Tosguld retrieves his hammer and rests it on his shoulder. He eyes the door in front of them with a calculating gaze. "We should prepare for whoever, or whatever, is beyond that door."
Tosguld retrieves his hammer and rests it on his shoulder. He eyes the door in front of them with a calculating gaze. "We should prepare for whoever, or whatever, is beyond that door."
Even if he is only successful at being a murdering bastard, it is still a surprise to me that anyone would willingly live here just to avoid the guard, Pyrrha comments before listening at the door.
As the party examines the doorway leading farther into the labyrinth of the Siphons, they take a careful look to make sure they have safe passage. With both Mephiston and Faust examining it carefully, they find no sign of anything other than the crudely drawn mark. Through the grate in the door, you can clearly see that the hallway in front of you breaks off in two different directions, but there's no telling what actually lies beyond them. The tepid pools of water on either side of them appear to be slowly draining away into smaller streams, barred off by old, rusted iron. Testing the lock, Mephiston finds the door's old locks are rusty and seized up, although getting it open wouldn't be impossible.
Mephiston listens to the guard captain's plan while he examines the room, memorizing the details carefully. It seemed that he had selected a competent ally at least. "Well, it seems he didn't leave any surprises at the front door. Let's get moving then."
Ahto stands ready to move inside as soon as the door is opened.
|
Variel kept his eyes wide open and his hands ready to draw the irons.
The elf closes his eyes and places one hand over his chest while the other draws a small magical symbol "I've been tempered by time and struggle, fire cannot harm me..." he mutters under hid breath, memories flashing through his mind.
Mephiston's words return his attention to the present time. The ranger draws his irons and checks the ammunition inside before nodding to the Chelaxian.
"Ready when you are, fellas"
Mephiston clicks through the tumblers of the lock with methodical motions only a trained lockpick would know, but as he tries to raise the last tumbler and turn the lock, the whole apparatus seizes up. He tries to force it, but the rusty metal just scrapes against itself and refuses to budge. The Chelaxian can tell he's close to getting the lock to open, but it'll require just a bit more finesse before it pops open.
"Damn whatever idiot let this get so rusty," Mephiston mutters as he works the tumblers. "This is ridiculous."
Mephiston swears under his breath as the lock seizes up, but he takes a breath and goes back a few steps. He grunts as the lockpicks force through the rust built up on the tumblers and he's able to, with some effort, force the lock to turn and the door to open. The hinges are as rusty as the lock but it finally forces open with a few of them putting their weight behind it. Stumbling out into the hallway, the group can see the right passageway has collapsed from disuse. The rubble is more or less unclearable, and there's no telling if the passageway beyond is even still standing. To the left, the hallway splits as it turns off; past the turn, the hallway narrows significantly. The narrow hallway runs a good thirty feet before turning off itself, but it's hard to tell what lies beyond either turn without investigating it.
"Finally." Mephiston stows his tools again. "I'll scout ahead." He slips ahead to the first corner, carefully looking around it to see what's ahead.
Pyrrha waits a moment before tailing behind Mephiston, keeping to corners and darkness for cover.
Mephiston heads off down the hallway with Pyrrha following some distance behind. As the Chelaxian rounds the corner he spots a pile of rubble on the floor along with another door, this one clearly in somewhat better shape than the prior one. As he stalks forward, he feels his foot sink slightly into the rubble, and hears a telltale click just a second too late; Pyrrha rounds the corner behind him to see a large set of rusty iron spikes jut out from the ground, spraying the rubble in every direction. Mephiston does his best to get clear of the spikes before they can impale him, but he still ends up with some nasty gashes up his calves and thighs, and the serrated hooks he spots on their edges rip away a few pieces of flesh. The spikes slowly recede into the ground again, the metallic scraping clearly audible down the hall. The holes, however, are now clearly visible, and Pyrrha spies the pressure plate. She also notes this next door also seems to sport the same crude cleaver symbol carved into the rotting wooden frame.
Mephiston swears profusely as the old trap slashes his legs. "I am going to skin the son of a b*tch when I find him. The guard can have whatever's left when I'm done." He yanks his leg back and gets to work tearing out the pressure plate to make sure the trap will never work again while Faust appears in midair, giggling and tapping Mephiston's wounds with his wand.
Pyrrha takes a moment to ensure Mephiston would be alright before she turns to address those approaching from behind. I guess we shouldn't be surprised that there are traps, but we need to be extra weary of traps that might be more fatal than the one Mephiston just stumbled on. Anyone have antitoxin or poison proof in case there was more than rust on these blades?
"Good advice," Faust says, still grinning as he slides the wand back into a pouch almost as long as he is tall. "Someone should take it."
"Yes, yes, my pain entertains you," Mephiston says. He grumbles a little before he digs into his belt pouch and pulls out both an antitoxin and an antiplague and downs them both. "Why do I put up with you again?"
"Because I'm useful and having a personal devil servant is prestigious."
"Ah, that's right."
"I had some alchmists' kindness...but I used it a few days back...long night, heh...." Ahto chimes in. "I doubt it would do much for any poison stronger than a shot of brown whiskey, though."
Oh wait, I might have something. Pyrrha stops herself. Here Mephiston, take this. If no one can tell you it was poisoned, then it'll be good to be extra cautious. Pyrrha draws a flask with a green painted stopper with the letter 'P' etched into the top of it.
A little further back in the line, For I am not a subtle .. person, Varrren winces at the Chelaxian's injury. He looks down at his own pouches. Knowing their contents precisely, he is about to drop his pack to extract his own antitoxin from it when he sees the devil worshiper down the necessary vials. Instead, he simply waits for the group to overcome this next door.
Mephiston, irked by the trap, quickly rips out the mechanisms holding the pressure plate in place. The old stone tiles sit awkwardly recessed without the trap's trigger, but otherwise it seems he's dismantled it handily. The hallway, as Mephiston already noted, ends abruptly with another door. Rather than the wood of the first door, this one is made of heavy iron and appears to be in much better condition; despite a bit of rust, the door appears to still be serviceable.
Ahto keeps up with those in the front, both out of interest and out of an interest of (truth be told) not being the last one in line if the group is being stalked from the shadows.
"I suppose I should be the one who's taking the lead on this sort of thing. Faust, check the walls and ceilings for anything odd. After you give me a little buffer against any more injuries." Mephiston moves down the hall slowly, keeping an eye out for more traps before he goes over the door, both looking for a mark that it's the right way and making sure it's not going to try to skewer him like the hall.
Mephiston takes the lead against and carefully heads to the door, where he too spots the small cleaver symbol etched into the frame. He looks over the door carefully, trying to spot some hidden mechanism, but as far as he can tell it appears to be clear. He slowly turns the handle and pushes the door open—apparently this one wasn't locked—and winces for a moment before pushing the door all the way open. The room beyond seems to have a large central pool of sorts, now filled with rocks and debris from the slowly crumbling ceiling. The water seems deep, with the rubble simply jutting up above it, rather than a shallow pool. A trained eye can notice the water still appears to be moving, albeit quite slowly. Three more passageways branch off from this room, although one of them has an abrupt drop-off; the passageway collapses some twenty feet down, and closer examination shows the drop is around fifteen feet down into a chasm now filled with water. The gap is only about ten feet wide, although it's not clear how high the water might be.
"Another mark. I believe this is the right way. Careful now." He stays back near the door for a few moments, letting the party catch up while he's scanning the room. "Looks like a cistern or something similar. Try not to fall in."
"Cistern? More like a cesspool," Ahto replies wrinkling his nose a bit. "I'd better be dying of thirst if I'm drinking that."
"Looks like the southern passage is a dead end." Tosguld muses. "North, then?" He proposes while motioning towards the doorway.
"Sounds like a good a choice as any," Ahto says with a shrug. "Keep sharp, though. Multiple passages create opportunities for us to be flanked or hit from behind."
"Yes because that's the last thing we need." Mephiston sets off ahead to the corner to check for traps or monsters or the like.
Varrren smiles grimly and advances up the northern passage, letting Mephiston have enough of a lead to remain, hopefully, undetected.
Mephiston and Varrren head up the northern passageway, just enough to scout around the corner. The hallway extends about forty feet before branching off to the north and south. Mephiston can see a bit of rubble up at the end of the passage—perhaps another collapsed tunnel—but he can't quite tell from where he's standing. There's no sign of Grozz's mark, at least not here, although from what he can tell none of the passages away from the prior room had any sort of identifying mark on them. Down to the south, the water in the chasm seems to rush through for a moment, the current much stronger, before it dies down again.
Tosguld examines the west passage, looking for any indication of foot traffic.
Mephiston back tracks to the party. "Doesn't look like there's anything along the north passage. Let me give you a hand captain." He moves a little ahead down the west passage, looking more for the mark or for any further traps that might be lying in wait.
The western passage takes a sharp turn south, before collapsing into a pile of rubble. Judging from the path, and the faint sound of trickling water, it seems like this passage may connect to the flowing water you saw to the south; scraping away a few of the stones causes a bit of water to trickle through the rubble. Again, no sign seems to be drawn here. It's possible it might have once been scratched into the passage, but if it was, the rocks likely collapsed and buried it some time ago.
Tosguld stops and thinks for a moment, stroking his beard. "Looks like the north passage is our only way forward, then, eh?"
He proceeds to make his way to the first bend in the northern hallway before waiting for Mephiston.
"Quite possibly. Hopefully it connects to somewhere useful, otherwise we may get lost in this place. And I think that's the last thing any of us want."
Mephiston leaps the gap over to the other side of the ravine and rolls, coming up not far away from the door. Either end of what used to be a hallway now ends in nothing but rubble, with the water flowing through the cracks on the fallen architecture. Examining it doesn't seem to turn up any traps, and while it seems the door was once locked, the rust has eroded the entire lock mechanism and the door sits slightly ajar. Without moving the door any further, Mephiston can take a long at a bit of the room beyond. A few sacks and crates sit on the far wall, and a large pit sits in the middle of the room; it's not possible to see what lies within, although Mephiston does notice two hallways leading off the center room from where he can see. Interestingly though, he still can't see the mark Grozz has left for himself.
Mephiston looks around for a few moments and sighs. He turns and gets a good start and leaps back across the gap. "It looks like south is another room with several passages off it, but there's still no mark. I'm guessing the collapsed passage was marked, so we need to find another way around to stay on track. Either way will work, so let's pick one and keep exploring."
Tosguld's eyes widen as he watches Mephiston leap across the collapsed passage. "Impressive! I'd end up swimming if I tried that." He remarks, chuckling.
Pyrrha speaks only so loud as to be heard by those in the central chamber, even though hearing this group was not difficult with all the armor sliding and clinking against itself, To be honest, I think our mark would have been thinking the same thing as Tosguld. How many of the city guard could even attempt that leap? If I were our man, that pit is either my escape route or the entrance. Maybe both.
"Not an unreasonable belief," Mephiston agrees. "Perhaps I can find a board or something similar to lay across the gape so they less... acrobatic of our compatriots can get across more easily."
Mephiston moves farther into the room beyond the ravine, and as he steps through the door he notices another small pressure plate a few feet in front of him. Carefully avoiding it until he's done a full sweep of the room, the Chelaxian steps up toward the center of the pit and peers down. The ground is sandy with a grate in the bottom, with a bit of rubble and some blood-stained sand. Off to the side he notices several crates and what looks to be piles of sandbags. Four passageways lead off from the room, although the two on the southwest edge appear to be connected farther down.
"It looks like there's some rubble I can use over here to fill the gap," Mephiston calls back as he steps into the room. "And what looks like a trap, so I'll assume this is the right way. If anyone would like to jump over and help, I would appreciate it." He stops to disable the pressure plate, whatever it's for. Once he's satisfied that the trap won't be in his way, he carefully walks around the central pit, keeping any eye on the side passages as he does so. Both for the mark and for any trouble coming. He starts dragging the crates and sandbags to make a bridge so the rest of the group can follow.
Ahto takes his cue from Mephiston's lead and makes a running leap over the chasm.
Tosguld watches as Ahto leaps across the collapse. He calls out to the two men on the other side. "I have a good length of silk rope if that helps."
Ahto takes a step back and takes a running leap across the chasm. While the loose rubble at the edge of the ravine and the water splashing up onto the stone causes Ahto to slip as he makes his leap, he clears the ravine and hits the other side. The collapsing stone at his feet shifts under him when he does so, but they hold at least long enough to let him get to more solid ground. When he heads through the door, he sees Mephiston finishing the act of dismantling the pressure plate. As he does so, he sees the nozzle that must have launched the trap pop up from beneath the cobblestones, but with the trap dismantled it merely sits there. Mephiston is fairly certain the trap would have produced a gout of flame.
Between he and Ahto, the two of them manage to form a makeshift bridge. The crates rest uneasily on top of the sandbags, but it does give the lot of them enough room to maneuver across and get to the next room.
With the touch of a feather and an arcane word Pyrrha joins Ahto and Mephiston on the other side of the divide by floating just off the ground.
Varrren walks over to the edge of the chasm, leaning on his cane to peer over the edge. When he straightens he shakes his head slightly, "Acrobatic, I am not. Not on the ground anyway."