"Shall we see where our friends have gotten off to?" He asks pleasantly.
"Are you referring to us, or Vorn and his cronies?" Laithe asks, walking up to where Nicolai, Keildrithe, Alton and Kajetan stand and catching the Nicolai's question. He nods to Keildrithe, his eyes conveying the admiration and respect he has for the Hedilye's abilities.
"The rain's letting up which means Vorn might be back soon. We have 2 options as I see it - we either continue to run, or we make a stand or take the fight to him." He looks around at the others inquiringly.
"Kajetan has also uncovered the trapdoor below. Looks harmelss enough - seems to be a cellar of some sort. It might be worth checking out before we make a decision either way?"
"You, of course!" Nicholai replies grandly. "There are many names I would happily call Vorn right now, and probably will, but I'm pretty sure 'Friend' isn't one of them!" He smiles.
Nicholai gives a theatrical sigh as Laithe lays out the options.
"They BOTH sound good to me! I hate running, and I will gladly take another opportunity to scorch that blasphemer's backside some more. But I must admit that the putting some distance between us is also an attractive option!" He says, his glance at Pharris as he says 'attractive' surely a mere coincidence.
"Unfortunately, I was also born with an absolutely UNfair amount of curiosity. At the academy my companions used to say I was part feline, for different reasons, of course."
"I say we investigate the cellar. Who knows when we may get another opportunity? Oh, speaking of opportuniies,... As they left our guests mentioned a man who used to help out spellweavers and other persons to escape from the Inquisition. He may not be alive, they thought he would be at least 70 if he stilled lived, but they said if he IS still alive, he might be able to aid us. And it seems his home is not too far from here, just over those hills. If they were right, it would be another option to keep in mind as we decide our path."
"No! now those soldiers are gone. I must get something off my chest, so you can all decide if you want me to leave. Laithe said you wouldn't mind but its all about what Keildrithe said. I shouldn't be doing this because my disguise is meant to stay put but you are all too important to risk for me."
Pharris straightens up and slowly draws back her thick red hair, "for I am Cynpharrisong Tremanalim, and I am one of the fey elves. My people are hunted and slain for the fears we bring into your mortal world."
The eyes look in earnest at them all, "I came here for fun and a little adventure but it seems that you all matter too much for that. So many fights and risks taken together my father would say. He is a woodland ranger and the best of elves." She adds lost in her own thoughts for a moment.
"So please Laithe doesn't mind but d-o you?" a slight tremor as she finishes.
Nicholai blinks at Pharris' words,... and ears. For once it seems that he is actually at a loss for words. He simply looks on in amazement as the lady,... elf, makes her simple, heartfelt plea.
Whatever he thinks takes but a few seconds. He steps forward, an earnest look on his face.
He gently takes one of Pharris' hands into both of his, And then bows low over it in a completely formal courtly bow. WHen he rises, his usual dazzling smile is back.
"My lady,... Cynpharrisong Tremanalim?" He says, tripping over the unusual inflections of her name in her native tongue.
"My name is Nicholai Auf DerMaur, being already indebted to you for my life more than once, allow to me to say what a great pleasure it is to finally meet you!" He says smiling.
"As you say my lady, too much has passed between those of us in this group to let a little thing like our country of origin, or the shape of ones ears, come between us. I know not what 'horrors' the elves are supposed to have brought to our world that you are hunted for it, but if you are any example of your people, then they are being done a grave disservice!"
"My lady,... Cynpharrisong Tremanalim?" He says, tripping over the unusual inflections of her name in her native tongue.
"My name is Nicholai Auf DerMaur, being already indebted to you for my life more than once, allow to me to say what a great pleasure it is to finally meet you!" He says smiling.
Laithe looks on quietly, pleased that Pharris decided to take the opportunity to tell her secret to the whole group.
Upon hearing Nicolai's response he smiles to himself, relieved for Pharris. He had every confidence that the group would embrace her secret as openly as he had, but he could sense the stress it was putting on Pharris. To his ears, Nicolai's response was just what was needed to put her at ease.
She repeats her name to help Nicolai with the pronounciation, "Cynpharrisong Tremanalim or Silver-Voiced of the Grove of Many-limbed Trees in your words."
Then Pharris looks around at Keildrithe, Alton and Kajetan. "Well?"
DM
Kajetan stops his scribbling and sits up, he looks in astonishment at Pharris, his mouth gaping open and stares at her, studying her. Any hint of embarrassment he had shown before is gone as he looks her up and down in wonder.
The rain drips off his water proof cowl and smudges the pages he has already written.
Kajetan is too busy staring at the ears to make any decisions, but he would be in favour of checking out the ruins, maybe we lead the horses away to make it look like we have left then double back here to investigate?
Failing that the old knight sounds like a good lead.
"Let's go inside, out of the rain." adds Pharris, letting the wet hair drop over her ears.
"Let's go inside, out of the rain." adds Pharris, letting the wet hair drop over her ears.
"An excellent suggestion!" Nicholai responds jovially. He turns to look at Kajetan, (the easier to ensure that he doesn't stare at Pharris's ears!)
"I think the time for subtlety is flown my friend. Let us make our investigations with all due haste, before our 'friends' realize that we aren't chasing them, and regather their courage for another try!"
He wrings out his ascot, and looks at it, pouting. He then casts a minor magic with a subtle gesture, and waves his hand over his soggy ascot. It soon dries, and he re-ties it around his neck with a sigh.
"There. That's a little better at least!" He says to no one, smiling. He gathers his pack and also dries it off as best as he can with his magic, silently offering the same service to anyone else who is interested. Then he shoulders his pack, checks his crossbow, and nods.
"Shall I conjure a Light? Or should we throw a torch down first? Sorry, My first underground exploration." He says with a nervous grin.
"No! now those soldiers are gone. I must get something off my chest, so you can all decide if you want me to leave. Laithe said you wouldn't mind but its all about what Keildrithe said. I shouldn't be doing this because my disguise is meant to stay put but you are all too important to risk for me."
Pharris straightens up and slowly draws back her thick red hair, "for I am Cynpharrisong Tremanalim, and I am one of the fey elves. My people are hunted and slain for the fears we bring into your mortal world."
The eyes look in earnest at them all, "I came here for fun and a little adventure but it seems that you all matter too much for that. So many fights and risks taken together my father would say. He is a woodland ranger and the best of elves." She adds lost in her own thoughts for a moment.
"So please Laithe doesn't mind but d-o you?" a slight tremor as she finishes.
Keildrithe looks at Pharris intently, raising an eyebrow in wonder. His grim expression changes suddenly, giving way to a radiant, beaming smile. "I knew there was something... different... about you... It is a pleasure to learn your real name, Cynpharrisong, and to become acquainted with... the real you. And as for your question -you should know better than to ask that, my lady -- we would be the ones honoured to have you want to continue fighting by our side. Karand, fey, we are much the same, are we not? And if the impressive displays of skill and bravery we have witnessed over the past few weeks was merely you having 'a little fun,' then I dare not imagine what you can accomplish when you are fully committed to accomplishing something..."
"Now let us investigate this cellar. We are here now, so may as well do it... And once that is done, I too would be willing to go in search of this benevolent Artonite, if he yet lives... Unless someone prefers that we seek out the one named Stephen, the Artonite priest with unconventional views that Gosia hinted could also be helpful to our cause?"
It's about a ten foot drop down to the stone floor of the cellar. No stair or ladder in evidence.
Nicholai smiles in earnest at Keildrithe's eloquent response. HE makes a half-bow indicating the cellar door.
"Well then, Ladies, and large swords, first?!?" He quips with a grin.
Pharris lets her eyes become accustomed to the shadows and poor light thrown up by Nicolai's spell then she slowly descends the stairs, greatsword held across her chest.
"Nicolai, follow me with that light, I can't see much without that."
It's about a ten foot drop down to the stone floor of the cellar. No stair or ladder in evidence.
she slowly descends the stairs, greatsword held across her chest.
Kajetan looks around for a rope and some where to secure it before Pharris can lower herself down.
Pharris lets Nicolai wave the light below to get a fix on the ground. Then she lowers herself down and jumps with her weapons tucked away.
"Here goes."
Nicholai pulls out a copper piece, and waves his hand over it. It begins to glow with the brightness of a torch. Squinting at the invasive bright light, Nicholai obligingly brings it over to the trapdoor, and holds it where it can illuminate the landing 10' below.
With some help from her companions, Pharris is easily able to lower herself down into the dark basement. The air is cold and damp down here – there is a faint draught, and an even fainter sound, like breathing. The faint smell of decay hangs in the air. A little grey light filters down with the rain from the grey sky above, though Nicolai’s light coin, when dropped down, adequately lights the space.
The basement is about thirty feet square, with drab grey stone walls, covered here and there in patches of a thick, furry black mould. The stone floor is cracked and buckled, and in the north west corner of the room the floor has collapsed completely – there is a dark sinkhole leading deeper into the earth. Ominous looking. Narrow ribbons of rainwater trickle across the floor, dripping down into that yawning sinkhole.
Stacked here and there around the edges of the chamber are a few old barrels and crates, most of them looking damaged, some partially encrusted by the black mould. Near the centre of the room is the broken remains of a wooden stepladder. Huddled in the south-west corner is a yellowed human skeleton, looking mostly intact, dressed in a few shredded and rotted remains of clothing, with mould growing in patches on it.
Kajetan is too busy staring at the ears to make any decisions, but he would be in favour of checking out the ruins, maybe we lead the horses away to make it look like we have left then double back here to investigate?
Failing that the old knight sounds like a good lead.
Laithe nods at Kajetan's suggestion, and while the others begin their investigation of the trapdoor, he quickly leads the horses down the hill in the opposite direction the soldiers fled to. He finds a spot reasonably close but relatively hidden and tethers them lightly enough that they can escape if threatened. He then changes to wolf form and lopes quickly back to the hilltop to rejoin the others.
Mothman
Nicholai peeks down into the basement after Pharris drops down.
"Delightful." He says with a straight face. Then looks at Kajetan.
"I'm not saying it's my FIRST choice for a summer retreat, and the accommodations could use an upgrade, but the solitude is first-rate!" He says deadpan, with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Be careful of the mould, some of it is dangerous if disturbed or touched," Kajetan calls out into the darkness. "That sink hole looks interesting, have we got time for some spelunking?"
Pharris prods the skeleton with the end of her sword. She keeps as far from the sinkhole as she can. "I said Kajetan I'm an elf not a dwarf."
Once finished with the body, she carefully moves round the edge of the room searching for search doors and other points of interest, not touching the black moss.
"Maybe one or two or you could come down to help me? With a torch for that hole perhaps" her voice trails away.
Pharris prods the skeleton with the end of her sword. She keeps as far from the sinkhole as she can. "I said Kajetan I'm an elf not a dwarf."
Nicholai chuckles aloud at this, snapping his mouth closed quickly as he looks at Kajetan.
"SHe does have a point. And a wit!" He says to the wizard, laughter in his eyes.
Once finished with the body, she carefully moves round the edge of the room searching for search doors and other points of interest, not touching the black moss.
"Maybe one or two or you could come down to help me? With a torch for that hole perhaps" her voice trails away.
"Of course my lady!" Nicholai replies cheerfully.
"What, I'm not about to let the lady have ALL the fun!" HE says to the others.He pulls out a torch and retightens his pack. HE drops the unlit torch to the ground, then wriggles around so he can slide through the door on his belly. He lowers himself as far as he can with his arms, and then drops to the floor.
"Oof! THAT was fun!" He says dryly as he picks himself up off of the floor and brushes some debris from his sleeve. "Hey guys, is there a post or anything up there we can tie off a rope to, to make getting out easier?" HE calls up.
"Oh, and come on in! The water's fine!" He quips as he picks up the unlit torch and his coin. Using his active minor magics, he conjures a tiny candle flame on one finger, and uses it to light the torch. USing both the torch and coin for light, he looks around the cellar. MIndful of Kajetan's warning, he cautiously avoids the black patches of mold with a distasteful look on his face. Finally he ends up beside the hole. Being careful not to get close enough to fall in.
After looking around to see if Pharis, is ready, he holds the torch up over the hole.
"Ready?" he asks, just to be sure. AFter receiving a nod in the affirmative, he drops the torch into the hole.
"Good idea about the rope, Nicolai. And someone should stand guard up here, lest someone should sneak up, remove the rope, and entomb us in that ungodly darkness. Alton, my good lad, I trust your knot tying, senses and defensive abilities like none other. Would you be so kind? I unfortunately am not so dextrous, and trust myself to make a stellar face plant without the aid of a good rope to lower me down there..."
Just as Nicolai is lowering himself into the hole, Pharris has moved over to the skeleton, poking it with her sword. An instant before she does so, she hears what appears to be a faint, breathy sighing sound, and notices the skeleton twitch slightly – before it begins to rise jerkily to its feet.
Pharris leaps back at the sight and just tries to flail at the skeleton. "It's alive!"
Pharris’ sword slams into the slowly rising skeleton with little finesse but much force, shattering bones and causing the old corpse to collapse back to the floor, where it twitches but seems too damaged to rise.
Pharris leaps back at the sight and just tries to flail at the skeleton. "It's alive!"
"AH!" NIcholai cries in a surprised shriek at Pharris' yell, leaping back into a crouch and causing the shadows caused by both coin and torch to dance wildly around the chamber.
He stares as the Elf-warrior's blade strikes the skeleton a glancing blow that smashes it back onto the ground where it was lying. He sniffs, and raises himself back up to his full hight.
"And now it's dead, again." He says wryly, trying to regather his shattered dignity.
"I'll just, hold the light steady for you, shall I?" He says with a grin, giving the still-twitching corpse a wary glance.
"AH!" NIcholai cries in a surprised shriek at Pharris' yell, leaping back into a crouch and causing the shadows caused by both coin and torch to dance wildly around the chamber.
He stares as the Elf-warrior's blade strikes the skeleton a glancing blow that smashes it back onto the ground where it was lying. He sniffs, and raises himself back up to his full hight.
"And now it's dead, again." He says wryly, trying to regather his shattered dignity.
"I'll just, hold the light steady for you, shall I?" He says with a grin, giving the still-twitching corpse a wary glance.
Laithe returns to the group just in time to see Pharris strike the animated skeleton back to the ground. He casts a dark eye back at the standing stones that circle the bottom of the hill. "It seems older, dark magic has sway over this place. It is an unnatural thing; a curse on nature" he mutters, aimed at no-one in particular.
He leans into the hole and drops his shield and spear to the floor. He then follows them down, taking hold of the edge and lowering himself into the cellar.
Kajetan hears the commotion, but can't see clearly through the throng of people crowding the trap door entrance.
"what's alive, the mould?" he queries, "Oh the skeleton, now that is interesting."
Alton had begun tying off the rope for Keildrithe, but stops, staring in awe or horror as the skeleton attacks, and is smacked down by, Pharris.
The brief combat ended, he looks up and nods at Keildrithe, one hand shielding his face from the drizzling rain. “I think that’s an excellent idea my friend. Someone needs to watch out for Vorn – one way or another, I’ll see that he doesn’t trap you down there.” He lowers his voice. “Truth to tell, dark holes in the ground aren’t really my thing … and the walking dead even less. Good luck down there.”
Having a sudden thought, the halfling reaches into his pack and pulls forth several items which he hands to the bard. The first two are short iron rods with gold coloured tips.
“These are sunrods,” he explains. “Strike the end against stone, and they’ll glow like a lantern for hours.” The third item is the longfang dagger that he claimed in the Valley of the Snails. “This is magical,” he says, “but I prefer my rapier and sickle. Still, perhaps a magical weapon will be handy if there are more walking corpses down there.”
Kajetan hears the commotion, but can't see clearly through the throng of people crowding the trap door entrance.
"what's alive, the mould?" he queries, "Oh the skeleton, now that is interesting."
"Interesting? Oh, yes. That's ONE word for it. I suppose." Nicholai responds dryly as he warily looks around the room for any other occupants that shouldn't be moving,...
The warrior maiden pretends its all in a days work, or at least tries to continue her search of the chamber.
Having a sudden thought, the halfling reaches into his pack and pulls forth several items which he hands to the bard. The first two are short iron rods with gold coloured tips.
“These are sunrods,” he explains. “Strike the end against stone, and they’ll glow like a lantern for hours.” The third item is the longfang dagger that he claimed in the Valley of the Snails. “This is magical,” he says, “but I prefer my rapier and sickle. Still, perhaps a magical weapon will be handy if there are more walking corpses down there.”
"Thanks, my friend," responds Keildrithe as he tucks the curved dagger and sunrods in his belt, then lowers himself cautiously down the rope.
"Pharris, Nicolai, Laithe, are you alright?" asks the bard with concern. "Would it be worthwhile to investigate this hole further, or are we tempting the black fates needlessly?"
"Well. as I mentioned, I confess to a curiosity worthy of a cat! So, we MAY be tempting fate,... but I'm not sure if it's needless until we investigate thoroughly!" Nicholai banters.
"I say we should least give it a cursory inspection. If it turns out to be nothing more than a mole-hole, or snake tunnel, we can leave easily enough!"
The warrior maiden pretends its all in a days work, or at least tries to continue her search of the chamber.
The shattered skeleton continues to twitch feebly.
"Pharris, Nicolai, Laithe, are you alright?" asks the bard with concern. "Would it be worthwhile to investigate this hole further, or are we tempting the black fates needlessly?"
Laithe steps over to where the skeleton continues to twitch and slams the butt of his spear down onto it's skull, crushing it.
He turns to Keidlrithe and says "The undead are animated in direct contridiction to the natural order. Though I like not this hole, I feel it is my duty to explore further and restore the natural order of this place. Though I aknowledge the timing is not great - what with Vorn possibly stalking about nearby..."
He turns and helps Pharris with her search.
Laithe’s blow stills the twitching skeleton.
A search of the chamber reveals a small wooden chest, apparently locked, hidden within one of the old crates.
Apart from the hole in the floor, and the trapdoor up above, no other exits are found to the stone cellar.
"Shall I force this open? I wonder hope long it has been here just waiting? Why hasn't anyone ever opened this before? We must be just lucky, hey."
Pharris watches the chest close up to see if it has markings or runes on it.
"Shall I force this open? I wonder hope long it has been here just waiting? Why hasn't anyone ever opened this before? We must be just lucky, hey."
Pharris watches the chest close up to see if it has markings or runes on it.
Laithe shrugs. "The trapdoor above was concealed fairly well. And if evil magic pervades this place then it's possible anyone who did find their way here didn't survive long enough to uncover the chest. Chances it is left over from a time when this tower was still in use. Open it if you want, though be wary of traps. If it was hidden down here, then it may hold something of worth and so further precuations may have been taken."
Laithe squats down by a patch of mold to take a closer look, trying to determine it's type and whether or not it might be dangerous.
There are no markings or runes on the box, just signs of wear and tear.
The mould growing about is of a type often found growing in damp crypts. It is ugly, and prolonged exposure to it can produce an irratable rash, but it is not really dangerous. It is often used as a component in spells, rituals and potions associated with necromancy.
There are no markings or runes on the box, just signs of wear and tear.
The mould growing about is of a type often found growing in damp crypts. It is ugly, and prolonged exposure to it can produce an irratable rash, but it is not really dangerous. It is often used as a component in spells, rituals and potions associated with necromancy.
Laithe relay's his knowledge of the mold to Kajetan and the others. While Pharris inspects the box he moves over to the hole in the ground, listening for any sounds spilling up from below. The discussion around the contents of the chest distract him though, and he struggles to make out any distinct sounds. After a moment he turns and says
"Keildrithe, can you pass one of Alton's sun-rods? I want to get a better view of what's down here."
Silent as a tomb down there…
Kajetan looks at the trap door and the rope and sighs, "Oh for the day I can use magic to float down there." He grips the rope and lowers himself over the edge his feeble arms start to shake and his legs flail around in space.