Your just finished when the sound of even more gnolls from above spur you down the steps, Khalid locating a mechanism below that moves the throne back into place and Grall leading the way with his darkvision.
Nuveril squints around at the garden suspiciously. "How can this grow without sunlight and insects? There must be magic involved," she concludes sourly, her hand going unconsciously to the bronze disk concealed beneath her clothing.
Therrre was a battle herrre...we should be carrreful.
Grall looks around for any traps or things out of place...
detect magic
A slight gasp escapes Linah's lips as she sees the subterran garden. She steps forward with her scimitar extended to better light up the room. "What do you think this is?"
KHALID
LINAH
NUVERIL
SAJAN
ZELADIEL
Recently reminded of the trickiness of illusion, you look around warily, the soft light from the crystals in the roof illuminating the chamber. Grall begins to prowl around, although the big gnoll seems rather distracted.
Zeladiel repeats his trusty cantrip and the rest of you see the mage sway on his feet, nearly overwhelmed by the powerful auras that clash forcibly with his senses. Cable thick stands of evocation, transmutation and abjuration wind their way throughout the garden. As well individual schools focus in specific areas: the roof crystals radiate evocation, the almond tree (and what look like almonds hanging off it) abjuration, the stone sculptures conjuration/summoning. Beneath your feet a very strong wall of abjuration stretches the full length of the range of the spell (even with Zeladiel moving slowly around), a vast sheet parallel to the ground.
All together it makes most of the rest of the magic even the long lived elf has ever seen look like apprentice work by comparison.
Moving around the garden seems to have an invigorating effect on tired muscles. The sound of the water, the warmer air, the smell of the trees, all seem to work to ease away aches and pains, if not suspicious minds.
There seems to be only one exit (other than the way you came), a passage in the east side of the garden. You establish this goes only a little way before dipping down a short set of steps and ending in a set of stone double doors. Something is inscribed on the doors, a message in one of the elemental languages it appears to Zeladiel, although not one he can translate.
Leaving the door for now, you move back through the garden examining the small circular room to its west side. Its purpose is difficult to divine, the chamber empty of furnishings and with a tall ceiling rising up thirty feet to a dome thick with cobwebs.
You discover more mystery in remains on the floor. A circle of ash and charcoal mark what could have been a campfire. Khalid's keen eyes spot scattered foot leavings. Nuveril turns up an empty wineskin. Someone was here before you it seems.
"I'll take first watch, though this place is saturated with intricate and powerful magic."
Zeladiel takes cover behind the left most statue and readies his bow, watching the length of the room.
You ready your own camp, those attempting to relax feeling their eyelids go heavy and those trying to sleep almost immediately doing so...
Khalid listens but cannot hear anything beyond the doors. They open easily enough revealing a, more or less, square medium sized room, again about thirty feet in height.
The inquisitor's attention is immediately drawn to the center of the room where stands a complex metal-and-stone frame that forms a strange bell-shaped cage.
Eight thick stone bars arch down from a support pillar to encircle a fifteen-foot-wide circular section of the room. These bars are five feet apart where they connect to the floor (leaving plenty of space to walk between the bars to the enclosed section so its not much of a cage in terms of function).
The part of each bar where it meets the ground bears strange rune-like projections and what seem to be silently, screaming faces trying to emerge from the stone.
Seeing no obvious exit from the room and no visible enemies (unless you count creepy moving faces rippling across the flat stone), Khalid calls to Zeladiel who verifies that the cage radiates strong transmutation and conjuration/summoning (with the wall of abjuration still under foot).
Careful not to get too close Khalid studies the runes. As best as he can tell the faces are those of earth elementals magically bound into each of the eight stone bars of the cage. The entire thing seems to be some kind of device powered by the creatures.
Writhing faces aside, the device looks presently inert, any trigger not immediately apparent.
Linah keeps a healthy distance between her and the cage. A chill runs down her spine at the though of those screaming faces but she can't bring herself to look away. The light from her scimitar works to bring Linah some comfort and she grips its hilt tightly waiting for Khalid to finish his investigation.
Zeladiel follows Khalid warily.
Knowledge: Arcana
"Hmmm... Elemental binding magic. Possibly used for greater Summoning. I wonder what the trigger is?"
Building on Khalid's findings, Zeladiel divines that the device seems to be activated by the use of magical energies. What type of energy isn't exactly clear although standing inside might provide a clue, the runic symbols all point to the centre of the circle.
"This whole place reeks of magic," Nuveril growls uncomfortably. "My tribe tells the story of a warrior who wandered into a grove like this and laid down to sleep and didn't wake up again for twenty years, his strength wasted away and his blade rusted beside him."
Leaving the elemental powered device for now you return to the side room. Concluding the inscription on the door must be in Terran, Zeladiel retrieves a small book of glyphs from his pack and begins to painstakingly compare them, bending all of his ferocious intelligence to the task.
After a few hours he has it worked out as well as progressing his basic knowledge of the elemental earth language.
“By magic or command shall the Pit of Screaming Ghosts be opened. Earth or air shall mark the way, one more rapidly than the other.”
You prepare your camp, making the best of your unappetising (and diminishing) trail rations and mulling over the shifting focus of your mission. The Carrion King is dead, the gnollish threat to Kelmarane (and indeed all of the northern lands) surely greatly diminished. Yet foes apparently remain, there will always be someone to fight.
Your too far away to hear any commotion from the level above and sleep comes easily and deeply for the majority.
You find sleep more difficult than the others, your subconcious automatically reacting to fight against the garden's affect (even if it is benign).
When you do sleep, dreams come.
First you are flying. Soaring through whispy cloud, the earth just a tiny speck below if it is there at all. You have an overwhelming sense of freedom ... until the sky begins to darken and dark chains manifest from nowhere, trapping you, dragging you down...
Shift.
Your in a pit, only a tiny shaft of light feebly penetrating from a hole miles above. You are surrounded by vague, translucent forms. They want your warmth, hunger for it.
You have companions, they are near. You can't see them but you can hear them, shuffling around, yelling commands, crying for help.
Useless. You can rely only on yourself, your birthright. You will not die here, you will not. You will claim your prize. Screaming you thrust your hands forward and bright fire errupts, burning your enemies to cinders...
You sleep, your body changing, your amulet hot against your breast...
You sleep, the magic of the garden soothing your body if not your mind.
You dream what can only be Vardishal's dreams. They are fleeting, confusing. Battles and dances and feasts. Places of wonder well beyond Golarian.
Most of all you dream of Nefeshti and your brothers and sisters: your beautiful Mistress, brave Kardswann, sly Zayifid, loyal Pazhvann and silent Davashuum. You can see their faces so clearly. Why did they leave you? Why did you fight alone?
There is something .. something you cannot quite put your finger on. Something calls you or you call to it...
You sleep, the magic of the garden soothing your resting body if not your mind and spirit.
As usual you are transported to a place of green grass and blue skies, marble building rising to your side over a sandy beach with azure water beyond.
Tiger says little as you train, new techniques, focusing on dropping your enemies to the ground, your ki seemingly endless. It occurs, as it sometimes does, that you are learning in months what it would take years of patience and dedication to achieve otherwise.
It could be days in this place, before Tiger calls a halt.
He looks out to sea.
Sajan, there is a storm coming. It has been a long time in building. Small things coming together. I do not know how long we will have together. A part, may come my way. It may not.
It cannot be stopped, although it may be endured. If you have the courage and strength. Guard what comes into your possession. Guard it most carefully. But remember that to fail is not failure.
I am proud of you my student. Tiger smiles as you feel the pull back to your body.
Grall peers at the lifeless head as it stares back at him, Anotherrr dictatorrr who would lead my people to rrruin. I guess this no longerrr has a use...
Do we go back up and strrrike some morrre Khalid, orrr find out wherrre this leads us?
Despite the unnatural peace of the room, Nuveril, when she wakes, does not seem to have had a restful sleep. Her eyes are bleary and her face troubled. Muttering under her breath, as soon as she is awake, she immediately reaches for the bronze disk hidden beneath her clothing and pulls it out on top of her armor where she can see it. Moving over near where Zeladiel sits to study his spells and examine the treasure claimed from the bodies of the gnolls, she waits impatiently for him to acknowledge her, then asks insistently, "Elf, what is this thing?"
"Are you sure that is wise, Khalid?" Linah asks the inquisitor. "The Pit of Screaming Ghosts, do we want to open that? Are we sure what it is?"
It matterrrs little, lets be done with opening it and if needed destrrroy whatever comes out of therrre.
Grall moves protectively in front of the group...
Despite the unnatural peace of the room, Nuveril, when she wakes, does not seem to have had a restful sleep. Her eyes are bleary and her face troubled. Muttering under her breath, as soon as she is awake, she immediately reaches for the bronze disk hidden beneath her clothing and pulls it out on top of her armor where she can see it. Moving over near where Zeladiel sits to study his spells and examine the treasure claimed from the bodies of the gnolls, she waits impatiently for him to acknowledge her, then asks insistently, "Elf, what is this thing?"
Zeladiel looks over Nuveril's bronze disk whilst identifying items.
"Nuveril," he sighs, twisting and turning the amulet, "bane of gnolls and slayer of beasts, hammer of destruction and blade of fury, you are my tribe sister and I would be honoured if you would address me by name, unless I have somehow offended you."
Knowledge Arcane
You examines the amulet with care. Its magical aura is stronger now than when you examined it initially.
As you surmised earlier, the item is a jinn seal a device created and used by mortal genie binders. As such it is a very rare and specialised type of magery. Few wizards develop the knowledge and power required to permanantly bind outsiders and even fewer the focus to be a genie binder.
Some more well known items are built to trap and hold a genie inside of it. The medallion is a link to a binding existing elsewhere although physical contact with a weak genie should be enough to bind it. The possessor can use the link to call on the power of the bound genie. To do what becomes fuzzy. The usual purpose is to summon the genie but the medallion seems to empower the holder instead. There is clearly a personal link between Nuveril and the medallion that makes external identification more difficult. It seems to you though that utilising the full power of the item would require Nuveril to be a wizard and genie binder (which is obviously never going to happen) but the link remains none the less.
Two more things occur through your identification and knowledge of arcane lore:
- The most noted and powerful genie binder of the last few centuries was Andrathi, a halfling and reputed mortal lover of the Djinn princess Nefeshti, leader of the Templars of the Four Winds...
- There seems to be a genie currently bound by the amulet :)
You've exhausted the limits of your knowledge about the thing although your master might know more. While not a genie binder or expert on them as such his lifework (as I mentioned a million years ago) is the magic and activities of the Archmage Nex a master at extra-planar bindings and summonings.
Nuveril and Zeladiel speak while the rest of you break your camp and head toward the side room with the odd device, Grall leading the way. Either Rokova was telling the truth with his implication that the other gnolls weren't aware of this level or their too busy or disinclined to follow, there is no sign that you've been followed.
The Carrion King's head rests forlorny where Grall leaves it, perched on one of the granite benches. It is starting to smell.
Zeladiel looks over Nuveril's bronze disk whilst identifying items.
"Nuveril," he sighs, twisting and turning the amulet, "bane of gnolls and slayer of beasts, hammer of destruction and blade of fury, you are my tribe sister and I would be honoured if you would address me by name, unless I have somehow offended you."
She scowls. "Your name is ... complicated," she mutters. "'Khalid.' 'Sajan.' 'Linah.' They are short and simple, easy to say. By the time I twist my tongue around all the parts of your name, the battle is over and the bodies looted." It would seem she finds the lyrical tone and lilt of the elven language intimidating to pronounce.
"It might be a portal of some kind", Linah says looking at the depicted faces on the pillars.
"Zeladiel, if you are going to try and activate it, then at least let me ward you from evil". Linah searches her scroll case for one of her scrolls of Protection from Evil and unfolds it. As she reads the words the paper disintigrates into a thin veil of shimmering light that closes around the elven wizard.
"Nuveril, my name is no more complicated than finding the weakest part of an enemy and exploiting it. You are a smart warrior, or you would not have defeated so many foes. Your excuses dishonour me.
Your medallion is a link to a bound genie, possibly the Djinn princess Nefeshti, leader of the Templars of the Four Winds. Khalid may know more of her. It will let you draw upon her power. It is linked to you, implying that you may be decended from the great Wizard and Genie Binder Andrathi, a halfling and reputed mortal lover of the Djinn princess."
Zeladiel rises and makes his way stiffly to the elemental structure. He casts mage armour on himself, relearns it with his pearl, casts mage armour on Sajan, accepts Linah's protection from evil, then steps into the structure.
Nuveril stares incredulously after the wizard. The sudden disgorgement of specifics is a far cry from 'it appears to be a lucky charm,' the only information he had given her the last time he examined the disk. She stares for several seconds at the carved side with its clouds and lightning bolt, as if expecting to see something different. Then she gets quickly to her feet and follows Zeladiel down the stairs to where the others wait by the arcane cage. "What do you mean, elf? How long have you known these things? Who is bound by this, and what do they want from me?"
Sajan nods in thanks in response to Zeladiel's abjuration.
Zeladiel enters the cage, a frustrated Nuveril stopping short.
As he passes through the "bars" the entire device grinds and begins to shift and shudder, as if it were waking up. The shifting movement of the faces becomes more frenzied.
The elf takes a few more steps to the centre of the enclosed area.
At this point, the stone floor itself begins to gently ripple and swell, almost like the surface of a wind-tossed lake, although the undulations aren't quite enough to threaten his footing.
Runes rise up from the floor, only to sink back down and rise again elsewhere. These seem to repeat the inscription from the door.
Unaffected, the rest of you watch the elf move up and down as the floor under him shifts.
Earrrth shall marrrk the way, maybe we should thrrrow some dirrrt on it?
Zeladiel shouts out a single word.
Whatever it is, it produces a result.
The small section that the elf stands on in the very middle of the cage stays in place but the rest drops away, the stone and earth itself liquifying with a glugging noise and spiralling downward like water down a drain, the silent faces going with it.
In mere seconds where once was solid rock is a set of spiral stone steps going further down into utter darkness, Zeladiel standing at the very top. The elf judges they will cut straight through the wall of abjuration magic that he and Khalid detected.
Shining a light down produces the same result as before, there is no telling how deep the steps go.
Grall nods his head and looks to Zel, Down...there might be anotherrr way out???
"What? Out the bottom side of the world?" Nuveril scoffs. "It is a prison, not an exit."
"If should not have opened this portal if we did not intend to move into it", Linah tells Nuveril. She lights her scimitar and follows down the stairs. "The dawnflower will guide us through."
Sajan sighs heavily as Nuveril makes her usual protests, but by now he has learnt its usually futile to try and change them.