Reentering the dark tower provides a bit of a surprise to the intrepid ditherers. It seems that during their leisure activities, the voluminous evil has reanimated some of the ambulatory flesh piles they first encountered. In an alarming twist – they are almost completely immune to magic so it falls mostly to the acid-soaked Cosmic accompanied by Mr. T and his dancing blades to wreak the appropriate levels of havoc.
The somewhat invisible stalkers are still top of the party’s dither agenda, so they veer in a different direction. Doors are scanned and unlocked, or broken down by the druid’s rampaging earth elemental. This does make life interesting by attracting a swarm of specters, but luckily the divine might of Justicar is such that he can overcome the home-field advantage of these undead abominations and they are dispelled. Highlights include a laboratory where some sort of fleshy construct was being created and a magical dog collar. Another fun thing is the stairwell full of bubbling tar. Also discovered was a trapdoor that drops to the floor below where some sort of boney statue looms over an effervescent pool, and a room with magical runes engraved upon the far wall that teleported Cosmic and the earth elemental to a force bubble on the uppermost balcony on the reverse side of the tower. Cosmic was able to use his crystal ball to contact Malchor and the rescue was underway.
Upon returning to the tower, an additional door led to a bedroom where the party was menaced by Frankenstein’s dog. After it was slain, the collar was placed around its neck and the dog’s soul soared free. All good boys go to heaven, it seems.
They eventually return to the topic of the invisible stalkers and with the help of some dust of appearance, they are visible enough for Justicar to dismiss them back to their plane. The group is now in control of the armory and are stymied by the locking mechanism for whatever lies beyond the secret door. Some new lines of discussion spring forth, including just letting the sphere of annihilation eradicate the place. Maybe looking for a way to the floor below – aside from exiting and going in the front door – could be interesting. So, they force open the trapdoor and decide to take a good look. The statue of a horned devil – missing one arm which lies in the pool of liquid – and there seem to be two exits – both blocked by the ubiquitous stone door. A moment is taken to ponder.
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