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Clutching his stomach to better contain the pain inside, Ermon nods with a grimace before teplying through the link:
Got it. Healing would be great, in case something happens to Animus' spell.
Going in there doesn't just seem wrong. It feels wrong too. This is a place that's simply not supposed to be, as evidenced by his active Mage Sight showing reality itself being violated and corrupted here. He shudders, struggling through the oppressive force of the Anomaly and moving forward.
Falling apart and rank with black-mold and rot, is the House. The scent of it hits Animus and Leo right away, terrible and unyielding. Thankfully, there is electricity but turning on a light causes scratching of tiny claws to prick their senses. Cockroaches scatter.
The first room they enter is a living room of a sort. Upturned chairs look to be ready for anything, but the fabric looks torn and the foam looks half-eaten by tiny teeth. Moonlight filter through blades of light that are allowed by breaks in the wood.
One of the light-bulbs flicker and buzz, on its last-legs.
As a small mercy, the anomaly begins to dissipate; allowing the group's energy to return bit by bit.
Please Roll Perception -2, Trained Observer applies.
Keen eyes scanned over the half-eaten foam and the torn fabric and the blades of pale moonlight cutting their way onto the floor as Asp moved into the room, weapon at the ready...
2sux
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An emphatic "goddamit" splattered over the mental link before Avis could stop the thought.
She didn't argue or think anything further, at least not loud enough to be heard. The thought of reducing the site of this evil was still tremendously appealing, though. It didn't matter if it wouldn't fix the dragon line. There were other things that needed to be cleansed, and these bodies had to be dealt with.
She stalked over the savaged corpse that had once been Obsidian, and with a grimace, bent down to fit her hands under its armpits and lift it up so she could move it. The vision of tortured flesh filled her eyes, the wet, acrid tang of blood was slathered inside her nose, and the drip, squelch, and occasional crackle of bone and cartilage plugged her ears as she paced backwards into the house.
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Animus cringes at the scent assaulting his nostrils, but pads onward undeterred. Bleake surroundings matched a bleak mood, but neither had any particular effect on the other.
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Once inside the house Leo placed Rippers body off to the side of the doorway and looked around. What could possibly go wrong with the scelesti out of the way? Other then Chuckie Abyss baby.
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Ariadne nods to Leo as he calls the shots.
Ideally the mystagogues can help with the geomancy. The wrongness of the place and the possible horrors of what awaits inside blind Ariadne to anything around her.
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Apparently, healing isn't much of an option, so Ermon keeps to the back of the group, keeping his eyes open. And seeing the signs of decay both in the Supernal and the Fallen. Another reminder to never think light of the Scelesti again.
Finally giving up, the light-bulb dies. The invasive scent permeates the air. Silence takes control and even the sound of scurrying rats seems to stop as though waiting for the group to make a mistake.
Asp, Animus, Leo:
The Arrow Three
Getting through the Living Room requires an Extended Dex + Athletics roll, -2 for Perception Fails -0 for characters who succeeded, TN of 5 for tedium. Those who successfully get through the Living Room, should narrate the direction they are going in the House.
Asp stopped suddenly, holding up a fist up and to her side in that L-shaped way soldiers do when they're signalling a halt. Heads up. Traps. She transmitted the image of the razor wire to the others as she murmured in High Speech and opened her eyes to the darkness with Nightsight. The spell contagion was beginning to ramp up, the headache from the stress on her Pattern was growing, but she did what she had to do.
After all, the headache from getting accidentally decapitated would probably be worse.
With a determined look on her face, Asp began weaving her way carefully through the wire. A high step here, a lean there, cautious, for failure would be Very, Very Bad. She had trained for this. It was important for any who wished to be one of Sharp's squad to be physically agile. The young Obrimos made it through.
Bedrooms on the right, kitchen ahead... she transmitted the images to the group, giving them an up-to-date sense of what was coming.
She waited for Animus, peeking the kitchen carefully with just her head, using the wall as cover for her body in case there were projectile traps or anything of that nature in the kitchen ahead. She even looked up. She'd seen The Walking Dead. Axe traps were a thing to be concerned about when it came to Spooky Fucking Death Houses. Her Supernal Vision swept along with the mundane, seeking any magical dangers ahead.
I've got your back. Track on, Animus.
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(Threads of Blood) So how was your day?
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