Grezzor ponders their options for a moment, staring at Sting, then gives him a set of simple orders - "Enter tunnels. Find human head. Do NOT engage in combat - if attacked retreat here. If path is blocked by others, return here" - and sets him at the entrance to the small tunnel ahead of them, sitting closeby in the darkness, waiting and humming.
"I wait for Sting"
With a sense of urgency knowing the trail grows colder by the moment Grezzor sends his bonded scorpion into the tunnel after the rats...
Brok takes his dagger and cuts a few strips of worm meat for future use.
Brok takes his dagger and cuts a few strips of worm meat for future use.
The fetchling watches as Sting skitters off then hugs a piece of wall to settle in for the wait.
As Grezzor waits for any sign of his bonded pet that the head of the one Arlok slew earlier, he feels the empathetic link between Sting and himself growing weaker...
Soon he feels the bond returning to its normal strength and not long afterwards Sting emerges from the tunnel...empty-handed.
"Brok think rats carried off head and not be found here." Brok says as the little scorpion emerges from the tunnel.
"Brok had enough of worm cave for now. Let's go back up and find room to rest in so we can regain strength."
"Goblin Brok have good plan. Arlok agree."
"Well done" - Grezzor nods, retrieving Sting and moving on after the others.
Keil, a look of permanent disgust etched upon his face, spits. The sight of the little bug returning empty handed was to be expected; how was it going to drag a human head out of a sandy tunnel? But without news?
Feeling hunger tickle at his ribs again, the fetchling takes a page out of Brok's playbook and cuts a few slices of protein off of the worm's carcass before rejoining the others back up the stairs.'
'
Grey followed Kiel and Brok to their latest bolthole. He asked Ranulfus to keep watch in the hall outside. He made it clear that the ghoul was not obligated to put himself into danger or guard the door, but only to wake them if there was some kind of danger. The next eight hours were the ghoul's to do with as he wished so long as he also kept an eye on the door and did not do anything to endanger the group.
Once safely inside, Grey took down his hood and mask and went about the business of setting camp. A small fire and a cookpot were readied, his various tools laid out. It all seemed like part of a personal ritual to clear his head. He did not speak much as he went about the business of ending the day.
He doled out the meal to everyone and finally spoke. "I worry that we have become overconfident. It nearly cost us Kiel. Our mistake was going down the stairs, I believe. Each level has contained more dangerous enemies than the last. Clearly we are not prepared for the kinds of threats that lay below us. I wish I could say it was pure power that allowed me to subdue the worm, but it was not. I was lucky."
"As I have been named leader, I'd like to apologize for leading us into such danger. To Kiel, specifically. That should not have happened. In the future, I will try to keep us to more carefully considered choices."
With the question of a watch order taken care of the fetchling shrugs his pack and consumes his meal in silence. The shadowy man waves off the witch's apology knowing full well it was his choice to head down the stairs; there was no prompting. The reminder of the worm sends a shudder down the fetchling's spine, yet given the chance, Keil would probably do it all over again. His mistake, he realizes was in rushing, not heeding the signs of danger which were present in the cavern just prior to the worm's appearance. It was by Hel's hand that he was saved and the fetchling mumbles a quiet prayer of thanks to the Lady of Replete Affliction.
His belly full, the shadowy man curls up in the corner with his pack and settles into a fitful slumber. His dreams are plagued by the crushing force of the worm upon his body. Over and over again Keil sees himself being lifted off the ground by the monster, his body helpless against such a foe. Wanting to save himself his own lithe hand reaches for the cavern ceiling. It is a vain effort yet as the dream plays out, grasping for a hand hold to escape the worm is the only option. He is outside of his body now and Keil sees himself reaching for the cavern ceiling, his corporeal hand never quite touching the cold stone. Desperation takes hold. In an effort to help himself Keil calls out. His speech is garbled but the meaning is clear and he stretches out an incorporeal hand. He can feel the rough fabric of his own sleeve and grips hard but the physical man is too heavy for his incorporeal self and the fetchling is forced to watch the baleful fall to the ground.
The impact with the floor wakes Keil with a start. It is the middle of the 'night' and his heart pounds in his head as the others sleep. Keil wipes sweat from his head as he catches his breath. In the silence of the room he notes a peculiar change. Perhaps something in the air? No. There is a presence, but it is not the dangerous kind. Closing his eyes, Keil breathes deep and on the exhale he understands. A prickling sensation grows over his body and Keil grasps the potential of this discovery. Focusing, the sensation grows into something familiar which he recognizes from the night Grey had aided Keil in the creation of his mask - magic! With a touch of excitement the shadowy man gestures and is thrilled to touch an almost invisible mote of arcane energy, one of many floating throughout the material plane. On an impulse he whisper's the word he'd heard in his dream and the ribbon takes form. Wrapping itself around his hand the ribbon of arcane energy transforms into a copy of the fetchling's own lithe digits capable of...well, the potential is tangible.
Feeling empowered somehow, Keil nods quietly to himself and lets the mote of energy slip away; he can always call it back. The fetchling settles back to the floor content, curling himself around his pack and falls back to sleep his dreams filled with the promise of potential.
He doled out the meal to everyone and finally spoke. "I worry that we have become overconfident. It nearly cost us Kiel. Our mistake was going down the stairs, I believe. Each level has contained more dangerous enemies than the last. Clearly we are not prepared for the kinds of threats that lay below us. I wish I could say it was pure power that allowed me to subdue the worm, but it was not. I was lucky."
"As I have been named leader, I'd like to apologize for leading us into such danger. To Kiel, specifically. That should not have happened. In the future, I will try to keep us to more carefully considered choices."
"The power grows at the tips of our fingers Master Grey" - Grezzor voice rasps in between large gulps of the prepared meal, and slurping in general.
He stops for a moment, flames dancing in his eyes - "Stronger and stronger we will get, until no one can stand in the path we choose" - he seems to be getting slightly carried away, but quickly regains his composure - "The event was unfortunate yes, but not all was luck. Knowledge, timing, and power - all played a part" - he finishes, returning to the slurping.
"Arlok thought Arlok leader, did Arlok miss vote? No matter, Arlok son of God, but Grey right. Arlok still has power to wake up. Arlok need get stronger to defeat dumb goat god."
"Brok not care who thinks who is leader .... Brok is leaf on the wind."
Grey grinned and chuckled. I should have expected as much.
"You are right Grezzor. It was no one thing. With so many potentialities arrayed against us we should all endeavor to be more careful going forward."
Grey began carefully carving his mask, adding runic script to the inside, and bringing out more details of the half-skull on the outside.
---
"You are right Grezzor. It was no one thing. With so many potentialities arrayed against us we should all endeavor to be more careful going forward."
"Yes, yes.." - but by now Grezzor has finished his meal, and lost all interest in the conversation, curling up in a corner with a single candlelight, and going through his spell notes, mumbling and snickering to himself.
The time passes quickly as you all huddle together in the abandoned storage room and spend the hours reflecting upon your narrow brush with disaster, and also on new ways to tackle the challenges ahead. Vargrenz also seems to have made a new discovery in manipulating the aethers that permeate this realm.
Finally you deem yourselves ready to emerge from your resting place. While your room was not disturbed you did hear several groups of humanoids pass by the door...which Ranulfus informs you are those like him...ghouls.
"What do you know of these other ghouls?" Grey asked Ranulfus.
Ranulfus shakes its head in response to the question, "I...not know. Me never seen them before...but they ignore me. They walk by door...many times."
"Brok can track not-deads to lair if group wants." Brok offers.
"Yes. Let's not leave hunters at our backs." Grey nodded, pulling his mask on. It was slowly becoming a work of art. The half-skull had gone from savagely torn looking to elegant lines that Grey had begun to cover in filigree.
As they broke camp and got started, Grey continued speaking with the ghoul. "What are your goals, Ranulfus? What do you want?"
Awakened by Ranulfus' report, Keil uncoils himself from around his pack. The fetchling listens quietly but does not offer anything in the way of dealing with them. Having a witch who has proved to be skilled in necromancy in the party, this reality has made the rogue, if anything, a bit complacent when it comes to undead encounters.
As he waits for Grey's plan, Keil starts his routine, working out kinks by cracking various joints before dipping into one of his flasks - just to get the juices flowing. The shadowy man chases breakfast down with a high protein snack of worm meat then adjusts the straps of his pack resting on his shoulders.
"Want to go see where not-deads hide?" Brok asks Keil.
With Grey likely holding off any concrete planning until more information can be garnered, Keil shrugs his assent at the goblin's suggestion. But before departing the fetchling turns to their resident ghoul, following Grey's questioning with a few of his own, "In which direction do the ghouls pass? Do they pass the same way each time?"
Ranulfus stares at Praetor with an intense look on its face, trying to comprehend the meaning of the question. "Ranulfus...want to...feed....soooo hungry...but what other...goals are there?"
The fetchling's questions produce a more definite response, "They passes both...ways...to doors at end of corridor."
"Many." Grey said. "I'll show you. First though, we need to deal with the other ghouls. Which way did they go last?"
He gave Brok and Kiel a nod.
Grezzor seems distracted with something, but falls in place after the scouts.
Brok puts an arrow to his bowstring and sets out to track the undead.
(underground, undead)
(underground)
(+2 for traps) (underground, danger underground)
Drawing his two short swords the shadowy man slips silently behind the goblin. Keil checks his companions progress subtly nodding approvingly at Brok's thoroughness. Together, the two follow the ghoulish trail and yet the fetchling can't help but wonder if they are heading in the right direction - he'd hate to have a pack of ghouls slip around the corner from behind.
Brok is able to determine the tracks of the ghouls head off in both directions, so it seems either direction will eventually lead to the ghouls.
"So we no worry bout head, that good, eaten by now Arlok think. Arlok follow."
Arlok follows along with Brok and Keil
Brok follows the trail east.
The two scouts proceed down the eastern path, Brok just able to follow the scuff marks in the stone floor, which turns south down past the freezing door and also past the door leading to the skeleton's lair...and onwards past a hundred feet before it turns back to the west. The corridor travels past several doors in the north wall, plus one in the south, before continuing onwards. The tracks do not seem to head towards any of the doors however.
The sight of all those doors going by unexplored begins to unnerve the fetchling. When his mental map starts to look like the group will be walking in circles the shadowy man taps Brok on the shoulder, "Hold. The ghouls will return. We should use one of these rooms to ambush them." Looking behind to the others Keil indicates for the group to stop and makes the same suggestion to the rest. "Better on our terms than chance walking into more than just that group."
"Arlok like ambush. Not like dead things that walk, bad meat, maybe they have kill and bring fresh meat to Arlok. Arlok like that. Which room?"
Brok listens at the door in the south wall to see if there's anything going on on the other side.
(+2 for traps)
and he lightly checks to see if it is locked.
Grey nodded and waited for the scouts to set up an ideal ambush position.
Brok listens closely at the door and is rewarded for his patience by hearing several grunts along with several broken phrases in the Giant tongue. He is pretty sure that the speakers are ogres.
Arlok waits for Brok to report.
"Maybe ogers we lost? Arlok listen, see what doing."
Arlok summons his armor of force and approaches and listens at the door.
"Big 'uns behind door."
"Arlok want to make new frens?"
As Brok and Arlok investigate the ogre room, Keil slips across the hall to have a listen at the opposite door - it wouldn't do to start something and have it rudely interrupted.
"Perhaps they are the ones we met earlier." Grey mused quietly. He idly considered the usefulness of undead ogres while he waited.