Cuetzpalli remains at the rear of the group with an arrow knocked to his bow. He attempts to appear as if the "priestess" is totally telling the truth, but is ready to put an arrow through the eye of a non-enthralled opponent should things go south.
Astraden bares her teeth at the tiefling in a cruel approximation of a smile. "Smenk was paying them to kill us. We are paying them to kill him. That one -" she says, pointing to Carina's body, "- failed to understand her opportunity. Smenk will see her broken body and, when the fear is still strong, he will be punished."
Turning to the guards: "I know Ragnolin Dourstone holds no love for that monster. Smenk is evil, corrupt, and has snubbed your employer on more than one occasion. We will destroy him. But we must do it soon, because my master has given us powerful spells of a short duration. Should you let us pass NOW, my master will explain your helpfulness to Ragnolin."
1d20+9+1d6+2
Cuetzpalli and Robin Aid:
Five dwarves and two tieflings start smiling and nodding, listening intently as Astraden speaks. The head dwarf looks troubled. "Your master? What has old Ragnolin gotten himself into this time?"
He hesitates, then steps aside. "I suppose it's none of my business. Move along...whoever you are.
"Gods, but I hate this town."
Tanith nods and, not terribly interested in arguing the matter, moves on with Carina still cradled in his arms.
Assuming the guards step aside, he leads the party out toward the surface and out of the mines.
"You are wise, dwarf. Greet your master for me."
Astraden clanks back up the corridor after Tanith. When they're out of the coal pits, she lets the disguise fall and undoes the clasp on the gauntlet medallion. "We should tell her mother, maybe. Then Taggin should give us enough money from the bracer to buy the oils for Nogwier."
Tanith shares a glance with Astraden. "What oils? Who's Nogwier?"
"The spell I'm thinking of requires some mystical druid oils. Nogwier has been the head druid at the Lodge for . . . well, since before I left. He's the only one who could cast it around here."
Tanith's head spins at the mention of mystical druid oils and Lodges. "What's the spell do?"
"It'll bring Carina back. Man, no wonder you were so broken up over her. Didn't you hear me and Farrukh talking about it?"
"Bring her back? From the dead?!" the big man says in disbelief.
"The druids can do that?"
"It's not like in the stories, but yeah, Nogwier may be able to do it. We'll have to find another druid if he can't."
Tanith is visibly conflicted, happy about the notion of having Carina back but disturbed by the idea of removing her from whatever afterlife she'd earned. Unless she really was in hell as Theldrick had said...
"We're going to have to deal with them when we come back", he says when a shrug back towards the mine.
The ring of crumbling menhirs on the bluff overlooking Diamond Lake is a remnant of an ancient human druidic culture that once inhabited the region. They too came to the hills for the ancient cairns, seeing them as monuments to great ancestors of the invisible past. Although modern humans displaced the native druids during great migrations over a thousand years ago, pockets of indigenous architecture and culture remain. Foremost among these near-forgotten practices is veneration of Obad-Hai, the Shalm, the brooding patron of wilderness and natural order.
The menhirs are damaged, but they still stand. A few of them have half-collapsed, propped up by conveniently placed old oaks.
Astraden steps just inside the ring, whispering a quick spell. "Anyone home?"
The area radiates a faint aura of magic.
Tanith looks around curiously. The old faith never held much interest with him, though he was always fond of the beasts druids seemed to attract. He’d wondered what it’d be like to wrestle a bear. Kord would smile on me if I ever pulled off something like that…
”I don't see anybody” the big man says aloud.
"Careful. There's something watching us from under that pillar over there. Not sure if it's hostile or just a lookout, but it's small." he whispers to the group.
"Come on, who goes there?" Astraden turns toward the pillar and stares intently. "We are not here to battle."
After a moment, a little goblin climbs out from behind the pillar. In one bony hand it grips a knife, in the other a wooden shield.
The shield has been hewn in the curious shape of a rotund female figure.
Its beady black eyes look over the adventurers, pausing over Carina's body. "Come with weapons, they do, but here to battle, they say they not. Confusing."
Tanith stares at the little goblin in confusion. He certainly didn't look like any druid he'd ever seen.
"We're here about our friend. She's hurt. We heard the druids could help", he explains.
The goblin scurries up and frowns at Carina. "Hurt, she isn't. Life is hurt. The dead don't hurt. Looking for Nogwier, then?"
Tanith frowns. "Yeah. Nogwier. He's the druid right?"
"You didn't eat him, did you?"
Tanith frowns. "Yeah. Nogwier. He's the druid right?"
"What you call him. Yes."
"You didn't eat him, did you?"
The goblin glares. "We hold up our end. No natives can we eat." He gestures. "Follow. Lead you to the Lodge, we can."
Without waiting, he springs off, running down the hill and towards a wooden copse about a quarter mile off.
A short ways within the copse, the adventurers find the Lodge. It is a twelve-chambered structure composed of piled megaliths covered by earth. The goblin leads the adventurers inside as he is joined by a gruesomely scarred one-eyed wolf.
The central chamber is dominated by a huge uprooted petrified bronzewood tree planted upside down so that its roots are exposed. Before the roots stands Nogwier. This ancient druid has a great gray beard in which lengths of ivy have either broken off or taken root. His skin is gnarled and pallid, his eyes barely visible beneath his matted hair.
He turns, leaning heavily upon a staff topped with the claw of a terrific beast. "Goblin, what is this?"
"Visitors. Seeking a miracle, they are."
Cuetzpalli seems very impressed by the druid's home and appearance. He bows to the druid and puts one hand on Spiny to make sure he doesn't get any ideas about the goblin or the wolf, both of whose species had made meals for him in the past. He allows those with more panache and conviction to do the conversing.
"Our companion was lost to unnatural, divine intervention. For her heritage she may have been sent to the gray realm of Hades, though for her actions she was more deserving of Elysium." Astraden indicates Carina's body with a slight wave. "We pray that you may bring her back."
Nogwier takes a deep, shuddering breath as he looks at Carina. "Tieflings are*cough*strange creatures. Though close to fiends*cough*they are not so. Your friend is where she belongs*cough*and the Shalm disapproves of needless cycles."
He looks Astraden in the eye, arching an eyebrow. "Offerings will be needed to appease the Winter King. Nerull is a*cough*stubborn one, but it can be done. But this takes time*cough*that me and mine cannot easily afford as the Age of Worms draws near. It will not be free."
The names and places are lost on Tanith but he didn't like the tone of the druid's explanation. Carina was good and brave. She deserved another chance. He deserved another chance.
"We have treasure", Tanith offers.
"Ha! *cough* Treasure is a newborn child. Treasure is a dying man's last words. Treasure is *cough*a sprig of freshly-cut holly. Treasure is the memory of a good meal." Nogwier scowls. "You have gold and silver. Give us something we can *cough* use. Like your diadem—but no. Keep your diadem. I sense you need all the wisdom you can lay your hands on."
Astraden hands him her shining pearl. "Is that enough? Don't you just need to buy oils and such?"
"We have been fighting a cult below Dourstone's mine. They believe in this 'Age of Worms,' but why? How do they know it's happening now?"
Nogwier snatches the pearl, eyes it, then bites down on it.
He stuffs it into his beard. "Oils. Bile of the green worm. Blood of a virgin doe. Silk from *cough* a giant wolf spider. This pearl will cover our time lost. Pay seven hundred gold for us to purchase the oils and *cough* we have an accord."
"We have been fighting a cult below Dourstone's mine. They believe in this 'Age of Worms,' but why? How do they know it's happening now?"
Nogwier's expression is heavy. "The Ebon Triad is what you refer to, I assume. *cough* They believe that the Age of Worms will herald the rise of their ludicrous 'Overgod'—that this era of evil *cough* will give him strength to rise up and make Oerth his."
Astraden pulls out the bag of gold from the bracer sale and begins counting, putting what she counts into another, smaller, bag. It takes a few minutes but she soon divides the thousand pieces into one bag of seven hundred and one of three hundred. "Who is "him?" I thought they were still trying to combine the three."
""Him' is the Overgod." Nogwier sighs impatiently. "You didn't think the Triad was just planning to stick the three gods together with sovereign glue, did you?
"When the three gods are merged, they will become a single entity. Evil incarnate. Mightier even than Io or Oerth, the Overgod will *cough* rise up to conquer all, spreading mistrust, blood and tyranny wherever he treads. Or so their legends dictate."
Tanith zones out as Astraden and Nogwier discuss religion.
"What about these", the big man says as he fishes out the bows. "They're very well made."
"Yeah, I'm not a huge believer in prophecies and legends. True evil is losing your friends, your family, or yourself; it's not hellfire and damnation." She turns to leave. "When should we return for her?"