Miranda shrugs to herself. Thinking it might be best to gather inside, close themselves in and deal with the Shriekers. Let's see what the rest think, her face seems to say. Her eye is caught by the tiny stone altar. It is cut directly from the granite which forms this mountain, and the Vault itself. It would seem, even the most intricate carvings, were etched directly from the solid stone.
"A bold plan, but risky," Piker says. "What happens if we get overwhelmed, or leaves someone outside? Where are Morcant and Gurin?"
Lisabelle knew if they split up now, they'd all be in trouble. "Lockjaw!" she commands, "If one of those things attacks anyone, tear them up! I'll do my best to keep the creatures rooted in place!" Her Entangle spell floats effortlessly off her tongue and through the air. In moments the bobbing and gyrating movements of the creatures slows to a struggling frustrated squirming.
"Good point. I was thinking we could cover the Shriekers! Then draw a monster through the door. Or, we kill everything. But we'd better decide quickly." "We could affix a rope across the doorway at shin-height like a trapwire..." whispers Miranda.
Piker remembers the tapestry and he retrieves it from his pack. "Ptomlek, help me trap the beasts with this!" He hands the stoic warrior the right edge of the tapestry and moves to pin the creatures to the ground. As the spores struggle against the Entangle spell, the weight of the tapestry renders their movements null.
Ptolmek signals Miranda to hold the door open until the other two to the west make it inside.
"Is this really necessary?" Blackbird shouts, raising his voice above the growing screech of the Shriekers in the room. Their deafening cry almost begins to overwhelm his mind and tear at the lining of his ears.
Blackbird draw his bow to full length, aiming at the living spores. He slowly walks backward and edges into the alcove under the arched doorway. "I can finish them swiftly! I don't think it wise to intentionally draw any more Grimlocks..."
As he positions himself in the alcove to get a better shot, Blackbird neglects to notice the pair of violet fungus growing in a darkened corner. The pair begins to shudder and move toward the unsuspecting archer. Their whipping tentacles flail about - lengthening with each whirl - reaching for Blackbird.
Across the Chapel, another pair of violet fungus tentacles begin to reach downward from above a small crack on the altar. The crack certainly wasn't intended by the master craftsman who honed the altar, but may have grown from a fissure over time, and successive earthquakes.
Together, Morcant and Gurin approach the commotion with their weapons drawn. Amid the confusion Morcant clearly saw their enemies being covered by a flammable tapestry. Morcant concentrated intensely on setting the tapestry on fire with his mind. The tiny fibers of the ancient woven fabric singed and scorched, blackened and suddenly burst into bright neon red flames.
The bright flash temporarily blinded Ptolmek and Piker who were closest to the ignition point. The shriekers renewed their cries - louder than before, fueled by utter terror and shear pain - at being set ablaze.
Adrenaline surged through Gurin as he leapt into battle! He somersaulted through the legs of the crowd, and rolled upright - with his axe drawn - in one fluid motion. With a great loud "YYYAAARRGGHHH" he cleaved at the lower halves of two shriekers at once!
The flare of the tapestry which burst so suddenly was beginning to die out. For those who retained their sight, they witnessed Gurin slice a shrieker completely in half, and it's mushroom cap top slump over and die on the floor. However, the thick root at the base of the final Shrieker caught and held Gurin's axe firmly in place. It was stuck, immoveable.
Meanwhile, Miranda made haste to pull the leather strap and re-close the door while the others were finalizing plans. From over her shoulder she hears the strange mutterings of an incantation.
"Safna þoku árdaga, Mynda ský af dýpstu móða, Ná reykinn af vaporous líkklæði, Hylja úða og afmá augnaráð þeirra!"
(OOC: Loosely translating the dwarven incantation into common tongue would result in - Gather fog of ancient days, Form clouds of deepest haze, Cover smoke of vaporous shroud, Obscure Mists and blot out their gaze!)
Marlit was never sure the tapestry would completely obscure the Shrieker's ability to see, or even sense the group. She casts an Obscuring Mist spell and focuses the effect in the corner where the fungi are clustered. As the smouldering remnants of the tapestry fall to the stone floor, the squirming Shriekers shudder and attempt to break free of the Entangle spell.
The cloud of fog Marlit calls into being from the ether is effective, to a point. The shriekers begin to lessen their cry - an attempt to call down any ill-willed beast that will finish their attackers. But the fog doesn't stop spreading and begins to envelope the floor and ceiling with a thick blanket of white smoke.
None of the adventurers choke on the thick soup of vapors as it hits the back wall and joins together to fill in the remaining emptiness of the Chapel. Unseen by all of the adventurers are the reaching tentacles of the several violet fungus in the room. The fog does nothing to deter their progress, and now the party is at a severe disadvantage - having absolutely zero visibility.
What do you do?