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Tog explains "Tog surprisingly bad at climbing, Tog take Potions of bark and wing though."
Tog will take the potions of feather step and barkskin.
The pit is nearly full of crystal-clear water...
Rokdor fits Oldmar's rope about her waist, though the knots he's tied in it make it a bit awkward to work with. As Huck said, the water is quite cold, but it's perfectly still and clear. Rokdor swims easily down to the bottom, where she can see that the object is in fact a bundle of cloth, deep blue in color with a faint pattern of waves stitched into it. She grabs hold of the bundle and bobs to the surface, surprisingly buoyant for a dwarf.
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The dwarf climbs out the other side of the pit and shakes her head vigorously, wishing she'd prepared prestidigitation today. Studying the bundle curiously, she unrolls it and attempts to determine what it is.
Rokdor grumbles softly. "Hrmph. Not my usual way of doing things, but I can try. The runes are very poorly-written... whoever wrote it needs more practice. Let's see here..."
After a bit more grunting and grumbling about people who don't learn Dwarven as a first language and people who think a dwarf can cast spells just because they're a dwarf, the burly female dwarf succeeds in casting the spell. "It's a lot easier to just do this," she adds as an afterthought, tapping her own shoulder and speaking a command word.
Rokdor, looking fetchingly slender as her wet garments cling to her form, holds up the cloth and recognizes it as a cloak. After some study, she is able to discern the magics embedded within it, but is not quite sure what they do.
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"Abjuration? I'm fine with that." Oldmar shrugs and puts it on. He calls across the pit. "See any danger over there, fellows?"
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Tog look at pit, tog scratch head. Tog toss axe across as to not get it wet, lowers himself into the water and pushes off the close side to get across.
Tog raising himself up on the other side, picks up his axe and looks worriedly down at his armor, remembers it's scaled like a fish and decides not to worry.
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Sobestian stands frozen at the edge of the pit, cringing at the idea of swimming across. "Oh dear, this really is dreadful. One might catch a cold, being wet in these cold, damp caves....." With a sigh, he gathers his gear into his backpack, then tosses it over. Lowering himself into the pit, he begins to dog paddle across.....
....and promptly disappears below the surface.....
.....a string of bubbles floats to the surface, but Sobestian remains unseen for more than a ten count....
....finally Sobestian bobs up, breaching the surface like some sort of cetacean, crashing back against the surface and thrashing around frantically. Nearing the other side, he half screechs, half croaks. "Shelyn, help me!"
After leaping and swimming across the pit – or sinking to the bottom and appearing to walk across it, in Sobestian’s case – the party is reunited on the far side. Drying off as best they can, they travel further into the cave. After about thirty feet, after a slight bend in the tunnel, they find a long, wide plank resting against the wall, more than long enough to reach across the pit.
The tunnels continue on, leading deeper beneath the Kortos Mounts until they eventually open into a large cavern. What must have once been beautifully carved reliefs and inscriptions have since weathered heavily, their features dulled and softened to the point that it is hard to distinguish what each once depicted. A wide tunnel exits the cavern on its far side, and blue-burning torches line the passageway’s walls.
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After being pulled to safety, Sobestian lays the cavern floor, gasping for breath. Peering up at his companions, he says. "Thank you Oldman. I was overcome with terror for a moment." Standing and shaking the water off, Sobe looms chagrined. "I would be eternally grateful if we can leave this part out of our report"
Grabbing his gear, he follows along down the tunnel. "These carvings are simply wonderful. I do wonder what they mean and who carved them....." He murmurs aloud as he studies the carvings.
Sobestian’s sharp eyes are able to discern a pattern in the faded carvings, and he sees that one of them depicts an artist, painting murals on the walls of impressive buildings. Huck then notes another carving that shows an armed soldier bearing a lantern through the streets of a city. His study of the religions of Golarion proves very useful here, as he realizes that these carvings must draw from the History and Future of Humanity, the principal holy text of Aroden! The artist is associated with Aroden having painted the city of Absalom with beautiful colors so that it might awe all who visited, and the soldier represents the dead god’s prophecy that the vigilant shall carry light to the darkest corners of the world to banish the shadows.
Huck also realizes that these carvings focus on parables that feature Aroden’s 12 guises, meant to illustrate his hopes for humanity: the artist, beggar, craftsman, farmer, fisherman, hunter, merchant, scholar, shepherd, soldier, tailor, and thief. Sadly, the others are no longer identifiable. Something about these depictions seems strange, however, as if the sections of the holy text depicted are slightly different than those that appear in the known version of the History and Future of Humanity, suggesting that these might represent an earlier version of the work.
Further examination of the carvings proves fruitless, and the Pathfinders decide to continue their exploration, moving into the illuminated tunnel on the far side of this cavern. Passing through the tunnel, the soft light of the surrounding fungus mixes with the flickering blue glow of the nearby torches to reveal a grand chamber. A large pool of water along the chamber’s southern edge reflects the blue and green radiance to illuminate the massive stalactites that cling to the ceiling overhead. Two other tunnels branch off from this area, leading to the east and west.
Rising up from the pool is a column of rock with steeply sloped sides and a flat top, as if someone had sawn off the top of a massive stalagmite. A miniature city carved from this same stone occupies nearly the entire surface. Tiny trinkets such as ancient coins, polished semiprecious stones, and ornately braided loops of string are scattered throughout the diorama, and pale cave frogs clamber atop it. The smooth cavern floor is covered in gravel and pebbles along the edge of the pool, and several foot-long centipedes prowl the gravel in their search for prey.
Kneeling in the water at the edge of the pool is a gillman. He faces the pool reverently, and does not react to the party’s presence.
The gillman does not seem to notice Huck's approach until he is quite close. In fact, it is not until Huck actually kneels in the water and the ripples from his movement reach the gillman's legs that the figure turns to look at Huck.
Sobestian’s waving hand catches the gillman’s eye, and he stands and faces the party, looking intently at Sobestian as the half-elf speaks. He follows the gesture indicating the city, then looks back, and shakes his head - evidently, he did not build it.
He looks over the rest of the party, and it is clear to Huck and Sobestian that the gillman is quite interested in the very damp cloak that Oldmar is wearing, the one deftly retrieved from the bottom of the flooded pit by a buoyant dwarf. The same sharp-eyed Pathfinders also note that there is a folded cloak, lying by the edge of the water where the gillman knelt, of similar color and pattern.
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Sobestian glances at his party members, then uncomfortably clears his throat. "Uh...hullo there. We are exploring these caverns. I notice your cloak there matches the one my friend is wearing. We found one just like it...well, ya, my friend is wearing it. Do you have a twin, who lost theirs? I knew some twin boys, growing up. Their mother always dressed them alike. You could never tell who was who." Sobestian stops suddenly, a thought occuring to him. "Oh dear! Did your twin have something befall them? I'm dreadfully sorry for bringing it up...I didn't know.." Sobestian awkwardly stops speaking, not sure what else to say.
Much to Sobestian’s surprise, a smile slowly creeps across the gillman’s face and, oddly enough, the gill slits along his neck seem to curl slightly upward as well. His blue eyes take on a friendly brightness and he breaks his silence, his voice a bit halting and slow, ”No, I had no twin. But that cloak belonged to one of my people. I am glad to know you did not kill him for it. I fear for what may have happened to him.”
His gaze falls on the cloak and stays there for a long moment, then he turns his face slowly back to Sobestian and says, ”What brings you to this place, sacred to my people? Do you come to worship the dead god of the humans?”
The gillman’s smile grows wider still as Oldmar presents the cloak to him. ”You are very kind. I have not met with such kindness before from surface folk,” he says in his slow, liquid voice. "Forgive my rudeness, I am called Uori.”
Looking around the cave a moment, he continues, ”As to your questions…this cave, and this pool in particular, are sacred to my people, and we come here to worship. The cave was once sacred to the human god Aroden as well. The humans would come here, and perform rituals on the carved city there, and receive boons from their god. But over the past century, the carvings of Aroden in the room you came through have weathered and melted. I expect that soon Aroden’s influence will have faded completely. And that is not the only change to these caverns. Other creatures have invaded this place, not so… polite as you all.”
As he says this last, he gestures with a nod toward openings at the eastern and western sides of the cavern. At the same time, a weariness seems to come over him, and it is clear that he is quite old for his race, though exactly how old that makes him is hard to say.
Uori does not react at all to Rokdor’s question, but he sees that the Pathfinders are all looking at him, expecting some sort of answer, and he says, ”I’m sorry, what did you say?” He then watches her closely as she repeats her question, and it is clear he cannot hear her: the gillman is completely deaf and is reading lips to understand the party.
”I do not know what sort of creatures,” he explains, ”I have not seen them, but others of my people have. Some have come here on pilgrimage and have fled from them. Judging from this lost cloak you found, some of them may have fallen prey to whatever they are.”
He gestures to the east and says, ”All I know is from being here in the past, before the creatures came. That way ends in a dead end. The tunnel to the west has many forks and twists in the passage, but ultimately leads to a large chamber, cut by an underground river. There is a small tunnel visible across the river, but I know not where it goes.”
The gillman's eyes bounce from Rokdor to Sobe, then to the other party members, scanning their faces to see if any of them are addressing him. With a slight shrug, he concludes that in fact no one is speaking.