heh heh
After he's told the others what he saw and what they are, Arakan once again takes his place near the back, now that there is no threat directly behind them.
"How's everybody feeling? We could rest maybe."
"A rest would certainly not be unwelcome."
"It sounds to me like the things ahead will wait a while. We should head back and make one of those shelters secure and rest up." Jareen intones, annoyingly repeating what the others are already thinking.
Dungeoneering
aid another I guess
Gart mulls about, trying to make sense of what may very well have been his ancestral home.
Arakan's attention to his own safety has potential when looking for a safe resting place.
Safier quietly helps the others search for a spot to recover, though worry for the others of the caravan tug at her thoughts. Can't help anyone when dead though.
Gart seems distracted, but the others find what looks like a good campsite slightly off the main passage in what may have been a dwarven shop and home behind it. It is dry, largely concealed from the main hallway and out of the zone of cold.
Furio, Gart, Jareen, Th'kal, and Arakan I reckon.
<Tsszzt>"You may all rests here. I will watch." ... which last time really meant watching you sleep - he finds the practice fascinating. You may wake up to him leering over you, lol.
That's cool.
Furio kinda doesn't sleep either. He waits.......like Chuck Norris.
Gart would watch if asked, otherwise his mind is likely overwhelmed into sleep with imaginations of what kind of things went on here, centuries past.
Jareen settles himself into a rear corner, and falls asleep surprisingly quickly.
With Th'Kal maintaining an unblinking watch, the others sleep.
"Perhaps this will save something." The voice is heavy with resignation.
A small group of dwarves stand in a wooded vale. The trees are of a sort Gart has not seen before, gnarled with rough fat trunks covered with shaggy moss and heavy branches bursting out a little more than head height. To him the vegetation looks impossibly lush, yet some part of him knows that these trees are dying. Along with the rest of the world.
The dwarves appear like those in the statues he has just recently seen. The have long hair and beards, elaborately braided and woven with small trinkets. Most wear shiny armour and carry gleaming weapons of what Gart seems to know is a metal called steel, despite never having heard the word before. But two are instead dressed in heavy brocade robes with chains of office made of yellow metal - gold - about their necks. It was one of these that spoke.
"There is always hope. We must believe that." Gart is surprised to find himself speaking in an unfamiliar voice. He glances down to find himself in robes like the other two. "By Moradin's grace this will serve to preserve the lore of the dwarves for the future. Rajaat's madness will be defeated and the dwarves will rise again."
"A repository, or a tomb," grunts the third. "We are priests of the Lord of Stone and we will preseve what is his. Come - time is short."
The three priests - Gart and the other two - approach a huge boulder standing in the clearing. In their hands they bear heavy grey rods of a third metal - "adamantite" a voice seems to whisper in his skull - and with an inward jerk of surprise realises the one he carries is the rod he and his fellow adventurers recovered from the rockfall the previous day. The dwarves approach the giant rock, into which has been carved a doorway. Three holes are carved to one side and each of the three dwarves inserts their rod into one of the holes. With a nod, they twist the rods together.
There is a grunding rumble and a stone door slides shut, blocking the doorway. The dwarven priests pull out the rods and there is brief shimmer in the air. The boulder now looks untouched, with no sign it had been carved, the holes for the rod-keys similarly vanished.
The three dwarves bow their heads. "Lord of Stone, Father of the People, bless your servants and their endeavour. Even if you cannot aid your children, do not let them fall into darkness. Preserve our ways so that our descendants might know your wisdom." They pause for a moment, then look up at one another and hang their rods on their belts.
"We should go."
Ok just so I am clear, which way was the door facing? was it in the boulder or on the side? Maybe i misunderstood what you wrote, but i dont know where the door was in relation to the boulder in the wooded vale.
In the morning, Gart asks, "Could I see that metal rod?"
Gart looks the rod in his hands.
Would Gart think that the boulder gate would be in the vicinity of the rockfall?
"I had a dream last night," Gart says to Furio, "This was used by my ancestors."
"What did they do with it, Gart?"
"It was used with 2 others, to seal something away in a boulder. The lore of the Dwarves."
"Huh. Any idea where this boulder is located? I want to know what was important enough to seal away."
"Where? I am not sure. The dream must have been a long time ago, there were trees in a grove but they were all dying."
Let's go check out the room that Arakan recon'd.
"I'm not sure the bolder is any use without the other rods. We shall investigate that once we are out of this frozen hole. Now, do we want to tackle the zombies, or do we find another way around?"
"As tough as it is going, we don't want to keep leaving groups of enemies down here."
"Well, we are well rested. If you more burley types think that's the best route I'll try to keep pulling you out of the fire as we go." Jareen grins like he's made a joke.
"I just hope some others from the caravan are still alive."
Sounds like a plan.
Subtle? Moi?
Perish the thought!!!
The adventurers march to face thier zombie opponents. They enter a chamber that was once an underground crossroads. Opposite, to the east is an ornately carved doorway, partly choked with rubble but still passable. To the north is another, this one completely blocked with rubble, and a third to the south that is clear. The floor is covered with ice. The shuffling undead look up as the adventurers enter. Safier recognises more of her unfortunate former companions from the caravan.
B15
initiative
"It's.....so.....cold? What a wonderland!"