"A dark hole? What could go wrong?"
With no other offers forthcoming, Camlo takes the hint. "So, ahh, if you'll just lower me in, I'll take a look. Any chance of some sort of communication spell in case I need to get out quick-sharpish like?"
"We all go down together. I just want you to make sure that we're not walking into an immediate ambush. No poking around and getting picked off. Can you see in that darkness?"
"No better than you, I could do with a light dropping down there first off."
Illes laughs, "Ah c'mon now. I figure Vethran blasted whatever was down there right off the bat and got so excited about some old wall carving or another that he's lost interest in townie life. Figures. We're gonna have to climb all the way down there to remind the jerk to eat a meal and get back in the sun once in a while." Despite his confidence, Illes' smile is a little tight and his decision to get a move on uncharacteristic, "All right, let's do it then. But I can't help you out with the light situation. I could accompany your heroic climb with a heroic ballad though." Illes winks at the halfling, "What do you say?"
Sefayll picks up a stone. With a word, it begins to glow and she lets it fall from her hand into the sinkhole. "Like that?"
She looks at the bard. "If I knew Vethran better, I might be able to divine something of your cousin's location, but I fear my knowledge of him would not be up to the task. Better to do this the old-fashioned way," she looks at Elisile, "unless you've prepared such a spell today, of course. I'm certain your friendship with our fellow mage would be sufficient."
Sefayll removes her eyeless helm and sketches a small bow to the mayor. "Please forgive my manners, Mayor. The talk of yet another odd happening in your village had me immediately concerned me and I failed to introduce myself. I am Sefayll Valerian," she looks at her helm, "ah, former signifier of the Order of the Nail, based in Magnimar. The tale of my association with your local heroes would require far too long to tell right now."
"Spot on, thank you Sef."
Camlo climbs down the rope, followed by the others. At the base of the sinkhole, through the gap, a stairway leads down though a passage choked with rubble. After a few yards it turns and reaches a set of doors which are burst from their hinges. Clambering through, the adventurers discover the way beyond is relatively clear. The tunnels are clearly in the familiar Thassilonian style to which they have become accustomed under Jorgenfist.
"Interesting. Things seem have changed a bit since we were down here last." Alwyn slams his skull mask into place. "Let's find out exactly what's new, shall we?"
"Ohh, lots of people came this way."
The group follow the tracks through the empty halls, familiar to some from previous escapades. They lead to a spiral stairway, leading down, which was previously blocked with rubble on the previous visit but now is clear. The tracks lead down it. As the group consider, a scream pierces the air, echoing up from below.
"Well, someone's still kicking... let's hope they are alive too."
She looks at the bard. "If I knew Vethran better, I might be able to divine something of your cousin's location, but I fear my knowledge of him would not be up to the task. Better to do this the old-fashioned way," she looks at Elisile, "unless you've prepared such a spell today, of course. I'm certain your friendship with our fellow mage would be sufficient."
“I noticed such a spell in the stone giant’s spellbook, but did not have the foresight to learn such a divination,” replies Elisile.
Before they head down, Elisile casts mage armour on herself and Flame Arrow on her arrows. When she hears the scream, she pauses briefly to cast Gravity Bow, then sneaks forward down the stairs with Camlo.
The former hellknight hangs back, not wanting to ruin the surprise chances of the stealthy pair.
Elf and halfling descend the spiral stairs silently. They begin to hear a murmur of voices - groans, murmurs and pleading, all incomprehensible - over which is an insistent tapping of metal on stone. A vile stench of rot and opened bowels also assails them as they reach the bottom.
Beyond is a rubble-choked tunnel, partially cleared to allow cautious progress. White fog rolls through it, obscuring vision beyond. Another sudden howl swiftly dies back down to the background grumbling.
Illes marvels at the Thassalionian architecture while Elisile and Camlo scout ahead. "Huh. Buried here through the ages... I wonder how big it is? And how much of Varisia is hiding similar ruins?"
The bard fidgets with the hilt of his rapier, staring into the darkness beyond the soft glow from Sefyall's rock.
Elisile quietly murmers the words to a cantrip allowing her to detect magic, then detects magic on and through the fog.
"Go back and tell the others to come down quickly," she whispers to Camlo if nothing beyond the fog seems to react to her spellcasting.
Elisile tiptoes a short way back up the stairs to meet the others on the way down. “I have detected two abjurations protecting the way ahead,” she whispers. “One is a simple alarm spell – it will hopefully be easy enough to dispel, and we should do so if we wish to maintain any element of surprise – assuming that our mere presence in the vicinity has not already alerted its caster. The second is a spell known as ‘Guards and Wards’, which is notoriously difficult to dispel. It is designed to impede progress and confuse the minds of those progressing through the warded area, and is notoriously difficult to completely dispel, short of a disjunction which is beyond our present capabilities. However, it may be possible to dispel specific parts of the ward. In particular I would suggest that Alwyn try to dispel the ‘confusion’ effect of the wards, and perhaps the ‘lost doors’ effect. Sefayll or myself should be able to dispel the alarm.”
"Hmmm... Are these alarm functions attached to every entrance in the area? Might not be the best use of dispelling magics wiping them all out."
"On second thought, let's get rid of this thing. Also, what's causing that abominable smell?"
Seeing that Alwyn's dispel seems to have targeted the alarm spell, Elisile weaves her own dispel, focusing on the 'confusion' aspect of the guards and wards - an effect that she believes will cause them the most problems navigating the way ahead.
Sefayll studies the enchantment that Elisile has found and works to tease out and remove the thread that remains.
Seeing that the attempt failed, she bows her head, almost in a prayerful pose, as she calls on the spirit within her that originally caught the eye of the hellknights. Swearing a vow to herself that they would find the missing men, she raises her head and tries a second time.
Alwyn deals with the warning abjuration. Elisile's spell disarms the befuddling aspect of the arcane wards.
"Nice." Alwyn nods in apparent satisfaction as the party spellcasters shred the dungeon's initial line of magical defenses. "Let's find whoever cast thos4e spells, shall we?"
"Yep."
Once the spell casters are happy, Camlo moves forward again, hopefully with Elisile.
Elisile pulls out a piece of chalk. “We will not be able to see far ahead of us in that fog,” she murmurs to Camlo, nodding towards the rolling white fog filling the passage ahead – an effect of the Guards and Wards spell that has not yet been dispelled. “And the others may have trouble following us. I will mark our way.”
She moves quietly forward with Camlo, straining her senses to pinpoint any dangers and guide her forward in the right direction, periodically marking the wall with her chalk.
The adventurers begin to edge out into the fog.
Elisile keeps moving forward at a slow pace, using stealth and perception as above, at this point headed towards N11 unless something prevents that.
Illes keeps pace with the others, one hand out trailing the wall, rapier drawn in the other. "Alright. Let's see what kind of mess they've gotten themselves into down here."
"Indeed." She rests a hand lightly on the bard's shoulder to keep track of his position and focuses on making less noise hoping the magical fog will muffle things somewhat.
"This place..." Alwyn shakes his head in weary disbelief at the party cautiously make their way through the fog.
Judging by the echoes, Alwyn judges this to be a fairly large, long room. Ahead he can hear whatever it is which burbles nonsensically in the fog.
As the group shuffle forwards, they find the chamber narrowing and walls loom on either side. A door stands on the right, although judging by the cobwebs it hasn't been opened in centuries. In the ancient stonework someone - or something - has chiseled endless lines of text covering most of the spare space. Ahead the chamber seems to open out again, the walls disappearing into the mist. There is the sound of tapping, and then a very loud blood-curdling shriek with dies down to general mumbling. The stink of rot is very strong.
Then Camlo will continue... possibly letting Elisile edge forward a little.....
The group shuffle forward a few more feet. Something moves in the fog ahead. A human arm flops down on the ground and twitches, then a leg. A torso scrambles forwards along the floor, horribly twisted, the head wrenched round so it faces backwards but still hideously alive. More body parts flop forwards in a growing, seething mound. The faces are vaguely recognisable as members of the Watch who the adventurers have maybe shared a beer with at the Rusty Dragon or spoken to on business down at the gaol. But they are deformed and mangled, their bodies seemingly dismembered and then melted together into a single shambling whole, slowly rotting even as they live on in mindless horror. Multiple throats howl in agony as the gestalt creature squelches forwards to embrace the Heroes of Sandpoint.
Camlo stops dead, on the verge of retching... "Th.. th... that... That's just n-not right."
"Gah!" Illes recoils in disgust, "What in the hells did that?"
Rather clinically, "It appears to be some sort of undead based on the fact that it is dead flesh given a semblance of life. Are we dealing with a priest of some stripe?. Musing further, "Did they defeat these men first, using them for raw materials, or did they get fused while still alive? And where has your cousin gotten himself to? Which brings to mind the question: will this burn?"