"If we come across anyone, it won't hurt to take them. Plus, I doubt those wolves will allow us back in anytime soon."
The stairs descend 20 feet into tunnels of old dwarven masonry, the magic from Inconnu’s stone lighting the way.
A dim orange glow can be glimpsed ahead.
The stairway opens into a large rectangular chamber. The stone walls of this area are covered with intricate carvings of dwarves toiling in mines or smithies. In the center of the chamber stands the bottom half of a broken obsidian obelisk. Crude picks, hammers, and other tools lie scattered around the chamber. Hallways open on your left, right, and straight ahead. The orange glow - and a faint warmth - originates from the room down the right-hand passage.
Inconnu continues moving forward staying alert for traps and secret doors as they head towards the orange glow.
The brief passage opens onto a large stone chamber.
The center is dominated by a deep pit filled with molten slag and sizzling blood that casts a hellish red gleam on the walls. Three narrow chutes open in the ceiling directly above the pit. The air here is oppressively hot and thick with ash.
Ancient, soot-choked vents above the molten pool are rife with flitting and crawling insects, the likes of which you have never seen on the surface. They retreat back into the recesses of the vents as you approach.
Micheo moves to cover the unexplored entrance.
"Better I block it, after all."
"Nothing her except a door so far." Inconnu checks the pit room for traps and secret doors.
In either chamber, no traps or lurking dangers are found.
Within the entrance hall, Micheo nudges aside shards of obsidian and cast aside tools with his foot. The tools show an interesting dichotomy: some are clearly very old and worn, despite once being well made. The others are much newer but of decidedly cruder construction. You reason that the kobolds have been using scavenged dwarven tools and ones of their own making to chisel away at this obelisk.
Micheo discovers runic writing engraved upon the surviving portions of the obelisk.
Those who will not work shall have
their blood boiled in the Dark Furnace
for all time… there is no decadent paradise
awaiting us after death, as our corrupt
forefathers claimed, only industrious
labor in Droskar’s Forge awaits the faithful,
this great work is its own reward…
the unfaithful, they will serve in the end,
their blood and bones shall stoke the fires
of our industry… the world will burn to
the glory of Droskar.”
Inconnu finds little more than a layer of detritus on the floor around the molten pit - rough bits of stone and slivers of old iron. However, he also observes a path worn through the debris by someone moving with slow, heavy steps. The path originates from the same way Inconnu came, circles the pit, then returns from whence it came.
The sturdy double doors at the one end of the room are made of thick, preserved wood. When Inconnu tests them, he finds that they are securely locked.
"It appears that the kobolds found old dwarven mining tools and have chipped away at this obelisk. The runes are dwarven, I do not understand them."
Inconnu returns to the others "The room I entered has tracks but they didn't go through the door. I think we should head east from this first room."
"Agreed."
"Let's tread carefully, as we don't know what is ahead."
' I can take a look at them runes. Give me a moment.' Dugan enters the obelisk room and reads the runes aloud to his companions. 'That Droskar fella sounds like a barrel of laughs.'
Torag and the rest of the dwarven pantheon espouse duty, honesty, integrity, and taking pride in creating something of worth. By contrast, Droskar's dogma preaches that sufficient toil leads to eventual success, and that those who fail simply weren't trying hard enough. In the pursuit of this goal, Droskar believes that one should be free to do whatever is necessary to accomplish one's goal, even if that includes lying, cheating, the exploitation of others, or even worse crimes.
Coupled with evidence found on the surface level of the monastery, you suspect that the old monks must have lost their faith and turned from Torag to Droskar, leading to the decline and decay of their order.
Moving eastward from the entrance hall and broken obelisk, you find yourselves in a four-way intersection of dusty hallways. Wisps of steam waft out from the chamber straight ahead, and you can hear running water within.
To your right, the south passage turns into a T-junction, with a rough brown object left heaped in its center.
The lefthand passage leads to another intersection, beyond which seems to sit some sort of old barracks or dormitory.
Ulark trudged along, his mind preoccupied wondering about this "Droskar" fellow. He really didn't seem like any deity worth worshiping. He glanced at Dugan, thinking about whether or not he should ask the dwarf about this. But Dugan didn't seem to know much either, and he didn't want to offend. And through it all, his mind kept wandering back to the skeletons they found chained up. Who were they? He had the creeping feeling that if he were better educated in theology, then the answers would be apparent.
"Quiet, something is happening on the left, and it may be attacking some kobolds."
Dugan walks deeper into the complex, lost in his thoughts. He halts abruptly at Jana's warning and draws his shield and battleaxe. He then moves to the front of the group to cover his friends.
Inconnu draws a javelin and waits to see if the source of the sizzling draws closer while he considers what he knows about Droskar.
"I know not of Droskar. But I will take your word for it Dugan."
He draws a javelin at the words of Jana.
An evil hiss rises from the darkness ahead.
A floating dwarven form, shrouded in silvery full plate, rounds the corner. The air about this dwarven specter shimmers eerily, and the walls and floor sizzle and smoke where it passes. The thing’s boots scorn the earth, gliding a full foot above the masonry floor. It drags a cruel bloodletter axe in the air behind it.
Seeing the...creature, Ulark scowled. He could feel in his bones that this was a force of evil. The type of monstrosity that his ancestors were created to destroy. Pushing back the fear, he allowed his righteous anger to take over. Bit by bit, Ulark’s features began to change, resembling that of his angelic ancestor. Much like back at town, he was about to go “axe-mad.”
Micheo sees the apparition, and his face hardens.
Vileness. It must be matched.
He is lost in his thoughts for precious moments, then cries out,
"Sarenrae! Grant me light to cast away this darkness!"
and moves to support the others in crushing the creature.
"What in the, is that thing?"
Once Inconnu is over his initial surprise he hurls his Javelin at the specter.
Dugan charges the floating dwarf on sight, boiling over with fervor as he rushes down the corridor.
Inconnu's javelin and Dugan's axe are both seemingly turned aside by some manner of shimmering field around the specter, but you hear brief sizzling hisses from the phantasmal contact.
The armor floats, yes, but not upon thin air - it is suspended within a massive, ambulatory mass of jelly or solid slime. Its transparent body, coupled with the sinister aspect of the empty armor, disguised its true nature from afar.
As a fleeting afterthought, you also notice that only the metal of the armor and axe are present. The leather straps and fittings are nowhere to be found. Were they dissolved? Or digested?
Of course, you have little time to appreciate this small detail as a large portion of the blob rears back and attempt to deliver an amorphous headbutt - one that you easily dodge, thankfully.
The ghostly creature seems to attack Dugan ahead, but he endures the spectral blow.
The hovering armor remains in place, apparently content to focus on Dugan.
Inconnu hurls another javelin at it hoping to breach it's shimmering shield.
Having moved into a flanking position, Micheo draws upon divine might and channels it into his sword arm - then strikes!
Going to the other flank, Ulark raised his axe and struck:
Striking with all of the force that his angelic blood could lend, the half-orc landed a solid blow.
Dugan's face redden's deeply as the strange creature attempts to bludgeon him. 'It ain't no armor!' He lashes out with a hard swing of his battleaxe.
"What do you mean it ain't no armour?"
'The armor's floating inside it!'
Joanne replies at the end with suprise.
"Oh ..... OH ....."
Dugan's revelation becomes all the more clear to Micheo and Ulark as they swing their weapons at the supposed ghost.
With sword and axe, the three warriors find their blows cleaving away clumps of caustic goo from the gelatinous mass containing the armor.
Inconnu's javelin sinks in and hangs in midair, much like the old armor and axe. However, Dugan, Micheo, and Ulark can see the wood of the projectile already begin to sizzle and dissolve, exposed to the acidic goo.
The quivering mass shudders and makes one last attempt to engulf Dugan like a living wave, but with a backswing of his battleaxe, he rends the strange foe like a split tree.
With one last spasm, the ghost that wasn't really collapses in a viscous heap of liquid that hisses angrily as it spreads across the tunnel floor. The armor and axe, formerly entrapped within, fall to the ground with an almost chiming clatter.
Freed from its prison, the axe - locked to the armor's gauntlet - begins to shed a corona of golden light.
Cautiously examining the old relics, lest some of the lingering slime burn you, you observe much artful embellishments upon the silvery armor, and even personal runes inscribed on the steel haft of the weapon - bearing the name "Glintaxe."
Ballad of the Glintaxe
Glintaxe, mighty hero of the dwarven race,
Seeker of heirlooms lost without trace,
He ventured the deeps where old evil sleeps
He perished in the halls of some dark place.
His restless spirit still stalks the night,
His shining axe still glows bright,
I’ve seen his ghost, and this is no boast,
I’ve ne’er laid eyes on a more fearful sight.
After the cube melts into a puddle Joanne looks at the loot a bit back
"So any idea what that thing was?"
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Inconnu ignores the question and indeed the suits of Mithral his eyes fixed on the axe and whispers "Glintaxe..."
He takes a deep breath before reciting part of the ballad.
"Glintaxe, mighty hero of the dwarven race,
Seeker of heirlooms lost without trace,
He ventured the deeps where old evil sleeps
He perished in the halls of some dark place.
His restless spirit still stalks the night,
His shining axe still glows bright,
I’ve seen his ghost, and this is no boast,
I’ve ne’er laid eyes on a more fearful sight."
He turns to the others. "These are the belongings of a true champion. If we take up his arms we are honour bound to attempt complete his final quest in my mind. If he believed this place held an ancient dwarven relic then we should search this place for it." He picked up the axe and turned holding the end of it's haft to Dugan "Glintaxe's tale has a grim end but you can add a new verse to his ballad, how Dugan Shieldcrusher completed completed the final quest. Do this and you'll earn a small place in the legends of your people spoken of in pride long after you are gone." Inconnu's hands shake as he holds the axe out Dugan to claim, clearly taking the gravity of the moment seriously.
Micheo turns to Dugan.
"Dugan, it makes sense to me that you should take up the axe and armour."
Dugan reaches out and grips the axe-haft, staring down at the softly glowing weapon. In an oft unused soft voice he says 'I'd be proud to take up the task of a story hero.' He takes the axe from Inconnu and runs a hand over the head. 'I ud avsluta din iseth, alud'
He turns to his companions with tears in the corners of his eye and says in a froced gruff voice, 'If someone can help me get this tin can on, we can drive out these kobolds'
Ulark helped Dugan into the armor. ”This dwarf had a worthy quest. I am glad to see you take up the mantle.”
The fact that the armor resisted both time and the ooze creature's acidic body is a testament to the talented artisans who formed and fitted the light yet strong plates.
As Ulark and Micheo aid Dugan in donning this gift from the past, Inconnu and Joanne keep watch and scan the dark tunnels ahead and beside you.
To your left opens a spartan barracks, unadorned other than the rows of uncomfortable-looking stone beds.
Straight ahead, the long tunnel seems to lead to a wide chamber hosting several large stone tables - likely a mess hall.
After assisting Dugan's arming, Micheo keeps watch over the corridor leading to the east.
Dugan tests the weight of his new armor a bit and finds it a bit uncomfortable, but not too bad. He points toward the bunk room with his axe. 'Let's make sure there's none hiding in here to sneak up behind us.'
He makes his way into the room and gives it a thorough survey.
Inconnu moves up beside the far more impressive looking Dugan casting light from his sword. "You look quite dashing and heroic. Perhaps I should try to get some breastplate made of mithral!"
"I wish I could afford armour, but it is also so restrictive that I would have a harder fighting or moving in it.
Heck it would be hard even finding armour in my size."
Thick layers of dust coat the stone beds and much of the floor in the otherwise barren barracks. Some manner of bat or bird is spooked by Dugan's now much more metallic entrance, and it flies out of the room and down the hall in search of safety.
Small footprints in the dust indicate that many kobolds have ventured into this room before, but the dust that has begun to rebury those prints suggests that they have not been in here in quite some time.
Inconnu and Joanne tilt their heads and motion for silence, as their ears pick up distant sounds floating down from the long hallway.