It doesn't take ranks in Knowledge (engineering) to see that no, it does not.
Menra looks down the chute at the commotion going on, before looking back at his fellow wizard. "Well, seems we have a new friend. I'd join them down there from here but... I'm not quite as spry as I used to be." He gives a short grin, before looking back at the cramped space. "And that's assuming of course, I'd even be able to fit with my crown as they are. You're free to join them of course, but how about we go look for alternative means?"
Grimdell immediately throws himself into a careful inspection of the walls of the basement, but not without commenting, "But if this foul one did not live here, how did she know of these secret places?"
Upon hearing the man is a follower of Petty Boon, Virro pauses for a moment. He looks like he considers asking a question, thinks for a moment, then decides against it, settling instead for a rather neutral comment.
"Wow, impressive bit of protection, there. Don't see many able to afford armour like that anymore."
It takes a bit of effort, but you eventually manage to get everyone who went down into the hidden basement out again - including the heavily-armoured Yenneiros.
A bit of careful tasting and scanning by the two Wizards soon proves that the bottles contain magic potions; you are now the happy owners of five potions of cure light wounds and five potions of inflict light wounds. The gemstone turns out to be an onyx, worth a cool 25 coins.
You suppose that if you really wanted to, you could bring up the tools used by the mystery necromancer and sell them in the next town you come to. Who knows, the ceramic blades and saws might be worth something...
With the party reunited, you execute a painstaking sweep of the house. You find no other secret shafts or tunnels, but a very careful investigation of the cellar where you found the beer brings to light a secret panel hidden at the back of an empty barrel, which provides access to the cabinet of horrors where you discovered Yenneiros and where the family which once called this house home was murdered.
In addition, you discover a stall in the stables which has, on closer inspection, been converted to house animals not suited for riding; you think it far more likely that it was used to hold coursing beasts. Half-buried in the straw, you discover a leather collar with a familiar-looking clasp ... Familiar because you found several others of its kind around the necks of the rat-beasts you fought before!
In spite of all your discoveries, you do not find the cleric of Kebal who so violated the laws of host and guest. Night is proceeding, and you need to decide what you'll do next. One thing you certainly have to do is introduce your new friend to your cantankerous employer, Dageau, who is still waiting in the living room with his mystery cargo.
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Yenneiros thanked Virro, but otherwise eyed the man distrustfully, his words sounding like that of a brigand. He seemed to keep his distance from the elf as if he mildly suspected he might try to pick Yenneiros' pockets.
He had no answer for Grimdell's question, though now that it had been voiced he couldn't help but wonder. Had the cleric somehow reshaped the kindly family's home to her needs with magic? Were these installations just present in the home, and the family had no knowledge? Did the family themselves make use of these chambers for some sort of illegal smuggling operation?
In the end, he supposed that it didn't matter. They had been slain, and their killer was escaping justice. Yenneiros was considering bidding his rescuers a safe journey while he stayed behind and watched the house for the murderess' return. He was thinking that these travelers likely had somewhere to be, and wouldn't want to tarry here so long. It irked him mightily that the cleric would not face retribution, and it might take a great deal of convincing to get Yenneiros onto the road without first subduing and arresting that cleric. He didn't voice as much, but perhaps it showed in his rising irritation as they came up empty handed.
Once in the living room and faced with meeting Dageau, he greeted the Tengu merchant and provided his name, introducing himself simply as Yenneiros Shieldhart but otherwise waited for the others to speak and explain his presence. It seemed the most polite.
Grimdell is clearly unhappy to not be able to rend this cleric limb from limb.
"We should keep watch this night in case she returns!" he declares.
”And we should all stay together, lest the foul fiend return.”
Yenneiros thanked Virro, but otherwise eyed the man distrustfully, his words sounding like that of a brigand. He seemed to keep his distance from the elf as if he mildly suspected he might try to pick Yenneiros' pockets.
Virro either doesn't notice, or doesn't particularly care, that the burly half-elf is giving him suspicious glances
"We should keep watch this night in case she returns!"
”And we should all stay together, lest the foul fiend return.”
"Brilliant idea," Virro replies, rolling his eyes. "Take watches. Never would have occurred to me to start taking watches after we got ambushed at night. Especially after I, uh... After I decided to sleep apart from... everyone... in a room.... Okay, you got me there. Let me get my bedroll."
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On the way back up, however, Virro quietly talks to Menra.
"Hey, greybeard. You're a learned type, right? Know anything about the gods?"
Menra puffs at a ceramic pipe he seems to have procured from seemingly nowhere, smoking a foul smelling substance that stinks strongly of sulfur and ash. "Mmm... I am well acquainted with my goddess of magic and her lover- even more so tonight.... The others though?" His voice trails off, as he goes into deep reflection.
"I would much like to catch the creature who did this. Such skill with necromancy is dangerous."
"That is an impressive set of armour. A rare sight. I don't know if the bird out there will want you with us. He's a merchant." As if the word 'merchant' should explain everything about Dageau and his miserliness.
"Mmm... I am well acquainted with my goddess of magic and her lover- even more so tonight.... The others though?"
"I forget who was who, though my question is a bit more general. Namely, any good way to tell the difference between being visited by a god in your dream and just having a really weird dream caused by too much drink?"
"Because I apparently met Petty-Boon who told me a bunch of vague stuff. Until I got angry and him, and he got... well, a bit more specific. And while it sure didn't feel like a normal dream, I'm still not sure if this was just a visit of whatever was in that beer instead of a visit by a really optimistic god."
Dageau indeed awaits you all in the living room, taloned feet perched on his mystery box of merchandise and his beak in a small account book, in which he is making small notes while muttering angrily to himself.
When you all introduce Yenneiros to the irascible Tengu, he clicks his beak in a testy fashion, but puts away his book to look the armoured warrior up and down.
"Well, I dare say you all want this straggler to join us on our way to Ulak," he says, his caw of a voice rich with sarcasm. "Phaw! I'll allow it, so long as he makes himself useful along the way, but I'm not paying him. He's lucky I'm not charging him, so there. Now, if you've made sure there's nothing else in this house that wants to murder us all in our sleep, I suggest you set watch rotation and we all get some sleep! We have another long day's journey ahead of us tomorrow."
"I will watch first," Grimdell states firmly.
"I'll watch second. Or whenever," Virro grunts as he rolls out a blanket in the living room.
”We shall go third,” Brycen says, plumping his bedroll and stretching out once more.
and starts to compare it to his own similar experience just a short time before. Everything lines up, and in part, that's what frightens him the most.
The elder looks upon Virro with concern creasing at the corner of his eyes. "That was no mere hallucination, my friend. I can't rightly understand why he has chosen to bless you with his presence, but there's not a doubt in my mind that it was a true visitation."
Turning his gaze away, he contemplates the swirling patterns of smoke that emanate from his addiction. "You're not alone in this respect either. Both Serill and I had dreams that started out remarkably similar, only to be finally merged into one by the mad goddess and lover of Petty Boon herself. Her words were... cryptic. I could spend years trying to pull meaning from her nonsense. But you... what,
pray tell, did he reveal to you?"
Sighing as he reclines into chair yet again, he feels his eyelids grow heavy. "If it wouldn't be too much to ask, I'd like to request a full night's rest for myself. I've frown rather tired in these last few years, and there's little I myself could do if something were to truly spring out at me in the midst of darkness."
"That was no mere hallucination, my friend. I can't rightly understand why he has chosen to bless you with his presence, but there's not a doubt in my mind that it was a true visitation."
"Neither do I, really. Can't say I've had much faith in the gods. If they can't fix the planet, then what's the point?"
Turning his gaze away, he contemplates the swirling patterns of smoke that emanate from his addiction. "You're not alone in this respect either. Both Serill and I had dreams that started out remarkably similar, only to be finally merged into one by the mad goddess and lover of Petty Boon herself. Her words were... cryptic. I could spend years trying to pull meaning from her nonsense. But you... what, pray tell, did he reveal to you?"
"Wait... The two of you also had dreams of being visited by a god? Who all drunk some of the... No, no, I remember, you turned it down. Okay, so maybe it wasn't the beer."
"Anyways, what did he say? Well, first, he questioned my life choices with metaphors. After that, he said that there's apparently a battle between Vexat (Who he used some rather evocative terms to refer to) and Kebal, and so he (Petty, I mean) was manoeuvring between them to do something. But here's what he said. Wow, this really stuck in my mind, I can recall it perfectly: "You are close to a key. A key to something wonderful. Even you in your pain should be able to see the marvel of it, once you've got it in hand. Use that key to open the right door, and it tips over the whole game, breaks all the rules, and allows for ... miracles.'""Of course, I have no idea what he's referring to. Well, mostly no idea," Virro says while gazing out the window towards the circle of monoliths. "Apparently gods are required to be vague."
"I'd ask what was in your dream, but I'm guessing you couldn't figure it out, either."
”We shall go third,”
"'We?' What, you and your ego?"
Brycen cracks an eye open at Virro, but given his current circumstances, decides to allow his insolence to go unanswered.
Grimdell thought Brycen was strange, even for a human-type, but given his proven mettle in combat did not himself why he kept using 'we'.
The night passes uneventfully, with none of the watchers disturbed by further samples of the necromancer's art. The day dawns dull and red - like every day on Rue.
Unlike most days, this one comes with an unpleasant surprise. As you rub the sleep from your eyes and start moving about the living room, it is not long before one of you opens the door to the hallway -- and discovers a note pinned to it.
Written on the thick vellum in a round, steady hand is the following:
”How in the world could this creature have snuck so close to us so as to pin this note?”
"Through dark magic!" Grimdell declares, with unwarranted certainty. "We shall weather these challenges then sink talons into her black throat!"
"Oh, boy. Being stalked by a crazed murderous lunatic. What a fine way to start the day."
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Yenneiros had shuddered at the discovery of the note. "Let's torch this place as we leave. It doesn't belong to her, fire will cleanse its defilement and we'll be depriving her of her workbenches. She likely has other dens of evil where she plies her ghastly trade, but this is the only retribution I can conceive of at this time, considering how cagey she has proven."
Sitting up from the chair, Menra almost made a show of stretching his aching back and cracking old joints. The chair he had napped in seemed to have a loose spring that was jutting up against the upholstery, making the night's rest less pleasant then what he was used to back home. He should've opted to bring his foldable lawn chair when prepping for the journey, he was already well used to it's own aches and pains.
His lips pursed when he saw the note and learned of it's contents, "It need not be dark magic. A simple illusion could've done the trick, but then again she may just as well have come in to try and slit our throats. None of you heard anything particularly off durring the night, noises you may've attributed to the structure settling?"
Grimdell shakes his head. "If I had heard anything, I would have said!" he screeches, seeming a bit insulted.
"Let us burn this place and be gone! The fire shall be a beacon of our defiance of the dark!"
”Fire it is,” Brycen says. He raids the cellar for alcohol, keeping a cask of the good stuff and using the rest as accelerant.
"Burn it to the ground. Deny that freak a nice place to sleep tonight, at least."
Serill agrees with the burning, with only a small hesitation. "Perhaps it will make her angrier. I think that matters little though."
Having not had any further dreams, Serill thinks of the words now stuck in his mind. He summons his magic while Dageau isn't looking and scans the box with detect magic.
The box does not radiate active magic, but it ... reeks. You have no better word for it. It's as though the thing had been marinading in the alcoholic reek of a bar for years on end, to the point that it continues to stink of the stuff. But instead of cheap booze, this box reeks of magic. Whatever was in it has been touched by great power, repeatedly and over a long period of time.
A column of smoke rises to the purplish sky. As you set off along the Old Road, you can still hear the crackling of the flames as they devour the manor behind you, smell the taint of smoke on the air. Once, a famly lived here and practised the virtue of hospitality. Hereafter, there will only be ashes and a scorched patch of dirt.
Until the wilderness reclaims the site, anyway.
But you move on, surrounding Dageau's cart.
The surly Tengu mutters under his breath for the first few hours, uttering bitter complaints over having to make the supplies stretch for an additional traveller.
Those of you who brought your own food can laugh at your employer's griping -- though it would probably be best to do it when he isn't paying attention to you.
Time passes, and you march through the grasslands. After the letter you found, the warning from 'V' that you would be tested, you pay close attention to the land around you. You are wary of danger. Around mid-morning, you have a scare; a wedge-shaped shadow streaks over you, and you flinch as you look up. Lizard-skinned and hook-beaked, the elgrad is a deadly airborne predator, physically powerful, inhumanly intelligent and cruel in the extreme. The beast regards you all with a fiery eye and makes another high pass, out of bowshot, but then appears to decide you are not worth the trouble -- yet.
"Quick-march," Dageau decides after the elgrad has moved on towards the horizon. For a wonder, no one complains or disagrees, and you move faster until the nervous jitters have worked their way out of your systems.
Time wears on, the blind beast gnawing away at the life of Rue, and the world turns towards lunchtime. Some of you might be thinking about calling a halt just as you are coming to a shallow river ... with a wooden table standing on each shore. Lying on the table nearest to you are a small, cardboard sign and a pile of candies.
The sign reads .
"Well, the note did say that we were to be tested...but by marshmallows?"
Grimdell, as usual, is circling over the group. He doesn't bother to look closely enough at the table to read the sign, nor does the sight of candies attract the carnivore. He simply continues his watch above the party.
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"...What?"
Yenneiros is utterly baffled, brow furrowed hard as he looks at the strange test. Two tables, one on each side of the river, marshmallows...
"Well, half tempted to try throwing the candies in the river. But that's just some strange gut instinct that's come upon me. With my luck it'd attract some terrible river beast... And also, I see no reason why we can't just be on our way and ignore it... Nobody eat those things, that 'V' lady was quite fond of poison."
Serill looks at the candy, Sweets, too dangerous, but so tasty. He summons a small amount of magic.
"SERIOUSLY!?" Virro calls out in exasperation to a random direction on the off-chance whoever set this test up was in that vicinity. "ARE YOU GOING ON ABOUT METAPHOR AND VAGUENESS TOO!? CAN I JUST WATCH THE PLANET DIE WITHOUT HAVING TO THINK ABOUT CRAP LIKE THIS!?"
Virro walks up to the table, picks up one of the candies between thumb and forefinger, looks at it with annoyance, and then hurls it into the stream.
The sweet hurtles towards the water, bounces off the sluggish stream and lands back on the table.
As far as Serill can tell, these are ordinary marshmallows...
While he at first pondered the odd candies, seeing the way the water reacted draws his attention instead. What in the world.."
He raises his hand into the air, tracing a small pattern while concentrating magic into his eyes while staring into the water.
"Cursed marshmallows perhaps. I don't see anything strange, which in itself is quite strange. Try tipping the table over."
Serill barely gets the words out before Virro takes the opportunity to flip the table over like an angry diner He aims in the rough direction of the stream, though not with any great degree of precision or effort.
The table, marshmallows and cardboard sign go tumbling end over end.
And there is a deep, unhappy sound, like a sigh. A sigh accompanied by an incredible charnel stench, as though a Thousand graveyards and battlefields had breathed out. You find yourselves gagging at the stench, and the camel snorts and brays with sudden terror.
Menra detects an aura of Illusion -- not of an extremely high level, but larger than he might like -- at the same time that something invisible starts picking the sweets up ... then the dish ... and then the table. It is rather disconcerting to see the candies and the dish float in empty air while the table seemingly rights itself. Then the dish lands back on the tabletop, and the marshmallows are dropped onto the dish one by one by one.
Brycen picks up a small rock and gently lobs it in the direction of where a large invisible creature would have to stand to pick up the candies. If he doesn’t hit anything, he tries several more in slightly different directions.
The rock ... bounces off of something.
"What kind of childish games..."
As the table and everything are being put back Serill tries his best to ignore the smell and loads his crossbow. He aims for where a humanoid body could be in relation to the items floating and fires.
Virro spends a moment to read the sign.
"Well, at least THAT makes a bit more sense..... Guuuuggghhh! What the hell is that stench!?"
Virro takes a moment to recover, though he snaps to attention when he sees Serill arm a crossbow.
"Whoa, Whoa, WHOA!"