

Pause, pause. "And rescue." The words are firm and sad. "Where there is light, let there be hope." Svar blows gently on the portable stove. A small area of warmth grows in the area immediate. Inside, a number of slowly burning, warm coals. On his belt, a number of scrolls, hastily writ by whatever divine energy lay within the camp. And Verin's words--draw a fiercely dark scowl.

Karelin nods. "And scout some more." He peers at the map, considering the museum. "We should find this. If we can." His lips twist. "After all, no mission is simple."

Roland has arrived.

So.

Everyone has had a chance to prepare. Preperatory spells are being used and it has just gotten very quiet. Everyone is set to head into Versis proper, as you're just outside of town. That is, of course, when Roland will show up.

Svar downs the potion--it tastes as ichor going down, and he wipes it from his muzzle with the side of his mouth. A prayer to Daeus--and another light fades into place, and another, layering the paladin with a series of light prayers. Which of course, make him slightly shiny. It's a paladin-thing.

Preparations in the camp are going as planned. Xander has just unfurled the expensive scroll the group has procured. He has been going through it well enough for a while, enlisting Chandra's aid for some of the sections, the two of them making an odd magical duet in the chanting. Then, he pauses, and peers at it. The scroll is displayed to Chandra, a section of it pointed out. "We shall... skip this." he says, decisively.

Yes, it DOES say "Merrily intone 'La la la'."

Eventually, the spell is woven, and silence descends upon the group.

And then there's a bard.

And Xander curses. But the bard can't hear him. Probably a good thing.

"I agree." Apparently there is singing involved in the scroll reading that neither Xander or Chandrakanta are going to do. "Let us skip that." The Veyshanti reads her parts of the scroll as she's instructed to do. Its really strange to see her getting along and working cooperatively with Xander, but rarer things have happened. She only looks up as Xander curses, "Master Blackrose, he wasn't briefing."

Karelin turns the potion over in his hand, as he waits to move out. He exhales a breath. "Are we ready?"

Svar passes a thumb along the side of his muzzle. Concealing a smile, maybe. "Ready," he confirms.

Xander, shaking his head, waves Roland over into the confines of the zone's effects, as the bard is no doubt accompanied by someone who will bark that the Prince has decided he is coming along. "Do not remove yourselves from my vicinity, else the veil will fade. Conceal your auras, hide yourselves from the dead. I will perform a handful more spells, and then we shall be ready." The first of these is a veil of invisibility over the group. The second is sight into the invisible, yes. Another, to shield himself from attack. The last preparation is the imbibing of the potions supplied. And then, then he nods. Ready indeed.

Roland makes a one legged hop from a tent. The puzzled looks of some Myrrish soldiers perhaps indicating that not only was it not the bard's abode, but their lack of awareness of the recent activity. The image is only stranger in that Roland is busy pulling a furred boot back on. He frowns as he tilts his head, watching Xander's mouth move but not hearing anything so he moves over to join the group, nodding slowly with an 'Ahh...' once he's near, "Should we go in two groups? You take one branch and I another?"

"We should stay together as much as we can.." Rarer words have been said by Chandra, "Make our way to the temple, if we need to we can split off then to deal with looking at the museum." She doesn't sound like her mind will be changed as she downs the pair of nasty tasting potions.

"If there are survivors, they will only slow us down. Perhaps we should--" Xander begins. He glances at Chandra. At Darshan. At Chandra again. He looks just about ready to facepalm, but subdues the urge, with a little 'Don't Come Running To Me When It Turns Out I'm Right' look, for good measure. But he goes, yes. He has to. He's the bearer of all the stealth-giving spells.

Karelin looks at Chandra like he wants to ask if she's feeling okay, but he doesn't. Instead, he keeps moving, hand on his sword, eyes up and scanning.

"If there's any chance, we owe it to them. Xander, they could be being tortured right now." Darshan returns the look with a firm one of his own, pauses, and leans forward to sniff the air. Daeus' blessing settles lightly on his shoulders, and he looks ready to move ahead.

Paladins. Liberators. They're always a pain in the butt, aren't they? When it comes to efficiency, well, they're not your best friends in this sort of situation.

So, you set off into the town under *tons* of protective spells. Because protective spells are your friends.

Versis is empty. It truly is. As you make your way into its borders, the farmland gives way to cobbled streets and quaint, rustic buildings. All is silent. Deathly so. There is no life here. There's not even rats running across the street. The stink of manure still clings to the city streets from the horses, but its stale and old. Signs sway in the wind. It's the ambient sounds of the city that lead to a deepening feeling of unease. All those sounds that one *doesn't* hear under the din of people living their respective lives. The mana lamps look like they still work in these early hours, anyways, and the chill wind leaves a bitter feeling in all of you.

Strangely, though, the snow doesn't appear to have clung to Versis like it did the lands outside of it. Now that one has a chance to get close up, the streets *are* clear of it. The rooftops have it, sure, and it clings to some of the buildings as snow and ice is wont to do, but aside from that, the streets *are* clear. Unusually so.

Svarshan eyes those streets. He eyes the buildings, too, and--shakes his head, as he looks at the rest of them. Not a thing, that gesture says. The frill along his head lowers in perplexion, and he leans out to take another look as they move.

Chandrakanta walks along with crossbow readied, her nose wrinkling distastefully as the enter the town. "This is strange." She whispers, glancing to Darshan for some indication its anything present besides that vast pit in the stomach sort of evil that had her throwing up the scant rations on the march to the outskirts of Versis. "Anything?" She asks.

Roland lightly fingers his bow as he looks about, quietly pivoting as he walks. A frown of puzzlement on his lips as he takes in the intense evil of...streetsweepers?

The sith'makar continues to shake his head.

Karelin scowls. "This is... odd." He shakes his head, and keeps scanning. Scanning.

Svarshan pauses, after a moment longer and--points to one of the puddles. "No undead," he says wryly, "But...puddles. Chandra, one is...going to try the banesight. This may hurt." And it may. He drops his tail to the ground and forms a sort of tripod with it. Perhaps it'll help if he suddenly topples over.

"The city is clearly empty... uninhabited. And yet, it does not appear so, outwardly. Curious. Look for signs of disturbance - signs something may have happened, a fight breaking out, perhaps." Xander says as they stalk. He is looking around himself, yes, as he follows along with the group's lead. And then stops dead at Darshan's announcement, suppressing a groan. A hand is placed on the lizardman's shoulder, to stop him from falling out of the silencing magic's grasp should he lose consciousness.

"Be careful, Brother." Chandra shows some concern as Darshan tries to focus on the evil inside the city. She keeps tracking her eyes around, looking for any signs of life that should exist in the city.

"One--" and then it's suddenly good that Xander had his hand there. The paladin starts to shake, and--his eyes roll up in his head. The tail only does so much before he starts to fall, but at least the mage has the chance to catch him.

Roland looks back and groans as he notices the lizardman, stepping so as to help with the fall as well as to give a little extra room to silence the paladin's fall...One might think he has experience dealing with Holy Clankers or something.

Tiiiiimbeeeeeeeer! Xander hauls hard on Darshan, causing the unfortunate lizardman to collapse the OTHER way, inside the protective grasp of the stealth magic, so he does not unintentionally alert something to their presence with the horrid noise of his fall. The warmage kneels down, then, eyeing the paladin with just a bit of concern. He'll wake up soon. Probably.

And so, Xander's greeted with a grunt and something that sounds like a...well. One of those terrible, awful sounds as the sith'makar grabs the ground underneath him in the start of hauling himself back to his feet. And doesn't say a--no. Just...blink, focus on getting back up. Focus on standing. That's exactly what he does do. That...

...hurt.

It'll take a little time for Svarshan to recover from the horribleness of horrible evil which he just experiences.

The cathedral is still a ways off, but you're beginning to see it in the distance. It's one of the tallest buildings in Versis, actually, so it's a little hard to miss. It actually *does* stand out for its great architecture, too, spires reaching towards the sky and a great, golden sunburst stylized dome upon its top, showing its dedication to Daeus.

And the area is *still* quiet. You can hear the tinkling of wind chimes and droplets of water hitting the cobblestone. A different odour begins to reach your nose, though. A bit like charcoal.

"Is something burning.." Chandra asks as she sniffs about. She glances back to make sure Darshan seems alert. After all a fall like that could lead to a concussion.

Karelin moves with the group, "No. Something was burnt." He gestures at a wall. "See the burn marks. Intense heat, but too brief to light the building." A pause. "That would have to be incredibly hot." There's a reflective pause. "Even when those munitions exploded, I was on fire afterwards."

Roland frowns and turns to where Karelin points, "Where? Some sort of firey flash perhaps?" He asks, turning his head to Mr Fireball, aka Xander.

"Like that field?" Chandra questions.

Karelin looks down, frowning. "And here. There was something here. And only the corners were on fire." He points. "How odd." A glance at Chandra. "This whole town is like that."

Svarshan licks his muzzle, and winces at whatever pain that action caused. He lowers his visor. "I think it's found a home," he says roughly. Angry. And still hurting, apparently. "...give me a...moment. I have something to protect some of us from the fire," he pauses. "But I only have three."

"Be on your guard." Xander says, tensing up a bit himself. He glances where Karelin is pointing. "It may have been a fire-based spell, but which, I do not know. Look - the scorchmarks are evenly spread. A pattern. Let us circumvent this area. I dare not step into what those marks encircle." In case anyone was stupid enough to do that.

Karelin nods once. "Let's get to the temple." He draws his sword, just in case. And avoids the marks.

Svar makes a noise of agreement (head still hurts) and palms the scrolls. Unrolls them. "One intends it," he says thickly. And proceeds to do the scroll thing.

A palpable feeling of wrongness begins to fill the air as you close in on the Cathedral. Indeed, you finally reach the cathedral grounds and one can see clearly that the wards did not hold.

The Cathedral itself is surrounded by a wrought iron fence that's only about four feet in height. Easy enough to scurry over should you want to. It's great doors lay open slightly, but the steps leading up the path to it are brown. Dried blood covers them. The burning smell now fills your nostrils more fully, but it is all still deathly silent.

Statues of Daeus, great golden icons that lined the courtyard, have been toppled and defaced, covered in blood and some sort of strange, orangeish ichor.

Chandrakanta doubles her watchfulness, for both the burnt shape in the ground and for life as they move. Stopping dead in her tracks as she see the temple, frowning. Daeus may not be her patron, but she is friend with many who follow him. "I am sorry, Darshan." She whispers.

Svarshan eyes the statues. He takes a shuddering breath, and his hands open and close. Close and open. And another. "Xander. There's another scroll in that pouch I lent you," he pauses. "You have about three seconds before I rush up those steps. I'm not...asking you to come. He is not your god. But HE IS MINE."

"I doubt we will find many survivors, here, paladin." Xander says, mildly, after having a look at the temple's state. His eyes narrow, narrow, at the orange ichor. Clearly, he does not like this. At all. "The damage has been done. As the Prince suspected, whatever evil came here made this its primary target. We should move on. Use your brain - focus on our goal, to find survivors. There may be those with sense hiding in the museum's vaults." the unfortunate mage tries to reason with the silly damn paladins.

"We have to check, we can not just walk by this.." Chandra doesn't even have words for the desecration of the Daeus temple. "If someone did this to the sacred place of Averium or Kor or whoever you worship Blackrose, you would not just walk by.." She puts down the crossbow she's been clutching and pulls her rapier. The cold glow emanating from it, "I have your back, Darshan." She lets the Sith know she will follow him on the fools errand.

"And WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED TO THE TOWNSPEOPLE?" the words roar against the limits of the silence spell. And, 3, 2, 1...he's an aged paladin. He managed to hold it in. For three seconds. Three. "There--" a shove of hand towards the red, the dried and darkened blood. "And there! That's what remains of them, on Daeus' front doors. Xander, they used the townsfolk to DESECRATE THE TEMPLE." And then. And then he's breathing hard, and he looks at Chandra with wild eyes, and licks his muzzle. "General's Daughter," he says roughly. "Will you lead?"

Karelin blows out a breath, snarling. "We need to witness and report. And report carefully. That is first."

Roland stands there, oddly quiet given his role as well professional noise maker. There's a slow, solemn nod towards Svarshan and Chandra as he turns away from the door, keeping the bow ready as he glances over his shoulder, ready to watch their backs as he's already assumed they're not stopping on the steps.

"Then we will report what we see, Korite, inside the temple." Chandra snaps. Her lips tighten and she begins to take steps outside the quiet circle, efforts to conceal their presence in the township be damned.

"We were told, explicitly, not to engage." Xander reiterates calmly, weathering the storm of Darshan's unreasonable... paladin-ness. "I do not ask you to walk away and forget this. I ask that we adhere to our task here. There is a time and a place for everything, and I do not believe this to be the right time to bellow for Evil to show itself and challenge it to a duel. Vengeance can wait. There may be lives yet to save." A shake of his head. "Bravery and foolishness are separated by a thin line. Quell your passions. We can attempt to explore the temple, and I shall accompany you - but if you see a servant of evil there, I ask that you suppress the urge to leap at them immediatelly bellowing battlecries."

Daeusite! Form ranks! Svar does, behind the Averite and drawing blade. And Xander's words are met with an echoing snarl of fang and teeth. "They are DEAD." He isn't going to be reasonable. "And when is a better time, Xander? We will look. ...we will look." Convince yourself of it. Ache for the blade, for war.

You're just 'looking.' Right?

"There is no promise that they are waiting for us inside.." Chandra tries not to make that sound disappointing as she begins the careful march towards the temple, "the priests may want to know the sort of atrocities so they can prepare the right spells to save this place."

And further in you go.

The cathedral is huge, for the town. It might not compare to the one in Alexandria in terms of sheer size, but for a town that's *this* big, it's very large, and old. Stained glass windows and murals with images of the deeds of heroes who fought in Daeus' name line the walls, but they too are covered in soot and smeared with dried blood as you make your way through the opened doors. After making your way through the entry chamber, you're able to make your way into the Cathedral's proper hall and the room with the Altar.

If the devestation was bad enough on the outside, it's even worse here. Pews have been overturned, some have been burnt. Scorch marks line the floor. Papers litter it as well, torn from ancient tracts of the cathedral's library. It truly is the sight of an orgy of destruction and vandalism. Worse still, the altar has been overturned. Droplets of blood rain down from the ceiling, where attached to the chandalier lighting the room above, is an eviscerated human body, entrails hanging out of it, only barely held in.

More scorch marks line the steps to the bady damaged altar, which seems to have been set ablaze as well. Several skulls have been left on it, also burnt.

One of the murals has been radically altered. Where once it was a sign of battle, an angelic host, now it is a horde of demons, watching over as men are marched through what appears to be a gate.

They're telling you what they did. What they did to the townspeople. The gate is full of flames.

Karelin nods. "We should find out." He keeps the swordtip raised, scowling t the murals. He spits. "Fucking ogres."

This may be the most disturbing sight that Chandra has seen since the fall of the ziggurat in Blar. She looks around, reluctant to touch anything inside the church. She closes her eyes, a tear escaping down her cheek. "This .. should not have happened." She looks up at the bleeding chandalier, "Its still bleeding, they couldn't have done this that long ago.."

War. War is sweet and war is good as it flows over the temple steps. War is RIGHTEOUS in the swift vengeance of the blade upon the Desecrater, lovely in the hymn of the Desecrater's blood, in the sing of the lifeforce as it flows from its veins. The tail lashes and moves serpentine, and Svar halts, shaking his head. He's having a Korite moment. But damn if... Damn if it...

He hauls in a breath, another of the putrid stench of blasphemy, and steadies his vision on the altar itself. "This was an old temple. It served many people. Healed them, saw to them. It oversaw the joinings of everyone in this town, it blessed their children," he finds himself saying. Shakes himself. And the air's thick with the blood of those children. His voice is shaking when he asks: "Can someone get him down? He doesn't...deserve to be left up there." The paladin looks up at the hanging body. And past the skulls upon the altar, which make his stomach lurch, his head reel.

Roland frowns, "Fuck! I'M not sure if I'm hoping that means they were enslaved to some hell or to the land of flames. Neither choice is pleasant.." he turns to Xander, "..To open a gate such as this, to bring forth the number of demons...Is there anything about this town that you can think of that would call to such monstrous..." There's a shake of the head, "...This is worse than that mad gnoll's desecrations in order to bend the ley lines."

"The... depiction seems to claim the townsfolk were taken by demons to their home plane." Xander says, after a moment of peering at the modified mural. A nod at Darshan's suggestion, too, of getting the eviscerated corpse down. "We should take the body with us. Consecrate it, bury it with honors. But not before asking it to confirm what happened here. The shell remembers. The blessed amongst the clergy can speak to it." Hey, they need someone, SOMETHING, to confirm the mural isn't lying.

"...if get him down, magus. I'll carry him home," Svar looks up at the man. Woman? hanging from the ceiling. It's not exactly an enviable task.

"We can use one of the benches to make a stretcher for the body." Chandra proposes a method to carry the body. She keeps looking up at the body, "I can get up there and take him down." She begins to take off anything that might encumber the process. Her heavy winter coat, "We can wrap the body in my coat."

Karelin nods. "Carry them. And they can provide answers." A gesture to Xander. "In that manner."

"I shall fly up and fetch it. Stay on guard." Xander says. A spell is intoned, and unless stopped, the mage gently lifts off the ground, into the air. Thankfully, Roland can still see him, at least. A glance, to see how to best remove the corpse from its resting place without disturbing things TOO much.

Svar looks over at the Liberator, gratefully, then up and up as Xander suddenly takes off. He lurches forward to grab hold of the mage--and finds his claws grasping thin air, instead. "...Xander. ...they may have done something to him." He pauses. "Come back down. Let me go up with you."

Actually, Darshan will likely find his claws ruining Xander's pants. The mage eyes him for a moment, and then sets down again, patiently waiting for the paladin to do his thing. "I certainly will not begrudge the help." he says.

Svar growls something in return. He manages a set of words, which may be counted as remarkable, given where they're at. And drowns a potion and then--it's Hover Time. He goes up with the mage.

Chandrakanta doesn't seem displeased not to be helping getting the body off the chandelier, "If this happened recently, then there is still a chance they did not get everyone." She glares at the mural. She busies herself trying to find a good plank of wood to use for the stretcher. "We may find survivors in the museum or along the way."

So. Mage and paladin work to unhook Drippy the Corpse from the metal of the chandelier. It's messy, disgusting work. Xander doesn't seem to enjoy it very much, and does his best to have the corpse keep various bits of it to itself. Once separated from the chandelier, the rest is easy. He leaves Darshan to do the gruntwork.

Which he does do. The grunt work that is. Svar shoulders Drippy, and floats back down. The corpse oozes all over his armor, but--he doesn't seem to mind. He looks more angry than anything else. "No one touch this. We don't know what they may have--done to him." Her. It.

The jaw of the poor, slaughtered villager? Falls open as the others touch down. A small, red orb falls out of his mouth.

"Beware," says a whispered voice coming from his throat, "the vrorag."

And then? That little orb?

It explodes. With fire.

Karelin watches the body removal, before poking over by the altar, checking it out for specific signs....

Crispy fried lizardcritters. Darshan flies through the air to land in a set of skulls...one lands on his shoulder like a grinning, second head. He's dazed there, and leans forward slowly, eventually, to grasp at what must by now be a pounding headache. He's covered in black soot--at the least. Now the armor matches the color of his scale. The corpse was a decorator. Who knew?

Xander dives, stylishly, the flames washing over him, abovehead. He is singed by them, yes, but not nearly as badly as some of the others. "I guess I should have expected that." he mutters, picking himself up. "Vrorag. Hrm. There were whispers of them..." he mumbles, a shake of his head. "Let's move. If any of them remain here, eventually they will notice it missing." The corpse. They need to get moving with the ghastly thing.

Karelin is a little caught up, and catches the blast full on. He picks himself up, and scowls. "The altar might have been the gate. There's a beastman-sized handprint here."

Roland can't hear what goes on between Xander and Svarshan, much less the corpse's warning but the falling drop of read is far too familiar as the bard throws his arms up to shield his eyes, "Fuuck!" as the flames Voosh up to envelop them. He lowers his arms gingerly and starts to sing, reaching for the soothing touch of the mana-sea to ease the burns...

Sound. Behind you.

Doors.

The doors the place are opening. A long, long shadow is cast on you as you regather yourselves. A great beast of a creature begins stepping into the cathedral, cloven hooves clopping against the stone floor. A great club is held across its shoulder. It looks a bit like a man, leonine in appearance. Huge. Muscled. *HUgely* muscled. It's lower half is that of some sort of beast, built like a bull. It's upper half is red skinned, great tusks coming from its mouth.

It's sniffing. And from the sounds of it, it is not alone.

Chandrakanta turns to back off from the heat of the flame, it just gives her a little needed warmth. As she moves she notices the doors swing open. Her reaction is to crouch. Thankfully they are still invisible and silent close to the bard.

Svar doesn't stand to his feet so much as roll. He makes it to one leg, to the other--and then stops to stare up at the creature bursting through the door. His aches and pains vanish as Roland begins his silent tribute to the Fire Goddess, and rage replaces it. Angry, burning rage. It DOES NOT BELONG here.

Roland looks to the door and blinks, "Maugrim's mad balls! Vroreg indeed...Careful wizard, these things are extremely resilient against spellsong and attacks arcane and shrug off flames and cold alike with little regard. Plus, they hit like hell."

"Do NOT engage this beast if you do not have to. It is extremely powerful, and it is not alone, by the sound of it." Xander whispers to his companions. "Calm. I know you've the urge to attack, but there is high probability all it would do is force us into a retreat as word spreads we are here - and we would not be able to search more of the town." he explains, calmly, to his more... divinely-inclined companions. Of course, it IS blocking the door. And it WILL notice the corpse missing. And... well. It's bad.

Karelin looks up, pointing the tip of his sword at it. "No doubt. As are we." Extremely powerful and not alone. "And we will survive to report back."

Svar bears his teeth. A sith'makar's gesture, an angry one. It speaks volumes where words do not, and he stays where he is, stays, the frill up and brilliant, flushed a warning blood-red. Flushed in anger. It. Is. In. Daeus'. TEMPLE.

Roland just closes his eyes momentarily, perhaps recognizing the trend of how well the mage has been listened to tonight -- Instead the bard trusts in his spell of silence and steps behind Karelin and the holy warriors before beginning to hum...

Sniff. Sniff.

The Vroreg seems to not know you're here at, but its sense of smell is obviously keen. It's sniffing you out. Slowly, advancing one slow step at a time.

It is joined by another one slinking through the door. Well, not slinking. These things don't slink.

"They are obviously still looking for survivors.." Chandra takes this as a good sign that something came in to look around. "Maybe they will lead us to them if they don't discover us.." She's obviously having a hard time resisting the urge to go after them, the way she is gripping her rapier.

"Likely, the trap they set upon the corpse alerted them to our presence. Prepare for battle. We will escape if we can, but if we cannot..." It's probably just what the paladins want to hear, those words from Xander. He begins preparation, himself - a spell is intoned, carefully observing the beasts.

The two of them begin sniffing around, slowly, but given that they can *smell* you, and not see you, they begin to back off towards the door. Slowly.

Svar lowers the frill--not a conscious thought, but it lowers, flares up again. He moves backwards, hefting...something. A piece of paper he holds up towards the bard. "Can you read that?" he asks him. "One...I would be obliged if you could." Pause. "They're cutting off our exit."

Roland takes the paper, squinting at it in confusion briefly before pushing it towards the wizard without interrupting the hummed tune...

Chandrakanta fiddles with the pouch on her belt, she seems to be debating something. She pulls a bottle and drinks it down, "We aren't going to get out of here without putting them down.."

Whirlpool dropped Whirlpool's Timestop.

ATTENTION!!!

Whirlpool has dropped a Timestop. Please cease all roleplay immediately and wait for Whirlpool to instruct you further. To look at the commands for the timestop, please type: +lhelp timestop.

Do not use any commands until the DM says it is all right to do so.

Karelin looks from side to side. "Let's open the wa, then." He blurs into motion, running forwards -at- the crazy gigantic vrorags, scything his sword across one thick foreleg.

It just takes one to start the dance. Chandra goes after Karelin. The rapier is true, slicing deeply into the flesh of the hooved creature.

"You dare stand here in Daeus' House? You DARE?!" and roaring, incoherent, the paladin draws blade--appears to fumble, but by some guidance it strikes true, pummeling into the side of one of the creatures. It hits despite his anger, or because of it.

Roland waves his hands as he sings a little song, for an audience of one as spells both hide him from view and muffle his sounds, still the song reaches into the mana sea to help speed along the group.

Karelin just *butchers* the vrorag in his fury, removing both thick forelegs at the knee, becaose opening the neck up and splitting the torso through the breastbone. A -shocking- amount of blood is spilled, making the temple floor suddenly slick with gore. Daeus may not -appreciate- blood sacrifices, but beggars can't be choosers, right?

The blood makes for a less then graceful roll, but Chandra makes it. Standing quickly and giving the other Vroreg at deep slice from the rapier along its flank.

Xander nods at Roland, hopping up into the air easily, the ethereal outlines of wings the flight spell gifts him with doing a lazy downstroke. The mage's hands glow, and the orb of churning acid forms, sent zipping with speed to splatter on the lower, bull-like half of the monstrosity. It wounds it greatly, and he knows Karelin's strike is there for the kill. The mage - mages, as there's NINE of him - turns his attention to the other one, now.

Whirlpool has cleared initiatives.

Svar brings the blade around. Blood is sweet. Blood is GOOD. WAR sings in his veins and it pours into the demon, the angry movement cutting deep and down and across, severing the creature and sending it sliding, tumbling down onto the ground. He follows with teeth, and they close on air, leaving him angry and ragged. Lifting a piece of the demon's flesh and throwing it, "You DARE!"

All goes silent again with the last drops of the vroreg hitting the ground.

A moment later? They both explode into flames, their corpses destructing and turning to ash smears on the ground.

But now? You hear *sounds*. Heavy thuds. Footfalls occasionally landing. A distant 'CRACK' sound.

"Shit.." Chandra steps back from the now burning corpses. "We need to get out of here.." She definitely hears the sound of more coming their way.

Roland blinks as he the Vroreg fall. Despite his familiarity with Karelin and crew...the ease at which these fiends of his nightmares have been dispatched. And then the sound booms from away, given he's still invisible he starts toward the door pausing just long enough to turn making sure he has Xander's attention before he points to himself, then lifts a hand to his eyes and pans his gaze about before pointing outside the door... Even if scouting might not be absolutely necessary to know Big Trouble is on it's way

"Time to go." Xander says, and it's decisive. "Bring the veil of invisibility up on us once again, minstrel." he asks, falling into step with Roland so that he may hear him, landing. "We must avoid further confrontation. Quickly, now." Others are waved at... gather for the spell, gather, leaving. Now.

Karelin nods once, curtly. "Let's go." He gathers. Quickly.

Svar rubs a hand across his muzzle, looks that way. "We need to report," he agrees. And shakes. And the demon's down, and at their feet. And he...looks better, but he's shaking. And then it's time to go.

Well, then.

To get to the museum, you're going to have to run for the bridge. The bridge, at least, is still up. You make your way across it quickly and leave the sounds behind, for now, but it's clear that the town definitely had 'bad things' in it. Mr. Crispy makes life more difficult. For one, the smell is enough to make anyone want to lose their lunch, even battle hardened adventurers.

Chandrakanta falls into the front of the line, leading the way, and getting a little distance between herself and the stinky corpse that they have to lug through the town. Over the bridge and to the.. museum, no, its not quite grandmother's house. And those weren't the big bad wolf, they were much worse.

Xander's had his cloak across his mouth and nose for a while now, yes. Crispy bacon is one thing - crispy human another entirely, even if the meat itself is similar in build. He keeps the group moving swiftly. They are sort of running out of time.

"Smells like trog," mutter mutter. Svarshan carries Crispy, with the corpse no longer oozing on him. Instead, it's been replaced by a wondrous stench. A burning, sulphurious stench mixed in with the decay of...alright. No need to go there. But it smells.

Worse, it smells like TROG.

Karelin scowls, wrapping his mouth. No need to puke on the corpse. He moves, staying close to Roland.

Roland just tries not to breathe quite so much given the proximity to the smell. Casting worried glances over his shoulders towards the presumed direction of the previous booms.

With the help of the generously donated map, you're able to get across the bridge and slip through the narrow town streets to the museum.

The museum itself is still in tact and you're able to slip inside. The doors are open and unlocked and all appears silent here.

The shelves and display cases all appear to be empty. This structure doesn't appear to have any obvious signs of the vault that was described by the soldier you spoke to earlier after a cursory examination, which means it must be concealed somehow.

As the smell moves through the air, Svar clamps down on the two holes at the end of his muzzle. They water, his eyes water, and he all but screws the latter shut. Crispy bounce-splorches against his shoulder. The hand had gotten loose sometime during the running, and had kept slapping him in the face.

"Let us quickly find the vault the soldier spoke of, gather anything we can find from it, and be away from here." Xander says, likely echoing the minds of every each one of his companions. He himself has good eyes and could probably suggest several good, methodical search methods.

"Once more too easy," Chandra nods as Xander speaks, she's already on the hunt for the vault or signs of it with her eyes.

Svarshan rearranges the hand--so it isn't smacking him in the face. "I'll hold him," he says quietly. And juggles the corpse around. He's going to smell, after this. He's going to smell TERRIBLY.

Karelin just tries to be quiet, at this point. Poking around as besthe can.

It takes some time, but eventually in the back of one of the rooms, way in the corner Chandra narrows in on a trap door. "Think this is it?"

Karelin nods slowly. "Why else hide it?" He pauses, looks at Svarshan. "Will we be lucky?"

"It may just be. Let's find out." Xander suggests. It's there. It's the only thing they found. It's possible? He waits, then. For the musclemen to open it, clearly, just in case something horrible leaps out of it.

"One hopes," still holding his breath. The corpse continues to stink. He pauses, though, and looks at Karelin. "I agree, though. I think this is too easy."

Roland turns around, a broken picture frame in his hand, "What are you talking about?"

Svar shifts the corpse in his arms. "Chandrakanta found the..." he steps back with their soon-to-be-precious-but-now-horribly-putrid cargo. "...doorway."

"Trap door, Roland." Karelin waits, sword at the ready.

Chandrakanta runs her hand along the edge of the door until she finds the latch. Lifting it to reveal....

--------------- At a glance around Whirlpool's Room of Doom ----------------

Roland 2m 6'3" 220 Lb Human Male

6'3" charismatic man with auburn curls and hazel eyes.

Svarshan 0s 6'4" 274 Lb Sith'makar Male

Darkly scaled layman of the Daeusite faith

Xander 25s 6'1" 184 Lb

Tall, handsome, goatee-wearing human mage.

Karelin 4m 6'2" 232 Lb Human Male

Tattooed Korite warrior. Tall, dark and scarred.

Chandrakanta 1m 5'6" 140 Lb Human/Veyshanti Gurl

Dredlocked Veyshanti Averite with ink and blades.

Whirlpool 2m Lb

==============================================================================

...stairs. Just a set of stairs.

That you have to go down.

At least they aren't trapped, though, as far as you can tell on your way. You're now in a concealed bsaement storage. There are boxes everywhere, in all directions, and more than one room. Exploration eventually leads you to *another* trapdoor with another set of stairs beneath it. And from there, you finally reach what must be the entryway to the vault, largely obvious because of the field of energy that blocks your path. You ran right into it, actually, given you can't actually *see* it. Thunk. Wall of force.

Svar closes the door behind them. Lest they're followed. "We're sure huhhrmmm...no one's behind us?" he looks at Chandrakanta, and then--Crispy gurgles again, and he has to shift him about. Damn corpse.

Karelin stops dead, then steps back. He's seen them before, and he just backs off.

Chandrakanta makes contact with the wall of force, half bouncing back. "I think this is it.." She looks to the casters, "Can this be taken care of?"

Ah, ah, but Walls of Force are invisible! So Xander stops before it and watches the others faceplant into it. Because he can see it, and they can't. Ha ha. Ha. "I can make the attempt, and so can the minstrel. What I fear is that we may need it to return." He waits, for a moment, to allow Roland's attempt at the spell's removal, first.

Roland slows up as people bounce back, then frowning as he notices the slight shimmering with his enhanced vision before attempting to sing it away...Sadly when he attempts to saunter forward with a step, he finds himself promptly danced back..

"Allow me." Xander says to Roland, stepping forward. He extends his hands before him, curling the fingers, facing them outwards. Words of the arcane are chanted, and he pulls to the sides, as if shredding, with calculated precision, a tapestry. And shred it does before him, parting, collapsing into a pile of sparks. "Let's go, quickly. It may return." he notifies. Onwards, onwards!

Karelin moves onwards, swiftly now.

And so, Svar picks up Mr. Crispy, and holding hands, they skip past the shattered wall, and into the cave beyond! ...well. He carries Mr. Crispy, anyhow. And Mr. Crispy, well. He still stinks.

Chandrakanta is quick to go through the threshold now that nothing blocks the way. She's thankful not to be carrying the crispy one, occasionally glancing back when the corpse makes some noise.

Roland exhales a thankful nod to Xandar and falls in line.

And that's when you encounter someone.

A man, actually, just coming towrds the entryway you've pushed through. He gasps, eyes going wide and he leaps back. "Stay back! Stay back! I have a gun!" Not that a gun is going to do much against the people who dispelled the wall of force.

He looks ragged. And he smells nearly as bad as Mr. Crispy.

"We are from Alexandria.. we are here to rescue you." Chandra speaks up, hopefully those are the right words to get the man to stop threatening them with the gun.

Karelin doesn't say anything more. HE doesn't point the sword at the man, though.

Pause, pause. Relief floods the paladin, and he nearly sags. "Thank the blessed host," he breathes. "...we aren't here to harm you. By the Word of Daeus, listen to her. We're not here to harm you." The tail settles, and gods. It's just good. To find someone alive.

Roland lifts his hands and starts, "Easy ..." and then he not only remembers that the gunman not only can't hear him but then Chandra's speaking as well.

Xander gives the holyfolk the I Told You So glance. Listen to the mage. The mage is smart! "Worry not, friend. We're with the Myrrish. This cursed place will be cleansed or undone, and we are here to get you, and the artifacts, if any, out before that happens. Lower your weapon." he greets the man.

"The army? It's here, then?" Tears well up in his eyes. "Thank the gods. I didn't know how long it'd be until they got here and found us. Let me get the others. You have to get us out of here. WE can't *stay*, not a day longer. My wife -- she's starving."

Roland lets the spell fall and frowns, "How many are with you? And how much is there to move?"

"How many do you have with you?" The Veyshanti asks, Chandra reaches into her pouch to pull a token, "I will send a message to the prince so they know we found survivors..." She informs the others.

"Thank you." And he looks stunned, relieved at finding the man there. Svar shakes his head, "We're going to get you out. We're going to get all of you out. On my faith, let me do no less." Crispy, well. Crispy has nothing to say to any of that. He /does/ make a shh-shhh sort of noise with his ashes, if that counts.

"...a dozen. You don't want to think about the smell. We're all that's left as far as we know, along with all the exhibits from our museum. There's a few items of magical power amongst them, too, which maybe could be useful." He rubs his face, which is dirty. And he smells like shit. Literally. You would too in his case.

It doesn't take long for him to gather the survivors. A couple more men. A couple more women. And children. The rest are all children. Dirty, smelly, ragged looking children.

Xander, too, has dropped the spell of silence (else he wouldn't have spoken, of course!), and now, he withdraws his waterskin, offering it to the man to pass out a few gulps among the poor people. A starving, dehydrated man values nothing more than fresh water and food, but Xander's all out of the latter. They were travelling rather light, after all.

Karelin nods once, keeping guard. "Everyone stay together."

"Is there anywhere else in the city that survivors might be?" Chandra asks as she begins to count the heads.

"Possibly. Maybe. I don't know. This was the only place I could think of. Every town has secrets, though, and there were people all over making shelters to protect themselves from the 'gunners. Whether they were able to hide from the demons or not, I don't know." He grimaces.

Roland grunts and nods, "If there's a dozen of you -- I can speed our journey along once we're outside. Gather your possessions and once we're through the doors, everyone will need to hold hands."

"I will go with you Roland," Chandra makes certain the way outside is clear before putting anyone outside.

Svarshan holds Crispy. He looks at Xander. "I'm going with you," he says, wryly. Shifts the corpse. "I don't think anyone wants to hold hrmmmm...his hand." And said hand swings free. Sort of flops. And looks, well...crispy.

Karelin nods once. "I'll escort them as well." He takes his load of artifacts and shuffles along.

Chandrakanta is more concerned with people, smelly people, then with artifacts and antiquities. "I am glad we found someone alive after what we saw at the temple.." She holds onto the hand of a small child, for some reason, little kids love the Averite to her chagrin.

"As you wish." Xander says to Darshan. "Good luck. If I should arrive safely, I will send the raven to seek you and lead you to the encampment, if possible." he tells the rest. "We shall see you there soon, I hope." After the loot is piled and packed for magical transport, the mage chants, chants - and in a flash of light he, Darshan, and all the shinies vanish, leaving behind a brightly glowing rune. Slowly, the rune dims, subsides... and then vanishes completely. Gone.

Roland gives a grateful nod to Chandra and Karelin before moving to stowe some of the smaller objects in his pack, helping to guide the others into line before he walks past the others to take the lead, voice rising in song once more, "Through the darkness, through shadows -- still onward we must keep, for there are yet miles and miles to go 'ere we sleep." Then with a wave of his hand, he parts the veil between this world and the shadowlands, taking a tighter grip on the child behind him, "Hold tight and follow me!"

Well, then. Between Roland's magic, Xander's magic, and the stealthy skills of the others (and not so stealthy skills) you're able to inform the other teams of the survivors *and* get your way home. There's going to be *quite* the debriefing. And some very eager quartermasteres.

Xander has disconnected.

Karelin has disconnected.

Roland has disconnected.