Justahl seizes his chance as the creature vomited flies at the strange disembodied shadow.
He pulls mightily, trying to get the student free of the daemonic grip.
Strength Check:
@Sir Justahl: Pulling with all your might, you still cannot wrench the girl free from the determined Leukodaemon. She whimpers in pain and tries to speak; "N...no...ouch...sir, please...it hurts...it...AAAAAAAAHHHHHG!" She screams as both her shoulders are dislocated with a sickening crunch and pop. She goes limp, then, from shock.
Jorzan quickly recounts the tale with the Titan and then, again holding on tightly, pulls out the medallion, asking "Can any of you make anything of this? Are there any emenations, magical, evil or otherwise that you can detect about? And how about these other passages, have any of them been explored as yet? As for us, I think our next destination in down."
And, making sure not to step too close, what with the pulling of the medallion, Jorzan has another look down the seemingly bottomless chasm.
Perception: Taking 20 (if possible, +14 if not)
Nasmarra stares out the window atop the Great Tower for an amount of time that would cause an elf to become impatient. She does not acknowledge the Warbanian, though it has nothing to do with her distaste for the reckless people. She hears his boots shuffling impatiently outside, waiting for her response. Finally, with a muttered curse in his native tongue, the warriors stalks off without any sort of response. In her time roaming the halls, she had overheard a wager between the Warbanian guards if she even existed. She would do little to halt this belief. Only one had seen her personally, and his story was met with accusations of lying and a brief but brutal fist fight. The others came to a conclusion that it was a long-term prank of the dragons.
The True Tower calls to her, a faint arcane thrum in her subconscious. In each of her lives, it was the True Tower that drew her to Stormfare. Her Eighth Regeneration theorized in his journal that it was perhaps linked to the regeneration process itself. Her eyes shift over to the shelf of books containing the collected history of each of the previous reincarnations, Two through Fifteen (except for the Tenth). Nasmarra, in the Sixteenth regeneration of her long life. Any historian of the University would kill for such a wealth of information.
On her desk, half a dozen academic papers lay marked and noted. All papers pertaining to arcane and divine magic, Nasmarra's hand-written addendum exploring the themes explored in the papers. Van-Haera was kind enough to send copies of the most promising papers. While her most immediate reincarnation wrote effusively of the dragon, Nasmarra's relationship with all the dragons is much cooler and more withdrawn.
Finally, as the city's chaos unfolds far below, Nasmarra moves. She takes her time exiting the room. It is warded with powerful spells, the collection of the vast magical talents of her prior Fifteen reincarnations. Some were powerful wizards and sorcerers, others wise and mighty clerics and oracles. Her Tenth regeneration had even been drawn to nature as a druid. As a result, her wards are quite strong and esoteric, all hiding the repository of her collected life's work through the ages. No one, as far as she could tell, had ever both entered her sanctum and seen its true contents. A few curious wizards had breached the physical location, and others seen through its illusionary concealment, but none had ever thoroughly mastered all the wards except her by their very design.
Nasmarra gracefully strides down the hallway to the staircase that will take her to the library. Even though she has not adopted the ghostly guise she uses when haunting the halls, she has an eerie, hypnotic stride that seems closer to floating than walking. The halls are deserted, likely because the students are outside trying to get a closer look at the chaos. She sighs at their morbidity and curiosity, unable to understand their impulsive mindsets.
No one notices her as she walks to the library. She arrives at the cavernous library chamber, nearly as large as the Dragon Hall itself. She announces herself in her voice, equal parts silk and icewater. "Strange events unfold outside the walls, Librarian." Her voice swirls with hidden meanings and whispered promises. While such a voice would seem sultry from the throat of a normal woman, it carries a sense of unsettling and darkly seductive power. Her dark blue hair and skin as white as bleached bone lend a dark beauty, but it is her voice that is truly hypnotic.
Jorzan quickly recounts the tale with the Titan and then, again holding on tightly, pulls out the medallion, asking "Can any of you make anything of this? Are there any emenations, magical, evil or otherwise that you can detect about? And how about these other passages, have any of them been explored as yet? As for us, I think our next destination in down."
The paladin sergeant looks taken aback at Jorzan's brusque, rapid-fire questions. "Beg your pardon, sir, but if it wasn't clear by our dress, we're not mages. Can't say much of anything about your trinket, there, except I see no evil coming off it. And I don't know which passages you're exactly referring to, but this place has more tunnels than an ant colony and we didn't come down here to explore. We're on our way back to our barracks and to help the city for now, we can come back and map all this later, when we can do so with the proper equipment, and the proper numbers." He gives the impetuous young rogue a flinty look, then addresses both him and Kelne. "I can leave a couple men here for backup if you think it'll help, especially since your winged friends have gone to assist others."
And, making sure not to step too close, what with the pulling of the medallion, Jorzan has another look down the seemingly bottomless chasm.
The pit is dark; the bottom is not visible. You see nothing.
Lin came gliding in, claws crackling with arcane energy as she prepared to strike her demonic foe. THen she felt something lurch, a stabbing pain deep in her breast and locked up before the strike connected. As her mind reeled she couldn't help but feel as if something terrible had happened to Min, she circled in the pit getting ready to come back around and strike at the demon once more.
"No, I think you're better off getting topside and giving whatever aid you can there," Kelne said, "We're going to have to go deeper, since according to the cryptic lady down the tunnel there's more trouble brewing below, but we'll make our own way back up again, and frankly I think you're right about full explorations waiting until there's time for it." He suspected there'd be a lot of interested parties gathering come daylight, and they could map and explore the complex to their hearts' content.
"Let's go, Jorzan," he concluded, holding his hand out for the ring, preparatory to the two of them taking the plunge again.
@Lin, @Tora'an, @Justahl, @Hurin:The Leukodaemon does not react favorably to the sudden presence of a celestial pegasus lord and a silver dragon around it. Between Tora'an's attack and Zan's insistent energy drain, the thing lets loose a snarl, drops a bit of altitude, and vanishes into thin air. Teleported, no doubt, or something similar.
Without the daemon tugging on her, Justahl is easily able to pull the poor girl up, her breathing shallow and sweat beading on her forehead. The purple-and-silver clad guard made a run for it as soon as Tora'an and Lin showed up, and is now nowhere to be seen.
@Kelne and @Jorzan: The paladin nods and his men head for the passage that leads back up to the surface. Meanwhile you two begin your descent.
At first it is dark; you pass a couple caverns, a couple strange pockets of air, a couple more large empty rooms like the one you left, but then it is just hundreds of feet of rock. Eventually a very faint light becomes apparent ahead of you, a dim purplish glow that is eventually joined with a greenish glow. The sound of water becomes audible; a great, roaring rush like a river. Approaching with caution, you slowly become aware of an utter mess. About 150' below you, at the very edge of vision, you see dozens of corpses, all humanoid and of various sizes. They are lying on the bank of an underground rapids and are surrounded by heaps of rubble, fragments of stone, ruined weapons, other things. Detritus from the collapse, no doubt.
Off a bit to the side, one leg partially submerged in the river, is a robed figure; he is about 14' tall, you'd guess, but seems to be slowly shrinking before your eyes. His clothes are rich, royal purple and silver and he seems to be glowing slightly. To get more details, you will have to descent further.
Jorzan's medallion is tugging in the direction of this tall humanoid in lush, expensive robes. Something about him makes Jorzan's stomach lurch and heart sink. Something...familiar, something from the past...
Sir Justahl snarled with dissappointment as the daemon vanished. He had one Smite left and that thing would have been the perfect recipient.
He pulled the girl up with the other students help and laid her down, trying to keep her arms in their proper position.
Then he Laid on Hands, healing damage and removing any Shaken or Diseased conditions.
Looking around at the students, he asked; "Is anyone else hurt?" He also looked around for other threats.
@Justahl: As your healing magic washes over her, the girl sighs and relaxes, and her eyes snap to focus. Looking up at you, she smiles. "Th-thank you, sir. I...I am grateful." The other students, wowed by the presence of Tora'an and Lin simultaneously, all start talking at once, regaling you with the tale of how they were coming back from a party and a hole just opened up right under their feet and then that thing came flying up, like it was meant to be their end. All of them are a bit hysterical, but clearly relieved.
Jorzan merely looks back at the Paladine, allowing Kelne to answer for him. The man had mistook his meaning, but now was not the time for apologies and explanations. Should they all survive, there'd be time for such things later.
Slipping off his ring and hopping on the big warriors back once again, Jorzan holds on tightly with his legs and draws his bow, nocking a razortusk arrow. With his darkvision allowing him to pierce the darkness, he keeps a sharp eye out for danger or anything of interest. As they pass the many layers of rock he cannot help but think that they're would be several scholars he knew of who would give almost anything to be seeing this right now.
Perception: w/Darkvision
As they descend further and come upon the carnage, he trains his eyes upon the scene below them, arrow looking for any threat. As the spy the figure in purple and silver the shadowdancer growls unconsciously as the now familiar feeling of sunken memories swimming up to the surface comes upon him again.
Clamping down on his feelings he tries to remain sharp and focused. As they finally land, he keeps his arrow focused on the familiar figure while he wracks his brain for any shred of helpful knowlwdge. He also looks to see if the large, shrinking figure still lives.
Perception:
K Dungeoneering:
K Local (+3 for Izma, Varna & Stormfare):
K Arcana (non CS):
K Geography:
Heal:
@Jorzan and @Kelne: As you traverse the last 150' down, you become aware of a sound separate from the rushing water. You're not sure what it is, but there's something...
The last 100' is open; you have crossed down through the ceiling of a massive cavern whose existence was opaque to you due to the cylindrical nature of the pit in which you were descending, though Jorzan guessed something like it was down here based on his dungeoneering experience. As you gently float down, you see that in one direction, the river goes back up into the rocks, disappearing into darkness and stone. In the other direction, however...in the other direction is a marvel.
The river rushes on another 100' or so and then plummets over a falls, and looking out over the falls, you see a magnificent and eerie vista, an entire underground city, lit by glowing lichen and other plants -- the green glow that you noticed on the way down -- stretches for miles out beneath you. Judging by the distance, you are currently about 200' up above the actual floor of the main cavern where the city is. Whatever this place is, it is far larger than even Olmskoldsv, though not nearly as architecturally accomplished. No, the wonder of this place is entirely natural. Massive strange trees with trunks wide as houses stretch up for hundreds of feet, tiny houses dotting their branches. Rice paddies and streams and woods all interweave on the landscape, like a bizarre, dark reflection of the world above.
Moving carefully to the edge of the falls, you see a couple well-worn stairwells carved into the rock on either side, leading down. It is from here the strange sound is emanating; massive search parties consisting of strange, dark humanoids are way down at the bottom, beginning to climb up, their footsteps and tools making weird *tink*ing noises on the rock.
Drow. Dozens of them.
Both of you are aware of legends of cities under the great cities of the land, and of ancient civilizations that supposedly existed under Stormfare in particular at one time, but this is a total surprise; to find a massive city populated by drow and who-knows-what else, right under Stormfare (though granted it's way, way under the city), is a tremendous and terrible find, and now there is a big vertical shaft leading them straight up to the Stormfare itself.
@Jorzan:
After taking stock of things, you move closer to the large figure, who is still shrinking. The medallion continues to tug ferociously towards him. Tickles of memory continue to taunt your brain, but you can't tease meaning from them. Those robes...something...
As you get close to him, your keen eyes on the ground around you a couple good weapons and a few pouches that probably have money in them; prizes to claim after you've dealt with this. The figure continues to shrink, and is normal human size by the time you reach him, your weapon at the ready. He makes a groaning sound and slowly starts to turn over. There is a hideous, burned, gaping maw in his chest where his heart should be. His black hair is covering his face and suddenly it comes to you, a flash of pain and twisting fear; BAL-ZAT!
Involuntarily you take a step back, but no; it is not Bal-zat. Your father-creator is destroyed, isn't he? This...being rolls onto his back and looks at you with sad eyes and your steely resolve renews itself as you see a familiar face looking back at you. He is clad in the robes of Bal-zat, wearing his livery, but he is not him.
Looking up at you from the sand, a hole punched through his torso, is Camor.
"Ah, Raznoj. F-forgive me, brother." His voice is little more than a whisper, the crazed lilt and gleaming eyes you remember from your visit with him in his ramshackle house in the village on the shore of Crystal Lake reduced to a bare rasp and glassy stare. "I was not...w-was not strong enough. When HE came, I fell, and did his bidding. I die happy, knowing he -- I -- failed." He smiles sadly up at you, a miserable and dying old madman.
In your pocket, the medallion is going berserk.
Her voice boomed in the hole, she righteous anger resounding for at least a mile in every direction. She scanned the hole as she bellowed to her comrade. Lin searches the hole for anyother survivors and then helps carry them to safety if she can.
Watching the scene unfold before him Hurin sees that not only is it a rescue, it is a Paladin rescueing a young woman and working his healing magic upon her.
That sinister looking man with the drawn sword might have something to do with sinkholes opening up all over the city, certainly sneaking up on a Paladin couldn't make him one of the good guys right? Besides a good raging charge shield bash would really help out with all this pent up frustration of always being wet in this city and the seemingly rampant disregard for proper brewing techniques! Blindsiding him would give the man a taste of his own medicine.
Shrugging his left shoulder Hurin's QuickDraw Darkwood shield slid down his arm and into position. He flexed his left fist on the leather strap and smiled at the creaking sound of it. His right hand reinforced the rim.
His short stumpy legs began to pump wildly as he picked up steam to deliver a charging two handed power attack shield bash to the creeping assassin.
Roaring with the satisfaction of a hit worthy of a pitcher of Old Smokey Marzin Hurin swept his arm and body through his target,
Whoo! Hoo! don't be tippy toeing up on a paladin with your sword out son! You just did it so I had to hit it!
Astar stepped carefully towards the congregation, casually looping his weapon's cord around his wrist. This was definitely an oddity, and he wasn't sure if it needed to be attributed to malice or mistake.
He paused a moment to consider the ghosts crushing against this room. This entire scene most definitely required some level of procedure.
(Perception):
He looked down at his boots, and the glittery trail he'd just dragged them through. This couldn't just be some advanced form of streaking, could it? If so, following the trail down the stairs would simply play into the mischief maker's hands.
Regardless, the more pressing matter was, truly, the ghosts pressing against this room; to say nothing of the apparently injured person inside of it. He drew nearer to the door, shoulder to shoulder with the ghosts.
"Greetings! This is Astar, and I was wondering if you needed assistance. There is an unusually large mass of ghosts and such gathering, in case you're unaware."
He glanced around at the absurdity piling up around him.
"I can't help but get the notion you are, though, so please open the door, or I'll have to assume the justification for entry."
@Gray: from outside the door, you hear Astar speaking. His voice is unfamiliar to you, but does not sound unfriendly.
@Lin, @Tora'an, @Justahl: There are, thankfully, no more injured or endangered people in the immediate vicinity. However, you all are surprised at the sound of a lusty battle-cry and the distinct *K-SLAMM!* of someone getting hit with a shield or other large, flat object. Spinning around, wepaons ready, you see a fiercely grinning dwarf standing by the guard who had earlier been accompanying Justahl. From their positions, it's pretty clear they're fighting, and it's pretty clear the purple-and-silver clad guard is losing.
The guard looks at the three of you, then looks at the dwarf, then makes an imploring gesture towards Justahl. "This dwarf just attacked me! Help!"
Oh! First you try to skewer him when his back is turned and now you ask him to save your dishonorable scrawny neck! Throw down your weapon and surrender or I'll cuff your ears a second time! I won't give you a second chance, but that's more chance than you were giving the young lass if you gutted that knight while he lifted her to safety and worked his healing on her! . . . On second thought if you decide not to surrender yourself that is just fine with me, I'll make it quick and you won't be wasting anymore of our air! So what will it be? Do you surrender or do I haveta put the boots to ya!
@Hurin: The guard looks at you incredulously. "Surrender?! What?! You're not the police! Who do you think you are?" He once again turns to the pegasus, the dragon, and the others. "Are you hearing this nutcase? What is this? Anyway, I'm glad the kids are safe. I'll just be on my way, now! I've left my post untended for too long." His weapon is sheathed, and he slowly turns and starts to walk away.
Frowning at the Dwarf, then the guard, Sir Justahl starts shoving the students towards their school dorm.
"Ladies, get to your quarters and fort up. I think this is some kind of attack and I don't want you in the middle of the fight that will be coming if I'm right. Go. Go!"
Diplomacy:
"Now, what's all this about stabbing me in the back?"
Wondering at angry dwarf's words and the guard's peculiar actions, Sir Justahl will use the quickened Detect Evil on the dwarf and the guard in turn. He lays his hand on his warhammer, but does not draw yet.
Sense Motive (Dwarf):
Sense Motive (Guard):
As Sir Justahl looks carefully between the dwarf and the slowly retreating human, the co-eds all scamper back up the hill towards the university.
@Nasmarra: Van-Haera inclines her head respectfully when you walk in. "Greetings, scholar. Thank you for answering my summons."
The librarian's office is as neat and organized and overstuffed as always. She likes to joke that while most of her kind hoard treasure, she hoards books and scrolls and tapestries and information. Giant bookshelves 50' high are teeming with volume after volume of history, lore, legend, magic, mundanity -- all manner of knowledge. A few desks dot the space, places for interns and grad students to work under the tutelage of the wise old brass dragon. At one of these desks sit two human children; a boy and a girl. The boy looks badly hurt but recently healed, his chest covered in bandages and a tenderness when he walks betray this fact. Judging by her eyes, the girl is blind. They both look up at you when you walk in, and the girl walks over to you. She appears to be looking at you; at you, and all around you at the same time. She nods solemnly and reaches out to touch the hem of your dress. "You're very pretty this time." she says. "Why are you so many? Are you going to come with, now?" The boy smiles indulgently and Van-Haera watches closely.
"Right then, have it your way!"
Attacking to subdue
Two handed shield bashes
Boot stomp
"and as far as who I am, I am Hurin Sundershield, son of Helgrund of the Iron Hills! My ancestors are watching and by insulting me you have shown them disrespect as well! I will not have a backstabber question my word! "
If he is knocked unconscious I will sling my shield back on my back and drag him over to the knight.
Grumbling out loud
"Ghosts and specters and shades flying about, sinkholes opening up underfoot, dirtbags back stabbing paladins! Hurrrumph! This place is almost as bad as fighting dragons and skeletons in the vampire Orimar's keep!"
@Justahl, @Lin, @Tora'an, @Hurin: Before anyone else can do anything, the dwarf abruptly attacks the guard with his shield, smashing him to the ground and delivering a brutal kick to the head. The man is instantly knocked unconscious, a trickle of blood running across his forehead. He appears to still be alive, but he won't enjoy waking up, whenever he does.
The dwarf starts to drag his bloody trophy over to you.
"You know, I believe him; Sir Justahl points at the Dwarf. "And I don't believe, you. So. What was your game? Who are you and why were you guarding that... tower thing?"
Sir Justahl approaches with a deliberate pace, hand on his warhammer.
Lin lands heavily, simply taking the easier path instead of graceful flight, her impact causes the unconscious body to jump slightly. She regards the downed guard with cold disdain.
Looking at Justahl she nods towards the students. She lets the offer hand in the air as she watches the students stumble off to their dorms.
"Whoa! Hey . . . Phew! Wow, for a second there I thought you were a white dragon looking to settle a score. Your thanks is not necessary, but much appreciated. If this is one of the local guards I might need for you or the knight here to vouch for my actions. I am new to town. I ah . . . er . . . Literally dropped into town a little bit ago and I haven't had a chance to figure out who is what around here, but an assassin looking to put a blade in someone's back looks about the same just anywhere I recon.
With a gaping hole in his chest where his heart should be, the man clearly wasn't long for this world. Then again, by any sensible measure, he ought to be dead already. Most likely, some residue of whatever magics he'd had worked on him was keeping him here for the moment, but that would soon come to an end, he was sure.
Neither of them had any healing at their disposal that would fix a missing heart, so it was imperative that he pass on whatever information he could before he finally succumbed to his wound. From what he'd learned in Jorzan's company, it was obvious who 'He' had to be, but just what Bal-Zat had been trying to accomplish was still very much unknown.
Kelne knelt down by the man, "I can see you don't have much time, friend," he said, "But anything you can tell us about Bal-Zat's plans would be appreciated. We also need to know if there's anything down here we should secure before it falls into the wrong hands and, if you can tell us, why that amulet Jorzan's been carying around was so determined to get down here." He nodded to Jorzan to bring out the amulet for inspection, hoping he'd understand the need to put practicality first under the circumstances.
Dropping the stunned guard at the paladins feet, Hurin dusts off his hands as hIs eye catches on the knights war hammer.
"Nice weapon you've got there. Fine workmanship. . . Well, I am guessing you might be the law around here or you are at least aquatinted with those who are. I saw what you did for that young lass over there. You put your life in danger for it and I respect that. I am betting her dad somewhere would trade his life for what you did. I ah . . . Well anyway look at me sitting here jaw jacking. Looking around it seems our troubles are far from over and I think my tavern room I had spent my last bit of coin on just collapsed into a sinkhole.
Heh, a knight, a dragon and a pegasus. I guess one of you might have the answer about what our next course of action should be. If you are planning to do something about it, then I'd like to throw my axe and shield in with your lot."
The moment the daemon disappears, Zan looks briefly at the Paladine, Dragon and Pegasus and, without any discernable farewell whatsoever, immediately heads off at top speed on a beeline towards it's distant master.
@Tora'an, @Lin, @Hurin: Justahl makes a dismissive gesture and his appearance completely changes; his hair turns bright and shiny and lustrous, his face becomes crushingly handsome, the scar vanishes, and he is taller and broader. His armor is also much more well-hewn, his weapons likewise.
The paladin notes Zan's departure but thinks nothing of it, assuming the eerie creature is simply off to find Jorzan. He looks at all of you. "I believe the students will be fine, but we can shadow them anyway since our next point of action is to get back up to the quad and re-join with Ca-" He cuts himself off and gives a worried glance to Hurin. "-our companions.", he corrects himself. "Master Hurin, I thank you for your aid and your kind words alike. Can you ride, or at least hang on? If so, master Tora'an may be willing to convey you up the hill to the quad while I take flight with silvery Lin, here, to speed things up and get us back to our meeting point. There we may discuss what we're all doing next, and learn a bit more about you, master dwarf."
Making sure to stay hidden from a chance view from below, his eyes gaping wide in awe and no little concern, Jorzan takes in the magnificent and terrible vista before him, his trained scout's mind trying to memorize every detail for the urgent report they'll have to make later on. He also frowns down at the approaching drow, trying to accurately guage how long they have until the closest search party arrives.
As they move back to the figure and it is revealed to me Camor Jorzan instantly drops to one knee, placing a comforting hand on the dying man's shoulder, and givng it a gentle squeeze. There are many things he wishes to say to this man who is one of the closest things to a brother he has ever known, but a knot in his throat seems to prevent him from speaking.
When Kelne asks his questions, Jorzan nods and, once again holding it tightly, brings out the medallion so Camor can see it. The only thing he adds is almost a whisper "What happened Camor?"
Tora'an, silent until now, snorts loudly, clearly insulted. Carrying a male on his back was one thing, but an unknown Dwarven male, never!
Stepping up to Justahl, the Celestial Pegasus Lord makes it crystal clear by his fierce look and proud body language that the Paladine, and no other, will be permitted to ride him.
@Jorzan and @Kelne: You two guess that you have maybe 20 minutes before the drow reach the top of the difficult and slippery climb to the to of the falls.
Camor is about to respond, but as soon as he sees the medallion, his whole focus turns to it. The medallion stops vibrating and kicking and instead glows a rich, silvery purple color. Camor looks strangely relieved. You both notice that one of the five purple stones around the rim of the thing is glowing, something you hadn't seen before.
In a voice soft and raspy, Camor looks at Jorzan and says "Oh good. You have it. He tried, brother, to come back Through, but he was thwarted, thwarted by..." Suddenly Camor dissolves before your eyes, turning into pure light. As the cloud of light that was Camor is sucked forward into the medallion, his last words linger in the air; "Don't let him have the medallion, Jorzan. He needs it..."
Camor is gone, and now two stones on the medallion are glowing.
Behind you, the drow continue to climb.
Jorzan sits back on his haunches, for a moment stunned at what just transpired, Camor being sucked into the medallion the last thing he expected. Recovering quickly though he rises and this time carefully places the medallion in a secure pocket under his vest and armor, whispering "Farewell brother. And I swear to you, I shall never let him have it!"
He then begins looking all around at the bodies and battle scene, picking up anything of remote interest and comparing notes with Kelne on what might have happened there.
Making sure to leave ample time before the drow arrive, he turns to Kelne "Well, unless there's anything else you'd like to do, I suggest we start figuring out how to get out of here."
Hurin is made slightly uneasy with the sudden shape change the paladin goes through, but the man is traveling with a silver dragon and that says a lot.
"Aye, I can ride, I am no city dwarf. I've ridden a fair few mules and ponies in my day, but it looks like your steed is awful partial to you there. If Lin would have me I would be much obliged, but if we are to walk I'll have you know I am just as fast as any man and faster than most even when carrying a heavy load."
"As far as learnIng more about me, I think you'll find me fairly open for one of my kind, but perhaps I could at least know your name first. Also we have this prisoner here, what should we be doing about him?"
"Also, does anyone have any idea what is going on around here? I left my city which was under attack, by the red dragon flight, to another city to find it under siege by the white dragon flight, now I find myself here and find it under attack by seemingly even more unsavory enemies."
Lin blinks as Justahl removes his magical disguise, blinking for a moment longer before saying. "Well that is better! You should know that Tora'an won't carry anyone who isn't a woman but I am used to carrying two people at a time, so it really is no issue for me to carry the both of you if needed."
Hurin's words shake her to the core. "Something needs to be done or the dragonflights will conquer us all... We need to make a stand somewhere other then Izmir. We need to drive them Back. But wait... How did you travel so quickly Master Hurin?"
Tora'an looks to Lin gratefully at her words, and the stallion visibly relaxes at not having to carry a male, even if it was a half-celestial.
Looking once again in silent communication to Lin, Tora'an runs and leaps into the sky, circling high to scout the way ahead, keen senses scannoing for any further dangers or innocents in desperate need of he'llp. While doing so he flies a holding pattern as he waits for Lin and her passengers.
Perception:
"That's straightforward enough," Kelne pointed out, fishing out one of the teleport scrolls they'd been given by Van Haera, "Loathe as I am to use one of these over a short distance, I don't fancy trying to ascend gods know how many uncharted tunnels with a pack of angry drow on my heels." If he'd had a direct, traversable route up, he'd use it, but with an entire damn city down here, it was a good bet any route had, previously, been long, winding and branching, so as to avoid unexpected visitors.
Smiling ruefully in self-recrimination at himself for allowing recent events, no matter incredible they had been, to cause him to forgot that both he had Kelne had a means of easy egress in their possession, Jorzan replies simply "That'll work. You take care of the scroll while I finish sorting through all this stuff and trying to figure out what happened here."
Smiling ruefully in self-recrimination at himself for allowing recent events, no matter incredible they had been, to cause him to forgot that both he had Kelne had a means of easy egress in their possession, Jorzan replies simply "That'll work. You take care of the scroll while I finish sorting through all this stuff and trying to figure out what happened here."
@Kelne and @Jorzan:
You find four magic wands, a magic rod, a scroll case with some kind of involved essay or story on it in a language neither of you recognizes immediately, two scroll cases with some kind of actual magic scroll in them, two composite longbows that appear to be both magically enhanced and strength-rated, 14 arrows tipped with strange capsules that are clearly NOT of Enhathladi design, three magic longswords, a ring with some kind of arcane inscription and a beautiful lapis stone set in the top, five pairs of manacles, all with magic inscriptions on them and runes in Abyssal, a magic glaive with infernal runes on it, an amulet which may or may not be magic but it sure looks fancy, a disgusting bracelet that appears to be made out of preserved human fingers with runes burned into the flesh, and a silvery bracelet with arcane characters and religious symbols on it. Lastly, you find a half-dozen coin purses with about 12,000gp worth of precious gems and coins.
Aside from loot, you see that all the bodies are human, half-orc, and half-elf, and most of them died from the fall, though three of them were dead long before they hit the ground, all possessing the same gaping chest wound as Camor, and one having been burned to a crisp. That particular corpse is so ruined you can't even tell whether it was human or elven or what. There are a dozen or so bodies total down here, but it's very likely that more were involved, their corpses having been lost on other levels on the way down, or washed away by the river.
There are the distinct eldritch burn marks left by disintigrating daemons, so clearly some of them were involved, and while a lot of the rubble is just regular rock, there are a few very fine and polished slabs of marble, probably examination or sacrifice tables. There is also a small obelisk, about two feet high and a foot in diameter at the base, tapering to just a few inches wide at the tip. Jorzan immediately recognizes Bal-Zat's symbol of power etched on each face of the pyramid-tip of the obelisk. This stone is fairly old, though you cannot determine the exact date in the short time you have with it. Jorzan remembers his father-creator using these stones in magic rituals.