Vic examines the construction of the caverns as they proceed. While it is certainly no substitute for the woodlands of the surface, it is certainly more welcoming than anything down here that he has experienced in quite some time.
Khaz made his way straight to the caverns of clatter. His damaged hammer was gripped firmly in his hand. He had only one goal in mind. Ignoring the stares from the deep gnomes, he went right to the sound of the forge.
"Gnomish smiths! I'm in need o' ye facilities. Was told to find Plucky Tinderfiddler by ye guards. Think they meant I could use his forge. So point me in the right direction, an' I'll get out o' ye hair right quick."
With the mad chase finally over, Gael relaxed among the cheerful gnomes. Sure he still had to find his way back up to the surface but there was no real hurry now.
Gael took a deep breath; life was good.
Edlethron watches the dwarf thinking with his hammer storm off.
Then, the wood elf claps the captain on the shoulder and suggests that they get a drink.
Everyone level up to 4th!
Kriv, Froog : Ruby in the Rough Temple
Despite the desecration of the drow invasion and the decades of scavenging and raiding in its aftermath, the old city’s honored dead still rest securely in the catacombs beneath the temple. A passage on the east side of the cavern leads down into this network of small linked caverns accessible only through the temple. These catacombs are built along a mostly regular grid, making it easy for you to find your way among standing statues and funerary niches.
You see a svirfneblin with a red bandana kneeling down next to a brass lantern on the far side of the passage. But when you approach, the figure stands and walks through the wall before you can even offer greetings.
Khaz : Caves of Clatter
This cluster of caverns on the eastern end of the settlement serves as a workspace for weaponsmiths and armorsmiths. Traditional svirfneblin arms (apparently including picks, darts, and daggers, along with ring mail, scale mail, and chain mail shirts) are forged and traded here. You get the sense less common equipment such as swords and shields can be custom ordered.
At the shout, everyone goes quiet a bit dumbfounded before a deep gnome child shouts "Plucky! A half naked surfacer is looking for you!"
A cordial voice returns "Of course! The heat must be too much for him, send him in, send him in!"
Plucky's forge is no match for a dwarf, but still respectable. If nothing else it is probably the cleanest and most organized workspace you've encountered. He examines the hammer "Oh no no no, shame! This looks like a pudding splash if Im not mistaken? *tsk tsk* Silver is a highly reactive metal..." he thinks for a moment "Ever taste a chocolate covered fung-fruit? Fruit on the inside, chocolate on the outside. Thats what you need, silver on the inside to keep its heft, adamantine on the outside! Or mithral even, much better than silver..."
If not interested he acquieses and allows you to use the forge for free, as long as he gets to watch and you provide the silver.
Cade, Gael, Ed, Vic, NPCs : The Foaming Mug
The Foaming Mug appears to be an inn built specifically for foreign guests visiting Blingdenstone, built of dark stained Zurkwood and lit with a variety of colored glass lamps. Tappy Foamstrap gives you the tour: its main appeal looks like 2 large hotsprings used for bathing and relaxation. The tavern serves Darklake Stout, a delicious ale imported from the Duergar of Mantol-Derith. There doesn't seem to be any other guests, but she mentions locals frequent the taproom after work.
Then you see it.
A bed. A tidy, clean, sized for medium, bed!
"...thats just about that! Why don't you get cleaned up, no offense but youve the stink of the damned! Come down later and I'll fix you a little something for supper!" apparently surfacers arriving here is the most exciting thing that's happened to her in months.
After seeing the ghost, Kriv turns and grins at Froog.
"Huh, what do you know, I do scare ghost's."
"I didn't think they were serious! Are you sure about this Kriv?" Froog hides behind Kriv like that would stop a ghost.
"I'am sure the ghost's are just as scared of you Froog as you are off them, just don't annoy them and we will be fine."
Kriv continues forward at a leasurly pace looking the place over as he goes out of curiosity.
Cade's eyes almost tear up at the idea of being clean. "Um a bath. Yes please." He looks to the others in the group. "Do we have money? What's the split these days."
"Aye, I'll have a bath, warm meal and a bed in that order, my lady." Edlethron politely orders in Undercommon. "Would you by chance have a laundry while we bathe?"
"If you say so. Onward I guess. I hope we find this Shroomlight soon."
Kriv, Froog : Ruby in the Rough Temple
You meander about the grid a few more minutes, mindful of ghosts, until you begin to hear a periodic *clang* like a bell. There it is again.
Coming across another svirfneblin in a bright blue robe, you might second guess your assumption that he is a member of the material plane. He turns, face full of fear, and screams "Aaaaargh! Who are you?! Begone surfacer spirits!"
"The earth is the heart and soul of the Forgotten Folk. From its nurturing embrace spring forth the children of Garl, on its surface and amid its tunnels and caves they dwell in life and beneath its silken shroud they rest in death. Preserve and protect the natural world that lies beneath the roots of those who dwell on the surface. Dig burrows, tunnel and explore, for the Badger welcomes all gnomes into his domain. Ware the evil that ensnares those blinded by the avarice and destructive impulses of the Crawler Below and the Lord of the Burrow shall protect those who dwell in his demesne and live in harmony with his teachings."
Cade, Gael, Ed, Vic, NPCs : The Foaming Mug
"Yes...but if you want to eat after perhaps you could wait for it to be cleaned. Its just me here! We have Foaming Mug robes, if you don't mind."
Krivs turns to Froog after the outburst.
"I thought deep gnomes were meant to be a very welcoming people, or have I just been very misinformed?"
"The others were... Sir! We are not spirits and we mean no harm! My name is Froog! My friend here is Kriv. We came looking for your help! Froog hurries to try to reassure the deep gnome. He even gives Kriv a few pokes to show they aren't spirits.
"Please stop that, that's quite rude you know."
Raising a super bushy eyebrow in scruitiny "Hmmm...yes, poke-ability proves it, I suppose. You need my help, you say? Are you sure I'm the svirfneblin you're looking for? Glyphic Shroomlight, I call myself."
Vic enjoys a bath, and requests if they hsve any Elven vintages to drink.
Edlethron enjoys civilization.
When he has an opportunity with the innkeeper, he asks her, "have you ever seen any other elves that look like me? Coppery skin and hair?"
Khaz admired his reforged hammer. ”Usually I’d make a joke about non-Dwarven work, but ye be a credit to the Craft. Got any advice on what can be done to protect me hammer from more o’ the slimy bastards? Also have any well made shields? I’ve been usin’ this Drow shield for far too long. Grates on me nerves to use such inferior craft.”
Khaz
He snickers in an honest, uncontrolled giggle "Hahahah! Inferior craft! Yeah...isn't that right? Spider motifs...its like, change your paradigm am I right. Plenty of shields about the 'Clatter. I've a few..."
"If you're looking for protection against puddings, there is little hope. Those acids dissolve all metals and woods. You would need a crystal or stone head, or perhaps ivory..."
"Yep, Shroomlight is the person we are looking for. We found a Halfling gentleman in an eye tyrant cave a while back and he won't wake up. We were told you may be able to help. If be happy to offer my services in the temple as payment if you like."
Cade looks at the proprietor, "Oh yes baths. I would like one yes. Also burn these clothes. I will need new ones sturdy incase we have more caving to do. The armor please have it repaired and de-odorized. Before you say you don't do all that please understand I am happy to tip you and your runners. He hands her 15 gold. That should over shoot new clothes and a bath. If the other incurs more expense find me I will make it good. Thank you."
Cade settles into the hot tube and gets nice and clean and waits for his new clothes.
True to his word, Gael has no hurry to get out of this place. He enjoys the drinks and the camaraderie, telling his companion not to get into too much trouble without letting him know.
The offer of a bath is welcomed.
He tries to strike up conversation with anyone who would not shy away from foreigners, "So what's new these days around here? Besides us, I know we're new."
Catacombs
Glyphic checks the halfling's pulse, and opens one his eyelids before examining the little bite marks "Oh no, whats this? Looks like spider sleep...he'll need long term care, at least a few days I'd say. The sisters should be able to revive him. You can help with things, you say?"
Foaming Mug
Vic, she pulls out a bottle from under the table "This was left here a few years ago by a kind old gent...said it was from Chult maybe? Dunno if its elvish, fairly sure its wine!" The bottle has a picture of a smiling Tabaxi giving a thumbs up.
Ed, "Oh yes, I remember that color! Unique one. But it was in a painting, so maybe just artistic choice..." she stretches her memory.
Cade, Tappy makes a note of all your requirements and happily does her best to accomodate.
Gael, the taproom slowly fills with many deep gnomes fresh off the job. It's clear the way of this society is some kind of work-collective. You enjoy a few drinks over the hours with some kindly folk who are as eager to hear your story as you are of theirs. You pick up some rumors that you might be interested in asking more about:
*Blingdenstone’s ghost problem is getting worse, and there are even spirits haunting the catacombs.
*There was a crazy svirfneblin back in the first days of reclamation who disappeared. Some of the scouts claim to have seen him, skulking around the unrecovered areas of the settlement.
*The Stoneheart Enclave is closing in on a solution to the threat of Ogrémoch’s Bane. The gnomes call a large unclaimed area in the northeast of the settlement “Rockblight,” as earth elementals go mad whenever they go near it.
*People are divided as to what to do about the wererats living in the southwest caverns. Some want them out, while others propose an alliance of mutual defense.
*A merchant from Gracklstugh says there’s an influx of surface-world coins there, but nobody knows where they come from.
*A svirfneblin caravan returning from Whiteshell Mines encountered a parade of dancing myconids. Through their rapport spores, the myconids told the gnomes about a “wedding celebration,” which is strange considering that myconids don’t celebrate or have weddings.
Froog, you get the feeling that Shroomlight isn't the most talented acolyte in the world. The way he just triaged the halfling was amateurish at best, and...not to be rude, just frankly speaking...you would expect a lot more from the leader of a temple.
Froog looks on as Shroomlight checks over the halfling. He almost steps in as Shroomlight pulls a little to hard on the eyelid but he restrains himself. Shroomlight is the leader of the temple after all. "Mr Shroomlight, is everything ok? You looked... ah... nervous while you were checking out our unconscious friend there."
M-me? What?! No, of course not...I've read about the process for checking out an unconscious person a thousand times...ah..." he feigns a cough and attempts to flip the conversation quickly "Yes, yes, there is a matter the temple would be most gracious for assistance with. Most gracious, indeed! There's been many complaints about a ghost over in the residential caves, particularly nasty sort chasing away everyone! Of course, I would do the cleansing but...er...I am overtasked with maintaining the catacombs here, you see. Ah, must make sure the spirits here can rest! Don't you understand?!"
".....in short what your saying is your in over you head ain't you."
"No, dragon! Well...a bit maybe. In truth, when the drow invaded long ago it was a slaughter...so many who perished now haunt these caverns. Not all of them are our kind old ancestors... I'm just trying to repay the Stoneheart Enclave as best I can, it was because of them we were able to reopen this temple."
Vic opens the wine and pours a glass, hoping it has not turned to vinegar, but simply aged well.
I thank you. Like my dear Cousin has indicated, have you seen sny of our like nearby, or around your fine city?
"We may be able to take care of this ghost that's troubling you. I can show it Lathander's light to guide him to its next life. In the mean time, where are these sisters so we may drop off our friend here?"
Vic, tastes like honey wine. "No, you're Eladrin, right? Or Sylvan...? Forgive me not many of your kind pass through...the drow attack on sight, so I hear. There was a magic user a few years past, and like I mentioned a painter who represented elves with hair of that color...but I'm struggling to recall another."
Froog, "Oh, you should have passed them on the way down...? Oh gosh, did they leave? *sigh*" now that you think of it you did actually pass a number of women tending the area above on the way down.
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When his new clothes arrive Cade puts on the new items feeling better.
Cade makes his way to the taproom and joins the others. He enjoys a few drinks and a meal. He is happy when any of the others show. He sits strumming his Lute playing an old halfling tune.
Feeling better at the sound of his own playing and singing and enjoying the raised glasses and bit of attention. As the time wears on his song gets livelier.
"There is an inn, a merry old inn
beneath an old grey hill,
And there they brew a beer so brown
That the Man in the Moon himself came down
one night to drink his fill."
With a few nods of encouragement. Cade stands and sings louder. Hitting a loud cord.
"The ostler has a tipsy cat
that plays a five-stringed fiddle;
And up and down he runs his bow,
Now squeaking high, now purring low,
now sawing in the middle.
The landlord keeps a little dog
that is mighty fond of jokes;
When there's good cheer among the guests,
He cocks an ear at all the jests
and laughs until he chokes."
No true performer but carefree and full of the moment Cade hops about enjoying himself and the crowd.
"They also keep a hornéd cow
as proud as any queen;
But music turns her head like ale,
And makes her wave her tufted tail
and dance upon the green.
And O! the rows of silver dishes
and the store of silver spoons!
For Sunday there's a special pair,
And these they polish up with care
on Saturday afternoons.
The Man in the Moon was drinking deep,
and the cat began to wail;
A dish and a spoon on the table danced,
The cow in the garden madly pranced,
and the little dog chased his tail.
The Man in the Moon took another mug,
and rolled beneath his chair;
And there he dozed and dreamed of ale,
Till in the sky the stars were pale,
and dawn was in the air.
Then the ostler said to his tipsy cat:
"The white horses of the Moon,
They neigh and champ their silver bits;
But their master's been and drowned his wits,
and the Sun'll be rising soon!"
So the cat on his fiddle played hey-diddle-diddle,
a jig that would wake the dead:
He squeaked and sawed and quickened the tune,
While the landlord shook the Man in the Moon:
"It's after three!" he said.
They rolled the Man slowly up the hill
and bundled him into the Moon,
While his horses galloped up in rear,
And the cow came capering like a deer,
and a dish ran up with the spoon."
Signs of drink and exuberance take over and he misses a few beats but claps his hands over his head along with some of the others who seem to be down for some music. He restarts.
"Now quicker the fiddle went deedle-dum-diddle;
the dog began to roar,
The cow and the horses stood on their heads;
The guests all bounded from their beds
and danced upon the floor.
With a ping and a pang the fiddle-strings broke!
the cow jumped over the Moon,
And the little dog laughed to see such fun,
And the Saturday dish went off at a run
with the silver Sunday spoon.
The round Moon rolled behind the hill,
as the Sun raised up her head.
She hardly believed her fiery eyes;
For though it was day, to her suprise
they all went back to bed."
He strums the lute fast and hits a loud and abrupt stop.
He smiles and sits returning to a drink.
Nearly all of the svirfneblin are impressed with the performance saying strange and funny things like "Wow, what is that thing? A Half-ding?
Get it a stout." another "No, that's gnome blood there, of course." still a third "But can he play the Stones?" and another acknowledges "Ah, aye, of course he cant play the Stones..."
"Those were the sisters? This is getting silly, they could have said so! I guess we only asked for you though. Are you going to be ok with the ghosts down here?"
"Oh yes, they are grateful for the rites, keeps them calm! One less spectral finger in my ears, you know how it goes...good luck in the residential caves!"
Back upstairs, the sisters have already prepared a place for the mysterious halfling to recover. At a glance it seems a good enough place to rest; only an insane criminal would be displeased to find himself alive upon waking in such a place. Unlike Glyphic, they seem to have done this before and begin working together humming serene underground songs that bounce through the burrows.
After what took far, far too long, Khaz decided on a new shield. Dropping his battered elven shield, he picked one which had a hammer and anvil on it. Gnomish make, but it looked dwarven enough for his tastes. Quite pleased, he said to the smith:
"Have ye any weapons which can withstand the touch o' the slimes? Mayhaps an axe or hammer with a crystal head to it? If we run into those creatures again, I'll nay want to be pummelin' them with rocks like before. An' after this I'll get out o' ye hair. See what me comrades be up to."
Khaz, he shows you some of his experimental works using different minerals. Most are beautiful and more like works of art than weapons, for example a fluorite longsword with a transparent purple obelisk for a blade. One in particular looks quite serviceable however, an axe head made of blackest obsidian, chipped to a razors edge. It would just take a few moments here to attach a shaft.
Khaz picked up the axe head and looked at it lovingly. ”Az-Dawr*. I’ll take it.”
* This literally translates to “the axe which is like a dwarf.” In common, however, it more accurately says “this axe is of high quality, and is as good as it can be untested.” For a dwarf, it is a great compliment from one Smith to another.
"Well Kriv, what say we leave this gentleman in the care of these ladies and we go find everyone else? We can go after that ghost once we are gathered."
Two dozen or so svirfneblin occupy this well-lit cavern, some moving briskly with messenger pouches in hand while others huddle around several stone tables covered in maps and other papers, talking in hushed, serious tones. The back of the room is dominated by a dais carved from the rock of the cavern, atop which rest two stone desks facing each other. Two svirfneblin — one male, one female — sit behind the desks, conferring with advisers and each other. They turn their attention to you as you enter.
They eye you suspiciously "Ah, the surfacers. We are Dorbi and Sennit Diggermattock. So, come, tell us your story...why are you here and what are you looking for?"
Seeing his companions looking to him, the gnome with the fabulous headwear steps forward to address the Diggermattocks. He stammers at first but gains confidence, "My n..name is Froog Na..Nackle. These fellows behind me are my crew, erm, well, they were my were my crew when we had a ship. We are more companions though, friends even! We are all here for our own reasons though more immediately we are looking for refuge." Froog then starts telling the tale of how they got to be here starting with the drow prison and including their experience with the demogorgon.
Gael added his own voice to the explanation, "As you may know, we were all captured by the drow and have been on the run from them for a while now. I think it's safe to say we lost them."
He continued, "Aside from a safe place, we would eventually require assistance or at least direction in how to get back to the surface. But we don't want to be a burden on any of you; we are all very capable of working and have a diverse set of skills to draw from."