PRP: Kulthus Ruins
Kulthus Ruins: DM: Vuk Players: Verna , Munch , Gragnar , Brom
The recent events of late have left the world fraught with new dangers. Rogue Elementals around Alexandria, to say nothing of undead hordes brought about by Heth. Then there was the sudden appearance of warships bursting through the void. Claims of enslaving the Gods, and reportedly, one had a Kulthus marking.
Though perhaps not many knew of the last concern on the horizon..or in it was it were, waiting to burst through again, or maybe it had and was working insidously to open a new stable rift. What -should- be a concern is the appearance of a Kulthus ruin near Alexandria, for it had never been discovered before and ruin -may- not be the correct term. All indications make it seem rather intact, if not small. Perhaps a small toll house may be more appropriate, though there was indications of activity.
The Guild <and not to mention most any one who has realized the Kulthus markings of an airship were -bad-.> has encouraged a group to investigate, disable, and secure the site till a proper team of scholars could investigate. Whispers from the same indicate perhaps they don't believe this will yield information, but is a threat that must be dealt with..
Fortunately, or unfortunately for the crew assembled, it lies several days by swift horse into a desolate section of the woods, charred trees in a kilometer radius revealing how accurate the directions were. It's almost as if some thing -activated- and brought this 'ruin' to life.
History is not Gragnar's strong suit. You tell him ancient, presumed extinct empire, he hears 'people in need of punching.' It's quick, simple, and to the point. Mostly, he spent the trip focused on staying on top of the unruly animal beneath him. Horsemanship, also not his strong suit.
Fortunately, Verna could be considered a scholar, proper or otherwise. She is much moreso that than adventurer, in the vernacular presumption. Her travel was spent with her attention focused upon the tome in hand and lap. A written history of the area. Verified or not, it could prove to hold some insight.
Munch doesn't do well with horses. Or more accurately, horses don't do well with him, and they know it. Thankfully the barbarian is swift of foot and both willing and able to take the trip at a jog. "Kulthian ruins are awesome. They have all sorts of intresting stuff you can't find elsewhere. Most of it will try to kill you, too. Though I do wonder if it's related to that Void Fleet thing. Sorta sorry I missed that."
Brom is here! He has always been here. With his faithful slobbering landshark in tow. He rides atop his trusty companion, adjusting his monocle as he peers at the path ahead. "I say! Ancient ruins make a fine place for a spot of hunting. Let's hurry now, fellows!"
The Ruin was quite easy to find, given that it jutted from the ground..it's easy to see why it might be considered a toll house..a squat building, but closer inspection reveals it's only part of what must lie beneath. A splattering of dark liquid, that resembles oil more then blood surrounds where part of the roof collapsed inwards, surgically so, a bursting point, some thing impacted here with percision. Some thing powerful enough to render part of the hidden structure visible and cause a conflagration to ignite the nearby woods.
Yet the hole it self is dark, and only faint sounds come from below..snatched whispers, that bore into the mind. A hundred voices speaking as one, yet singular as they speak..muted, but so close..and the smell will never help..dusty, spiced heavily with some unknown agent, and yet rich with decay. Yet teeming with life, a paradise in the waiting. Then again..it is a Kulthus ruin.
The smooth stone doesn't give an indication of age..nor Origin, not what is visible, though it does seem to give off a faint glow, and is slightly warm to the touch..as if..alive. An occasional shudder seen to ripple across it..yet never felt. Munch's jaws crack open, splitting along the vertical and horizontal axis to spread wide, showing off a nightmare mix of fangs and food processing blades. From somewhere deep in the maw, a thin black tongue flicks out, probing the air, tasteing it. "Not quite what I expected. But the chances it's related to recent events just shot up a few notches." Brom adjusts his monocle again as they arrive at the ruin, peering at it from atop his slobbery steed. "Hrm. Who knows what kinds of mysterious beasts may lurk within?" He sounds excited by the prospect.
Verna considers the forcibly-excavated ruin. "I expect those that are carnivorous and territorial. The ratio of benign or friendly beasts is quite low, unfortunately." To that end, she conjures a field of protective force about her person. "Still, it is quite intriguing." The thought of hungry beasts is only mildly distracting from her interest in the structure.
"What fun is it if dey don't try ta fight back?" Gragnar asks, gripping the reins of the horse tightly, looking almost enviously towards the jogging golem. As they get closer, and begin inspecting the ruins, the Oruch frowns. Street smarts are basically the only smarts he has, but that's plenty to realize that bad juju is afoot. He checks the pouches by his belt, doing a quick inventory. He fishes out a potion (Mage Armor to those that can tell), and waits.
Munch pulls his adamantine axe from his back, ripping it free from the thin layer of skin that's grown overtop, many shreds still clinging to the haft. "Havn't been in too many of these places. But generally, if it moves, kill it quick, before it can kill you." Grabbing up a handful of his leathery dreadlocks, the golem gives a squeeze. There's a sharp crack from within, and the tendrils begin to glow with a soft blue light.
Brom leans forward, peering in to see what Munch's magic illuminates.
Munch's glowing dreadlocks reveal no more then the light of day, it refuses to penetrate past the darkness. By what means it is blocked out is not immediately apparent. Either by magic or artifice, some thing works to keep it out.
Munch leans foreward a bit himself... and buzzes quietly. "It's not just dark in there, it's Darkness. Capital D. Magical Darkness. Unless you guys have something with a little more oomph, we'll have to go in blind." "That said," Verna adds, "if it does not attempt to kill you, please do not destroy it. If this structure is as ancient as it appears, there could be valuable knowledge within." She looks into the dim to see what she may. Though no architect, Kulthian runes are rather conspicuous.
Gragnar takes a look around, and grabs a rock. He drops the rock, leaning over the hole to listen for the impact. GAME: Gragnar rolls perception: (5)+9: 14
GAME: Munch rolls perception: (17)+10: 27
GAME: Verna rolls perception: (13)+7: 20
You paged (Munch, Verna) with 'You both hear the rock hit some thing below with a dull thunk, it's hard to guess, but it's maybe ten feet down, but it's hard to be certain with how muted sound is, and the strange echoes it makes.'
GAME: Brom rolls perception: (11)+12: 23 You paged Brom with You hear the rock hit some thing below with a dull thunk, it's hard to guess, but it's maybe ten feet down, but it's hard to be certain with how muted sound is, and the strange echoes it makes.
Brom leans forward to listen closely to the rock falling. He frowns and strokes his feet. "Maybe... ten feet down? Sounds odd, though. Something's not right here."
Munch listens for several long moments. "...doesn't sound -too- deep, but I'm not sure. Pretty confidant could cut another entrance, if there was someplace else to cut. But think would have to dig out another someplace first. Might be best to just go in swinging."
Verna frowns, though it is nearly as hidden within her hood as the interior of the structure. "I do not possess the means to dispel such darkness. The fall may not slay us, but what is within may."
"Dark won't bother me much," Gragnar remarks. "Can fight blind," he explains. He looks to the others as they guess how deep the hole is. "Got some rope," he grunts, pulling out some spidersilk rope. "Should go first. In case dere's somethin' nasty."
"I've got no problem with that." Brom replies to Gragnar.
Plunging into the darkness may not be the best idea to most, as the natural light didn't penetrate it..yet once within, sight is not confused, it isn't robbed away. It's as clear as day in the ruin, revealing a long storage corridor.. with muted pulsing lights above ..what can only be described as holding cells, long disused. Recessed into the floor, with glass viewing blocks above them. Many are littered with bones and rusting scrap..a few have their entrances removed in a violent manner.
Yet one reveals a still living..being of sorts. Warped, mutated beyond belief, a blob of sentient flesh, once perhaps human, or elf. Though with what little is known of the Kulthus..perhaps both. It occupies the middle, folds of fat covered by dust, and dozens of rats burrowing in and out of it through rapidly healing wounds, the rats fat beyond what any should be except through magical means..
The end of the corridor of the macabre reveals a sealed hatch, the arcane runes since damage, but the mundane locks clearly re-engaged. There is more of the black ickor on it, what ever came here, went this way.
((Read/Comprehend langauges or other magical means to comprehend unknown langauges being used will reveal more. ))
GAME: Verna rolls linguistics: (19)+9: 28 Munch peers at the various whatever's with idle curiousity, of course spending a fair bit watching the fleshy blob. "...wonder if the rats are supposed to be in there, or if they came later?" A casual wonder, his focus rapidly shifting to the dorrway to whatever lies beyond. You paged Verna with 'The various markings above cells are complex to read in depth, there is a vague connection to Kulthian..but corrupted, or perhaps a more ancient form then previously seen. Many are marked as soldiers, weapons, or workers. The last one, with a still living candidate is marked as having been constructed originally before the Kulthus disappeared and is identified as 'Project; self generating crop for extended exploration.
Brom looks disturbed by the sight of the horrible flesh blob. "... Huh. Could such a trophy actually be stuffed and mounted?" Always going straight to the important questions. Verna is relieved when the darkness is limited to the entry point. The room, cells, sigils, and even the strange ...creature? are regarded as she steps unhurriedly. "These cells held a variety of individuals or materials, and were organized. Warriors, workers, weapons..." She pauses at the mass of flesh. "That is some manner of designed food source. Notice the wounds that rapidly mend. Carnivores could feast indefinitely, with care."
Gragnar lands on the floor, signaling for the others to follow him down. He follows the others, watching the blob with Munch for a few moments, grimacing. "Afta," he guesses, and turns his attention away. "Hurry up and get me somethin' ta punch," he says, disliking this place intensely.
Munch nods to Verna, giving the Blob a last look. "Sorta curious how it tastes. But looking at those rats, guessing are some side effects." Shifting focus, he looks to the door ahead. "Open it quietly, or break it down?" The murmurs of voices grow stronger the longer one is down here..echos that only half form..whispers telling you promises of power if only you join them. One, a female voice seems to be sobbing in the mix.. 'I can never die...I can never die..they squirm, they feast..they want my baby..'
Thus, it might be a welcome sound to hear a loud CLANK from beyond the door at the end of the holding cell corridor, and several screeching whistles of a steam engine..
Verna considers the noises beyond the door. "If it can be opened without cacophonous destruction, that would be bedt." She will not likely do so, with the others nearer and much more able.
"Well. That's unsettling." Brom says with a deep frown as he draws his musket. "... Everyone else heard that horrible voice thing, right?"
Gragnar grunts, nodding to Brom. He considers the door, and the sounds beyond it. He glances to Munch, then back to the door. "Think we should knock?" he wonders, downing a potion. GAME: Gragnar used a Potion of Mage Armor. Munch nods to Verna, and shrugs. "Then I'm out. I've two skill sets; break things, and hurt people." He nods absently to Brom, unconcerned. Really, any voices inside -his- head are likely having a rough time of it. He's already got voices up there, whineing about 'ethics' and 'subtlety' or something. "Yes," Verna notes curtly, "and I intend to end the torture. All things should pass on to their reward or punishment at their due time."
<OOC> Vuk says, "just give me a strength check, if any one is going to help munch, add +2 for each that helps Munch :)" GAME: Munch rolls strength: (6)+5: 11 <OOC> Munch says, "Pah..." GAME: Gragnar rolls strength: (7)+5: 12 <OOC> Gragnar helps Munch because Gragnar's fists aren't adamantine. It might take a bit, depending on how you go about it, but opening the door reveals what might be considered a 'lobby' or what was once a central point, corridors running off in myriad directions. Many look half formed..reforming endlessly, like they aren't entirely in this time and place.
The sound of the steam engine isn't hard to discover, there's two evershifting humanoids; those who heard rumors of the recent events in the Vast would know these as the Soldari that ripped through the gathered crowd before retreating. They're operating a steam engine to bore bolts off a storage vault...with tethers leading further along to another corridor, this one has it's door visibly torn away, shattered in half.
The tethers are made of a living material..entrails, binded together in long strands, shrouded in artifice, and lead to the steam engine, which in turn powers the auger, and several loops feed into the back of these 'Soldari.'
Perhaps the thing you realize about now..you didn't open the door, they did..and that Augur is being used by one to try and skewer who ever was smashing into the door! ((+inits!))
GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4: (18)+10+4: 32 GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-5: (11)+10+4+-5: 20 <OOC> Brom says, "Those're touch attacks." <OOC> Vuk says, "Both Hit. :)" GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (10)+(3)+3: 16 GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (10)+(3)+3: 16 Brom does not like things trying to skewer his adventuring companions. Good thing he has his musket out already. He fires two rounds of shot into the creature, reloading in a blur.
GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1+2: (7)+10+2: 19
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+7: (4)+7: 11
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+7: (15)+7: 22
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d10+5: (10)+5: 15
Gragnar moves in fast, wanting to beat the aggressor to the punch. Unfortunately, the doorway is rather full of Munch and Auger, so getting a clean shot proves impossible, Gragnar's fist swinging wide, though he's closer now, and ready to try again. He's not taking the glee he normally does in combat, but seems relieved to have something to hit, even if the something is gross and unnatural.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+7: (7)+7: 14
The Soldari holding the Auger suddenly has a man trying to slam their fist into it, and it recoils slightly before slamming the auger forward, the metal blades screeching as it revs it up. The body seems to be shifting..or perhaps more appropriately, losing cohesion when bullets slam into it. It's comrade though, levels a peculiar firearm at the people beyond the door, letting a bullet flare out from the thin muzzle, buzzing instead of howling. A spray of spent flying insects pouring out of it, each one clattering to the ground like metal. What ever langauge they are using causes the mind to recoil in pain if listened to.
<OOC> Verna casts Grease on the auger. GAME: Verna casts Grease. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+4: (8)+4: 12
Verna deems the large whirling weapon to be a primary threat. She attempts to remove the threat for the immediate future, somewhat directly. The weapon sudenly becomes slick as it is covered in a layer of grease with a brief gesture and an uttered word. That should hinder the wielder, by preventing one from existing.
GAME: Munch RAGES!, gaining: +4 Str, +4 Con, +2 Will and -2 AC GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+13+1: (18)+13+1: 32 <OOC> Vuk says, "Most decidly, a Hit." GAME: Munch rolls 1d12+11: (10)+11: 21 <OOC> Vuk says, "a very good hit!"
GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4: (10)+10+4: 24 GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-5: (8)+10+4+-5: 17 <OOC> Vuk says, "both Hit." GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (3)+(6)+3: 12 GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (4)+(3)+3: 10
Munch blinks as the door opens. he expected them to be close, but not quite that close. As the Soldari before him slips, the golem swells, toxic chemicals pumping into his artifical muscles with dramatic effects. A rainbow shower of sparks fly from his metal toes, arching upwards to lend magical speed to the enhanced body. Raceing foreward, the golem slams his axe into the pistol weilder with all the force of... of... well, with all the force of a rageing barbarian. It's sort of the benchmark until someone gets around to inventing a mack truck or a freight train. "Eat musket fire, abomination!" Brom pulls the trigger again and blows a hole right through the creature's chest. He boggles at the hole of inky void inside. "What tha...?" <OOC> Gragnar says, "Flurry of blows" GAME: Gragnar rolls melee: (15)+9: 24 GAME: Gragnar rolls melee: (17)+9: 26
GAME: Gragnar rolls 1d20+5-1: (10)+5+-1: 14
GAME: Gragnar rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9 GAME: Gragnar rolls 1d8+5: (4)+5: 9
Short desperate fights, those are so normal in surprise encounters, unfortunately, that also means surprise is long gone, that element so cherished in military tactics, ripped away like the wrapping of a present given to a child.
The two Soldari seem to simply..dissolve where they were with screeching pain as their bodies..and the Auger are -sucked- away into the tendrils connecting them, racing back through the smashed in door further down.
Then you hear it, a deep tone, that doesn't have any feel, but it conjures the scents, the tastes. Coppery blood of a serpentine body ripped open, the hiss of hot metal as oil splatters across it. The bile that rises before one vomits. It's communicating with some one that's speech is alien and causes the eyes to bleed the longer you remain, and dark shapes are moving from that shattered door..
Shapes covered in gore, viscera, afterbirth. Dripping with glistening gel, their bodies mutated, strange artifice piercing the skin. These are not held by tendrils, not given their ferocity and means of death by such limited fashion. Each one is different, yet their weapons are the same, bone, and metal. Swimming serpentine fetuses held in glowing orbs under the large two handed weapons.
Yet one being towers above even them as he slams through the shattered debris, some thing with eyes replaced by copper orbs, a blade glowing with cold so intense, it's white and sucks the air into a whirling vortex along it. A heavy squat pistol in it's other hand, and it's armor pristine and carefully carved with sigils from another existence.
'Automated Defenses are clearly inoperable. Rectify this.'
It isn't clear -whom- said that, for tortured voices still echo.
Brom eyes the dissolving Soldari with a frown of disdain, stroking his beard again. "... No sir, I don't like any of this one bit." Munch is an abomination of the natural, stitched together with mad science and given life with banned technology. But he's still alittle non-plused. "Well... got their attention." He readies to change in, which might not be the wisest move, but no one has ever accused the metal man of being wise.
Gragnar watches the augers retract, and moves to stand near Munch. "Let's bash sum creepy 'eads," he says, cracking his knuckles before, in a rather deft movement, wrapping chains around his fists.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (12)+8: 20
GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (17)+6: 23
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Munch rolls will: (5)+6: 11 You paged Munch with 'Despite you are a metal man, a construct..you feel some thing serpentine swarming through your warm entrails, gorging on your flesh, growing fat, and slowly curling it's way through you, grinding against bone and heading towards your spine to creep up along it. You are at -4 to hit..' GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1+2: (12)+10+2: 24
With Munch being large, and looking most likely to engage, the two soldiers best able to line up shots, do so. One squarely hammers him in the chest, the blast leaving a spreading green energy across his chest, the other's shot slams harmlessly into a wall. The same energies spreading over it. Their masks cover their laboured breathing, organs briefly visible as they fire their augmented weapons.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8+1: (18)+8+1: 27 GAME: Vuk rolls 2d8+4: (15)+4: 19
As Munch takes a hit, Gragnar lets out a bellow and, with an agility somewhat alien for one so large and fierce, he's moving in, swinging his fist for the leader.
The Soldari Veteran is not very amused by Gragnar, his blade so cold it glows white and draws air into it like a vortex slashing across his offending arm, but there's no malice in the action, this is clearly a discplined soldier. (( I need a fort save Gragnar )).
GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-4: (18)+10+4+-4: 28 GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-4-5: (18)+10+4+-4+-5: 23
GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (8)+(3)+3: 14 GAME: Brom rolls 1d12+1d6+3: (8)+(2)+3: 13
GAME: Gragnar rolls fort: (7)+8: 15
You paged Gragnar with 'Your mind is assailed of images of a sun being consumed by The Void, the very warmth stolen from it, viewed through the eyes of a god, chained to the world it once claimed it's providence, your tears freezing your eyes open. -4 to attack as you feel warmth leeched from you.'
The Veteran being engaged by Gragnar takes two shots into it's armor, sprays of black oil like substance oozing out before closing and pin pricks of blue light seeping through as the Artifice encased in the armor reveals it self.
GAME: Brom rolls will: (4)+5: 9
GAME: Verna rolls knowledge/the planes: (19)+7: 26
You paged Verna with 'you can not make out the original species..if they ever had one. What you do know is..this place, is not of -this- world, infact, it's in constant flux, and their weapons are literally dissolving reality where they hit. The Kulthus runes aren't -from- this world either. This entire place is melting your reality the longer you remain with out it stabilizing. You aren't even sure -what- you are fighting other then it's ripping energy from an unknown place, and the Leader has a weapon that looks like it's made of the Void, and it's in here.'
The oddities of this place and its contents suddenly spark some recognition. Not detail, nor exact nature, but a very likely explanatation for WHY they are unusual, if not precisely how. Her voice raises loudly from her hood, over the din of battle. "These things, this place, are not entirely on our plane! They could draw upon limitless power, or call upon countless reinforcements! This rift must be sealed, but we cannot do this with force of arms. We should withdraw and warn the city."
GAME: Munch rolls 1d20+13+1-4-2: (7)+13+1+-4+-2: 15
Munch buzzes to Verna. "If violence doesn't solve your problem, you aren't useing enough of it. but yeah, withdraw. But can't let these things follow." Somewhat counterproductive to withdrawing, teh golem moves forward slightly awkwardly, troubled by his previous wound. His massive blade comes close, but fails to connect.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (14)+8: 22 GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (7)+6: 13 GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (16)+8: 24 GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (9)+6: 15 GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (9)+8: 17 GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (13)+6: 19
GAME: Gragnar rolls weapon1-4: (12)+10+-4: 18
You paged Verna with 'you feel some thing serpentine swarming through your warm entrails, gorging on your flesh, growing fat, and slowly curling it's way through you, grinding against bone and heading towards your spine to creep up along it. You are at -4 to hit.'
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (15)+8: 23
Gragnar shudders, and takes a swing, a full haymaker, that swings wide. He turns, then, diving under the creature's attack, landing in a roll and coming up on his feet as he heads for the door. GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-4-4: (15)+10+4+-4+-4: 21 GAME: Brom rolls ranged+4-4-4-5: (13)+10+4+-4+-4+-5: 14
So Verna's words have struck some truth, indeed, this place is warping those who entered it..insidious whispers growing in strength things..parasites worming through some of their bodies. The slow labour of this place still ongoing, the clank of industry some where, some thing being uncovered. The roar of battle continues but one man flees and the Veteran's blade digs into the floor where he had been, white light exploding before an inky blackness fills the crack..
GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (9)+6: 15
"Waaaaaugh!" Brom is clearly suffering some sort of severe internal distress. He wobbles and fires about wildly, to no effect.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (15)+8: 23
GAME: Vuk rolls 2d8+4: (9)+4: 13
GAME: Munch rolls fort: (15)+11: 26
GAME: Verna rolls knowledge/arcana: (4)+10: 14
You paged Verna with 'You realize it might be impossible to close the rift -they- are using..but maybe you can seal the rift leading into here..for now. You just aren't sure how at the moment.'
GAME: Verna casts Shield. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14 GAME: Munch rolls knowledge/arcana: (16)+9: 25
Verna does not voice any advice, this time. Instead, she nearly buckles from the od energy blast that then seems to seep into her through her robes. Clutching ant her stomach with one hand, she moves rearwards for the recently-entered hatch. Her other hand gestures and conjures yet another field of protective force between her and those attempting to send her to her Matron. You paged Munch with 'You realize that trying to seal a rift in here may be an impossibility. Because A: You have no idea how to seal theirs. B: You have no idea how to find it when you are being ..an alien in their reality and it's slowly consuming you. You do realize, it's far more possible to seal off the rift that you took to get in here, to buy time till they can use it to exist outside of their reality.'
Those who begin to flee are left unmolested by the Soldari and the Veteran Soldari, they are of no consequence, they seem intent on maintaining their position and defense around the shattered door. Palpable aura of contempt for those who flee, as if their existence and flight means nothing to them. Perhaps they are curious about what they will do after they flee.
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (13)+8: 21
Munch buzzes harshly and falls back towards the door, barely ducking under a swipe as he goes. "This whole -place- is bad news. Get out, block the door as best we can. Collapse the whole tunnle, maybe."
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (19)+8: 27
GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (9)+6: 15
GAME: Vuk rolls 1d20+8: (13)+8: 21
GAME: Vuk rolls 3d6+6: (11)+6: 17
Every one else was retreating in various states of surviving fitfully. Brom then becomes the focus as the Soldari direct their weapons at them, blasts of vile power impacting into him, spreading their green energy over him, and inky blackness begins to form on his body. He is not of this reality, it is attempting to correct this as he falters.
As Brom goes down, Gragnar loops back, just a little, to grab the rifleman and drag him along behind. It slows him down, but, well, he was fast to start with. "Knock da roof in or somethin'," he calls at the others while making his way, fast as he can, for the door.
The beings never followed you beyond their reality..or to the first corridor, an implication they couldn't..or had no reason to. There was enough debris here to barricade the door..but they clearly had means to expand their power eventually...perhaps it would buy time. Perhaps they simply had no reason to leave yet.
The journey to the surface reveals time had in fact..moved -back- since you went in, a shrub that had been burned down when you came, was now still on fire. It's hard to tell exactly what happened..
Those who had been infected by ..the parasites, will soon feel their guts shifting..re arranging and bulges under their skin that burst open like fist sized blisters, painful, but ultimately harmless in the long run. What spills out is what is disturbing.. Gore streaked artifice, small cogs and wiring turned into hollow skeletons, half formed, that looked disturbingly like the tendrils connecting the partially formed Soldari pair, with their auger. There is little doubt, they were organic in part inside the Kulthus ruin...
Course, there is still a gaping hole in the top of the ruin that is pitch black, a rip in reality leading into theirs, slowly stabilizing.
"... Thass not good at all." Brom slurs as he stumbles and rushes away from the horrible reality-tearing ruin.
Munch rips away the growths pretty casually. Weird crap growing on/in him is slightly less unusual than most would be comfortable with. "....yeah... ya know, suddenly Heth doesn't seem quite so bad. Comparitively speaking."
Verna deals with flesh, fluids, and death on a regular basis. While the sight of some bio-mechanical amalgamation bursting our of her own flesh is novel and disturbing, it is also intriguing. Yet not so intriguing as to become a common pasttime. After ensuring that Brom does not travel for judgement just yet, and escaping the excavation, she pauses to study it. That, or simply catch her breath. "I am open... to suggestions on delaying their egress further."
"Stuff the hole wid goblin powder, light a match," Gragnar suggests, shuddering as the visions fade. "Dat, or pile whatever we can find on top." Munch nods in agreement. "Think will take magic to really seal it up. But pileing things on top won't hurt matters." Verna tends to Brom while the others consider the issue of egress. "Do not judge this one yet, Harsh Lady. It is not yet time." She calls upon Her grace and mends some of Brom's wounds.
Gragnar goes in search of fallen trees that haven't been burned to brittle charcoal yet, and begins dragging them back to the site.
It isn't clear how well trees and a few large rocks will work, but at least any thing that ends up trying to climb out from the darkness will smash head first into debris that if jostled, may fall inwards. It'll take hours, even for the strong Munch and crew..and no one tried to save the everlasting Crop, but for now..it might be safe to retreat.