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0122 - The Culprits

  Gruntle's flail clattered as he took it from his belt.

  "What are you doing?" Al asked.

  "Killing?"

  "We don't even know who this is! We might not need to hurt anyone!"

  Gruntle huffed, then yawned.

  "Sure, but if we're obviously prepared to do more violence than whoever is down there, it'll give us a negotiating advantage, right?" Wikwocket argued, unclipping BiteySue and drawing her ghost-stabbing dagger.

  Bote shrugged, and hefted their hammer.

  Al sighed with resignation and pulled Purgatio from its sheath. "Fine, but can we at least keep things calm unless we have to fight?"

  "Don't worry, we're paragons of subtlety! Come on, Gruntle!"

  Al had to admit they were at least quiet as they descended the steps to the next door. Wikwocket got down on the ground to try to peek under the door while Gruntle pressed his ears close to listen. Al wondered if that actually helped in this situation - even Al could hear the vigorous sweeping sounds. Another breaking-glass sound came through the door as Al went down the steps as quietly as he could.

  "I can see a broom. Whoever's using it is working really hard at it," Wikwocket described from the floor. "I can't see who it is, though."

  Gruntle grinned and crouched to barge through the door, but Wikwocket stood up and shook her head.

  "This isn't a situation for us to just charge in and start fighting immediately," she said gently. She gave Al a wink, and calmly lifted the door's latch. She took a deep breath.

  She kicked the door open. "Hold it right there, vandal!" she shouted.

  Al tried to make sense of what he saw. The room beyond was an experimental laboratory of some sort. A table with potion-bottles occupied the center of the room, and a row of rat-cages sat on shelves across the opposite wall. A desk with a collection of papers and writing supplies was in the corner. From somewhere beyond a door in another wall, someone was loudly playing a lute.

  That much was reasonably familiar, but there was also a robed figure with a broom and feather-duster. The robed figure was just tossing a glass water-bottle to the floor and upending one of the potion bottles into a cage as the door opened. The broom whirled madly about the room stirring up dust and the feather duster flew across the desk, knocking papers to the floor and spilling a bottle of ink. It took Al a moment to realize the "robed figure" was also headless.

  And footless. And handless and bodiless as well, Al saw as it rotated in the air to "face" the adventurers.

  The flying robe, broom, and feather duster shot through the air towards the intruding adventurers and were met by the the gnoll who rushed in with flail already swinging. Bote was already beginning a short and now-familiar prayer for favorable divine attention as Al braced himself for another fight.

  The feather duster zipped swiftly across the room and bounced off of the gnoll's head. With an angry snarl, Gruntle swung and his flail swatted the aggressive feather-duster tumbling across the room before it could right itself. The broom spun to smack Gruntle in the head, only to bounce off of his deftly-moved shield. Thus occupied, the flying empty robes flowed behind him and wrapped its sleeves tightly around his neck.

  "Hey, Al, they're all flammable!" shouted Wikwocket, rushing around her gnollish buddy to stab at the murderous clothing that was trying to strangle him.

  "I can't just throw fire everywhere! You're too close!" Al complained back. Despite this, he decided he'd be more effective taking Wikwocket's advice, conjuring a small ball of fire at the one foe that was not immediately next to anyone he didn't want to burn. He wasn't sure if he was helping or not as the burst of flame turned the feather duster into an angry fiery comet which arced away from its gnoll-targeting flightpath to aim for himself instead. The amount of magic-working he'd been doing all day was beginning to fray Al's mind at the edges,but his trusty magical barrier popped into existence at his command and bounced the burning feather-duster away in a graceful arc traced by glowing embers and smoke.

  A bright spark and a loud crack! like miniature thunder came from one of the rat-cages across the room with a recently-emptied potion-bottle stuck through its bars. The flash of lightning burst through the bars, leaving a hole for a sparking rat to crawl out through. Al suppressed his habitual urge to look accusingly up at the ceiling as he needed his attention to defend himself. He swung Purgatio at the burning feather-duster as it shot at him again, but it swiftly dodged around his inexpert swordsmanship and punched him hard in the chest. Al gritted his teeth and slapped at the shower of embers that sprinkled his robes around the soot-mark of the impact.

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  Gruntle dropped his flail and grabbed the strangling robes. He tore them away from his neck and held them away from him as his other hand punched his shield at the broom as it swung again at his head. At Bote's invocation, a flash of divine radiance shone down from the ceiling onto the broom to evaporate a bit of the unnatural animating magic from it, while Wikwocket stabbed BiteySue through the fabric of the robe and slashed downward, leaving a long vicious cut.

  Flashes of tiny lightning came from another of the cages and one more rodent squeezed themselves through the twisted metal bars. The rat that was already loose squeaked a bolt of lightning of its own in the direction of the desk that it was scurrying under. The effect seemed to startle it as it jumped back for a moment, but it resumed its rush to safety and disappeared under the desk.

  Very little remained of actual feathers as they burned up, but the feather-duster circled around and past Al's guard to strike him again in the chest. It seemed to almost be taunting him as it dodged precisely around Al's sword-swing. Gruntle sank his teeth into the cloth of the struggling robe as it twisted and reached down to wrap its sleeves around Wikwocket's neck. The gnoll ripped away a wide strip of cloth like a predator tearing meat away from a kill, but this gave the broom an opportunity to smack him in the side of the head. Her eyes bulging as the cloth sleeves strangled her with unnatural strength, Wikwocket stabbed BiteySue into the armpit of the robe and slashed sideways, cutting the sleeve open entirely. More punishing radiance shone down on the broom from the ceiling.

  A series of tiny bolts of lightning flashed, one from underneath the desk, one from the corner of the shelf where an escaped rat was looking nervously at the fight across the room, and a third from yet another cage. Gruntle and Wikwocket both yelped, and dodged desperately as the crossfire of lightning from the two rats danced around their feet and bodies. Wikwocket took a gasping breath of air as the robes they were fighting released her. The now shredded and scorched cloth twitched violently as the lightning arced through it as well and then slumped to the floor in a smouldering heap. The rat on the shelf scurried for cover behind the cages, where yet another was making a bid for freedom through scorched and bent metal bars. Al growled in exasperation at the increasingly absurd and dangerous situation but could spare no attention to anything but defending himself. He grasped Purgatio in both hands and concentrated on the smoking feather-duster as it aimed for him again.

  As if to mock him one last time, the charred wooden handle of the feather-duster bounced harmlessly off the middle of Al's chest, nothing more than lightly-smoking stubs left of the feathers. He chopped down onto the wooden handle, splitting it in two just to be certain it was "dead".

  The broom swung again at the gnoll, who turned his head to clamp his teeth deeply into the handle where the bristles were fastened. Wood splintered as teeth sank in. A clump of bristles remained clamped in Gruntle's teeth as the broom pulled itself loose again.

  More lightning flashed around the room. A bolt from somewhere behind the cages ripped through the entire row, and several more frightened, squeaking rats fled their cages and scurried into corners and under the shelves and desk. The commotion startled one who had leapt onto the top of the desk, who squeaked a bolt of lightning in Al's direction. It passed through him and continued to Bote, who yelled at the unexpected pain. Al had to agree with Bote, lightning hurt.

  This needs to end, before we get killed, Al thought. With one last great mental effort, he threw as much intent as he could concentrate on into abstract magical violence. Four shimmering shafts manifested themselves around him and struck the supernaturally-animated broom. It shuddered and fell to the floor with a clatter, and Al retreated back out into the staircase with Bote.

  "Get out of there before those rats fry us all!" Al called out. Wikwocket hastened to take Al's advice, but Gruntle hesitated.

  "Snacks," he complained, looking around the room where skittering and squeaking of hiding rats could be heard.

  "Later, come on!"

  With a disappointed huff, Gruntle picked his flail back up from the floor and loped to the stairway with the others. Al pulled the door shut, and for a moment they all just stood there panting for breath. Aside from some quiet squeaking and the muffled sounds of a loudly-playing lute somewhere beyond, no further sound came from the laboratory behind the door.

  "Did we win?" Wikwocket finally asked. A startled squeak and a crack of lightning answered her, shaking the wooden door as it was struck from the other side.

  "The robes were replacing the water bottles with potion bottles," Al observed.

  "There are potions that make you spit lightning?" Wikwocket asked in wonder. "I want some!"

  "Apparently," Al answered, dreading that Wikwocket was aware of this now. "The real question is why, though."

  "Wasn't replacing the rats' water bottles one of the chores on that list? Maybe they were trying to help!"

  "Maybe, but why attack us if they were trying to help?"

  "Maybe they don't like being interrupted?"

  "Maybe. So, what do we do about this? Hopefully they didn't beat the apprentice to death before going on their helpful rampage of cleaning, but it's probably best that we find him quickly. I'm about done, though. My whole body feels numb and tingly from the lightning and I don't think I can manage any more serious magic-work. Anybody have any great ideas for how we get through the rat-cage room and through the next door without rats running around zapping us?"

  "Snacks," Gruntle suggested, pointing at the door.

  "What about the lightning," Al reminded him.

  "Spicy snacks," Gruntle insisted, and pushed the door open again. Frightened squeaking and scurrying erupted around the room as the always-hungry gnoll rushed back inside. Al winced and waited for more lightning. He was surprised and relieved when no more appeared. He peeked inside to see Gruntle hanging his flail back on his belt and shifting his shield back to his shoulder, then diving to reach quickly under the desk. He stood backup clutching a rat which struggled and bit his hand.

  He bit it back, and swallowed both halves of it.

  Al stepped back into the room and regarded the other door. It was clad completely in iron and looked heavy. The words INCINERATOR and CAUTION: FIRE IS HOT were engraved on the metal.

  The incessant loud playing of a lute continued from somewhere on the other side. Listening carefully, Al thought he could hear some crackling flames as well. He crossed the room and carefully put his hand near, and then on, the door. It was warm, but not hot.

  "Someone else can open this one while I stand out of the way," Al declared.

  


  Basement 4 / Testing Chamber: As the players enter this room, they see a very bizarre sight. There is an animated broom that is

  currently whirling about the floor, stirring up dust. There is an animated feather duster on the desk knocking over ink and scattering

  papers, and an animated robe that is replacing the water bottles on the rat cages with potions. As soon as the players are seen, the

  animated objects will attack. Three rats have been given potions of lightning breath and they begin to escape from their cages

  shortly after the fight begins. They are really just trying to escape, but they cannot control their new breath attack so they cause

  more mayhem. [...]

  seems like it's pretty obvious what's happened, at least to the readers.

  Animate Objects spell, since it has clearly lasted longer than one minute (and it's not clear from the situation if "concentration" is necessary for whatever is going on). This implies that it's a more potent "higher-level" spell than the standard Animate Objects spell, which already requires substantial magic-working ability to cast, but more importantly gives me a perfectly legitimate excuse to deviate from the one in the SRD.

  Animate Objects spell as a template, but it obviously lasts at least an hour or so, and probably doesn't require concentration to keep working. In order to make it plausible for this situation to be occurring, I'm reducing the potency in some other ways to make this plausibly a lower-level spell effect. We reduce the number of objects that can be affected, we reduce the damage (this isn't meant specifically for "make inanimate objects fight for you" the way the standard one obviously is, since it only lasts one minute at most) that the animated objects do, and we leave them being objects in addition to be creatures while affected by the magic, so they'll be subject to effects that do things to objects and effects that work on creatures - hence the feather-duster being ignited by Al's version of Fire Bolt since it is still an object that is not worn or carried. These objects also don't have some or all of the harm that's done to them while animated magically undone when they become inanimate again, which just plain feels more satisfying.

  Tiny ,the broom is Small, and the animated robe is technically Medium since it's got a "medium creature" worth of reach and "control", despite just being a piece of cloth that could be wadded up into a "tiny"-creature-sized space.

  someone said to replace the rats' water bottles they didn't specify with refilled water-bottles. The standard Potion of Fire Breath seems to be proprietary and not part of the SRD, but it specifies it lasts for three exhalations of fire or one hour (whichever comes first). I use this as a template for Potion of Lightning Breath, which I semi-arbitrarily decided does 2d4 lightning damage in a 30' line, at least for the rats. One round after the fight starts, the first rat who's had Potion of Lightning Breath dumped on them has ingested enough to spit the first bolt of lightning, destroying some of the bars of the cage and letting them run free. On each of the next two rounds, another of the rats will experience the same thing. The rats will naturally have their attention drawn to the commotion of the fight (so they'll often have their attention in that direction when another exhalation of lightning occurs) but they'll mostly be looking for someplace to scurry away and hide, like under the desk, behind the cages, under the shelves or table, etc. If something breaks cages of the other rats, it might be difficult to figure out which ones might potentially still spit lightning at people. Each rat has a chance of being startled into spitting another bolt of lightning each round after they've escaped. After two more lightning-breaths, the potion's effects wear off. The protagonists don't know it, but there was only one rat left with one lightning-bolt left in them when they fled the room, and Wikwocket's sudden question startled it into spitting a bolt of lightning at the door where the noise came from.

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