"Then it seems the tunnels it is."
The group of you gather up the loot and previous owner, Tusto. He is on the brink of death and Ark easily carries him like a child nestled safely in his arms. Amekio tries to walk by her own but much to Zolarus's pleasure she uses him as a crutch, which has the added benefit of having a super hot girl rubbing up on him for an extended period of time.
The walk back is short, and noticed. The sheriff meets you on the street with two town guards, evidently someone had alerted the authorities. Seeing Amekio badly beaten and another worst off being carried, puts the sheriff's tone to a stern no-nonsense powerful man of action looking for answers.
Sheriff
What is the meaning of this!?
Amekio passes out from fatigue, Zolarus easily catches her and "holds her up".
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Sighing and smoldering just a little, Tik addresses the Sheriff sarcastically,
"Domestic dispute which apparently had designs to burn your town to the ground.
Demons, burning human remains, etc... You might want to fortify yourself for an oncoming onslaught. Here, read this." She hands the Sheriff the journal.
Pointing at the two unconscious bodies being carried,
"I suggest binding this male elf, Tusto, behind bars. Amekio needs healing. I need a glass of water..."
Arkus follows the others along seeing that they were truly not in a good shape to take on any further dangers. Besides Ale sounded good.
The Sheriff blinks blankly for a moment and takes the book from you. He looks over the pages for several moments with a concerned look on his face. The gathered crowd is unusually quiet for the size it is becoming, and it is gathering new people by the moment. The sheriff clears his throat.
Go get an Ale, we will have words later, thank you.
The sheriff then begins to bark out orders to the townsfolk.
Call the priest, someone get a stretcher or some blankets, bind that man's hands, if he struggles use force, bring him to the holding cell.
Ladies and gentlemen, I am still unclear as to what is going on, but it looks like more goblin mischief somehow. I do not want people to go crazy, or angry mobs roaming the country side looking for little green men. What we do need is people to stay smart, spread the word that all able men are to report to my office for assignment. We will be on high alert watching for goblins. The assignments will be handed out first come first serve, so if you do not want the graveyard shift in the graveyard sign up early.
The sheriff then addresses several other questions from concerned citizens which will take some time.
You all can make it back to Amekio's tavern without any issue, some news has preceded you and there is a heroes feast being prepared for you. Many people tip their hats to you during the night, many try to get information from you but are easily shewed away without causing them insult. The sheriff will join you in about two hours to talk. He brings you into a back room for some privacy.
So I sent some men up to the glassworks, they found Mr. Kaijitsu dead in his glassworks, we healed up Ameiko and she was able to tell quite a tale. The journal filled in the pieces. She said the group of you would be looking into a tunnel of interest. Here this is from my own stash, thank you very much for all you have been doing around here for our town. Keep me informed with what you find in the tunnel. All my men and the townsfolk are preparing to defend against another goblin raid.
Before the night is over the priest will visit you all and heal everyone up to full.
You may continue to have dialog with the sheriff or priest, no rush.
"Tis a sad thing." Arkus begins even as he nurses his ale, the mug cold in his hands.
"Now we have a tunnel to examine, there maybe other things lotiering around here. We should gear up as needed and take the fight to them. At least this way this town would be safe."
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Thank you sheriff. My heart swells knowing Ameiko is doing well and we will need these potions against the perilous journey set before us.
What a beauty she is. What could I do do impress her? Oh, this might capture her attention...
Sensing a vacancy at the tavern as Ameiko recovers from her capture, a son of an inn tavern owner himself dons an apron. He does his best to keep patrons happy and filled with hope. Zolarus serves ale with a smile and compliments the customers on their choices. He slips in a few references to his god Cayden Cailen and encourages able body men to volunteers their service. He even attempts to convert any that are willing and blesses their spirits.
Good gods, good food, good meat. He have said our thanks now let's eat! Several bar ballads later he rejoins his companions and agrees to search the tunnels.
I've got some coin to spend. Let's sell what we don't use and invest in some better armor and weapons. The quality of my blade is the same as a farmer's."
A bouquet of flowers to Ameiko wouldn't hurt either. Zol is off to make a few purchases.
@ Ark
The sheriff nods in agreement to your comments. You do see him try to pay the group's bar tab on his way out; however the bar is not charging you at all because of services you provided for Ameiko. He does however leave a big tip to your serving wench, which increases the already speedy service you have been receiving.
@ Zol
At first the other hostesses are mortified that the town hero donned a apron and began to serve their patrons. The halfling lady you spoke to before chases you around the tavern for sometime trying to get you to stop, at one point she was trying to physically remove the apron. It received some laughs from the tavern goers. After some time she will give up and let you serve a few tables. You definitely lighten the mood and the atmosphere; it becomes less somber and tense with your comedic efforts. Some bar goers jokingly play along with you and to the horror of the halfling start calling you beer wench, this title slowly evolves through the course of the night into "most esteemed baron of the generous beer tap and honorable host of flagons." By the end of the night you have quite a merry crowd singing and dancing to cues. Some even sing the songs of your lord with you, there are some faithful present. All in all the night is great and lots of fun, Amekio will definetely hear about your exploits. The next day some people will approach you about Cayden Callen.
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After a good nights entertainment Tik heads to bed. Shaking her head she mutters "Lowlanders are strange..." in response to the bards comical performance.
Sleeping off the exhaustion and feeling refreshed Tiktaan heads off in the morning with Ark to sell the items not needed. She also tries to find someone to figure out this magical ring...what kind of magic does it offer?
[/ooc]Any monies should be divided, etc...[/ooc]
Going around town one of your first stops to investigate the origin of the magic ring would be to the newly blessed temple of Desna. There the cleric takes a good long look at it and tells you simply It is a minor ring of protection.
I cannot say thank you enough for all you have done for Sandpoint, and the new temple. I hear you all plan to investigate a tunnel of ill repute? May Desna's light guide your path. I do not like to reveal my presents before I myself have handled them; but I may have an associate for you that will assist you with the tunnel. I should know more within the hour, please return shortly while I address the details.
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"Excellent. I look forward to meeting this associate. We are in need of a trapsmith or mage, but any additional help will do. We barely made it out of Glassworks alive. By the way, are you stocked up on wine and spirits? It is the second best holy water for adventuring!" Zolarus says while chuckling.
Arkus looks confused for the moment at the ring before slipping it on his finger.
"Umm...Thank you?"
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@ Zol
Father Zantus smiles at your passion for drink.
Wine, of course! Do not think ill of me but I do have a private collection. Some rare some not, all with unique flavors and boutiques. Wait here.
He scuttles along with a slight skip in his step to his private chambers, returning quickly with a bottle and a few goblets. After handing everyone a wooden goblet he opens a wicker wrapped bottle and smells the cork with a deep inhale and smile. He pours everyone a sensible serving for day drinking in a house of the holy.
I will raise my goblet to your god and thank him for the wine. Cheers! This is a strawberry blush with a slight chocolate infusion that is most noticed in the aftertaste. It is from a vineyard in a Ustralev valley north of Ravengro. It is called a chocolate haunt for the wonderful aftertaste.
He enjoys a sip.
This man that I am trying to arrange is indeed a mage. He does have a unique name, Upfishtim Ibn, Atra...,Ibn, Vald...Ibn, Razeen Ibn Ha Mad Shroomuppack; I am definitely saying it wrong.
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A spindly-armed human steps forth from the temple of Desna. He is clearly awed by the party. He has a bit of fanboi worship in his eyes.
"Um. G-g-g-greetings, heroes!"
He bows very low and with as much flourish as his scrawny frame can muster.
"I am Utnapishtim ibn Atrahasis ibn Ahmad ibn Faldan ibn Rasid ibn Hamad of Shuruppak, and I am at your service. I cannot tell you how pleased I was that Father Zantus suggested I accompany you. Know that I am a loyal companion and I have spent years studying scrolls about ancient Thassilon. I have read about..."
"...the ancient empire of Thassilon (pronounced THAH-sih-lon) occupied most of western Avistan for over a millennium. While its power was great, struggles for control within the nation itself tore Thassilon apart. All that now remains are mysterious ruined monoliths scattered throughout the landscape of Varisia..."
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Utnapishtim nearly has a heart attack. *Gasp!* One of the heroes touched him!
Fort Save:
He starts to faint, but catches himself at the last moment.
"Oh! But, the pleasure is all mine!"
He shakes Tiktaa's hand as vigorously as he can--which is not very vigorously at all.
"You know: A handshake is a short ritual in which two people grasp one of each other's like hands, in most cases accompanied by a brief up and down movement of the grasped hands. When making a bet and confirming the bet with a handshake, it is usually held that the instant the two hands touch willingly, the bet becomes official. Using the right hand is generally considered proper etiquette..."
Father Zantus interjects.
This lad IS VERY BOOK SMART, and IS A VERY GOOD MAGE ACCORDING TO HIS MASTER. His master is a good friend of mine I will add, and can be trusted. He feels some real world experience would do the lad well, seeing how his studies as of late have confined him from socialization. I have been assured he will be a great asset for your investigation.
His hand twitches as the human reminds him all those years ago of those slavers. An axe of maybe his flail buried in his jaw might bring forth some much needed peace and quiet.
His hand twitches and stops as Tiks unwittingly saves Arkus from the Rage.....
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His hand twitches as the human reminds him all those years ago of those slavers. An axe of maybe his flail buried in his jaw might bring forth some much needed peace and quiet.
His hand twitches and stops as Tiks unwittingly saves Arkus from the Rage.....
Perception:
Utnapishtim notices the twitch, and his head tilts slightly to one side.
Sense Motive:
Perhaps naively oblivious, but completely unafraid, Utnapishtim approaches Arkus and offers:
"Fasciculation, or 'muscle twitch', is a small, local, involuntary muscle contraction and relaxation which may be visible under the skin. They arise as a result of spontaneous depolarization of a lower motor neuron leading to the synchronous contraction of all the skeletal muscle fibers within a single motor unit. An example of 'normal' spontaneous depolarization is the constant contractions of cardiac muscle, causing the heart to beat. Usually, intentional movement of the involved muscle causes fasciculations to cease immediately, but they may return once the muscle is at rest again. Fasciculations have a variety of causes, the majority of which are benign, but can also be due to disease of the motor neurons. They are encountered by virtually all healthy people, though for most, it is quite infrequent. In some cases, the presence of fasciculations can be annoying and interfere with quality of life. If the neurological exam is otherwise normal and testing does not indicate any additional pathology, a diagnosis of benign fasciculation syndrome is usually made."
Arkus glares at the oblivious fool.
"Must....control......must...." he mutters to himself....
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Zolarus closes his eyes and dips his nose into the goblet while inhaling the wine's aroma as Father Zantus suggests.
"By Cayden Cailean, this is truly remarkable wine. A pairing with roasted duck followed by pecan pie would be a magnificent. Father Zantus, you are too kind."
He raises his goblet, smiles and toasts the newest member of their party.
"And cheers to Utnapishtim the newest member of our merry band. My name is Zolarus as you might have heard from the tales in Sandpoint. I am pleased to have a mage with us on our next journey. Who knows what magics or ancient lore we will discover? Your knowledge will compliment us like this wine to roasted duck. What shall we call you in the midst of battle as your full name is quite a mouth full? I like the nicknames Uttie, Pish, Timmy or Duck.
Zolarus ponders for a minute the possible outcomes of the mismatched pair of Arkus and Utnapishtim of spending months on the road together. Almost all of them ended with black eyes, missing teeth and broken bones. Poor fellow. He'll learn to keep a safe distance from Arkus, but it will definitely hurt a few times.
Putting his arm around Utnapishtim's shoulder, Zolarus interrupts the lecture and leads him 10 paces away from Arkus.
"Its sounds like you are an expert of human anatomy. However, if you want to keep your anatomy intact, I suggest giving Arkus a very wide berth. His temper is short and his flail's reach is long. Many things anger him and lectures are at the top of his list. Can we call you Prof, short for professor?"
Without hesitation or waiting for acknowledgement, he continues to address Utnapishtim as "Prof".
"Hey Prof, what do you make of this drawing?" Zol hands Utnapishtim the journal and quickly flips to the earmarked page of a half-human and half-beast pictorial.
"Prof, is this a demented erotic fantasy or something that could actual exist?"
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"Hey Prof, what do you make of this drawing?" Zol hands Utnapishtim the journal and quickly flips to the earmarked page of a half-human and half-beast pictorial.
"Prof, is this a demented erotic fantasy or something that could actual exist?"
Utnapishtim is abashed at the thought of being called a "Professor." He's still aglow with hero worship...
"Ah! Yes. Well met, Zolarus! Of course I've heard of you. I follow the tales of your exploits eagerly!
Utnapishtim squints at the picture.
"Now Let me see here..."
He blushes 7 shades of red, each deeper than the last...
"Oh. Oh, my!!!"
He stammers...
"That... That... That... is a depiction of a succubus!"
He considers a moment...
"But the rest of this text..."
"...this reference to Lamashtu..."
Utnapishtim grows pale at the thought of the Mother of Monsters.
"...I... I, just done know!" He says in obvious denial.
Farther Zantus, still in the area.
The mother of hideous beasts and deformity... By Desna's watching eyes! That would explain the goblin scum! Friends do be careful! I will consult the goddess in prayer for guidance.
Unless anyone needs to talk with father Zantus he will walk away to pray and meditate.
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"Unfortunately, even the most hideous little beasts have a divine mother. I would often joke with my young nieces in Riddleport that if they kissed a boy before they reached their womanhood, then Lamashtu would turn their faces permanently green with wicked scars...I, huh, meant no offense Arkus."
Zolarus tips back his goblet and finishes his wine leaving a permanent grin. While conversing with his companions, he refills his wineskin without asking permission.
"I have a quick delivery to make and then I am ready to explore this worm tunnel. Arkus and I have no need for torches, but I suggest Prof carry a bullseye lantern. It will give us additional light for long distances. I don't believe we'll be able to sneak up on goblins, so might as well try to spot them from a distance."
Zolarus delivers freshly cut flowers to Ameiko attached with a short love note and rejoins his companions when they are ready.
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"I'm afraid my frail frame couldn't carry something so challenging as a lantern, Zantus." Utnapishtim offers with a chagrined, sad look. "But I have confidence that my magic can overcome mundane darkness."
While Zolarus is deliverying flowers and Zantus is pondering the implications of Lamashtu's influence, Utnapishtim offers a prayer to Desna, and prepares his spells for the day.
Arkus steps up after taking a good amount of food, drink and rest.
"I am Good." his flail in his hands and his intent to bash in more heads clear.
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his intent to bash in more heads clear
Utnapishtim opens his mouth to greet Arkus, and discuss what may await the party in the area below. Before any words can escape him, however, he remembers his chat with Zolarus. Rather than chat, Utnapishtim decides to respect his adventuring companion's mood. He offers Arkus a simple nod, steps to one side, and readies himself to enter the tunnel.
Doing his best to keep a neutral face,
Utnapishtim considers what he knows and/or has been told about the tunnels.
Utnap-
Knowledge check reveals, a rumor, this tunnel was once used by smugglers and connects to the ocean somehow. But that is only a rumor.
Last call for preparations.
The group of you venture back into the glassworks.
The human bodies have been cleaned up and the goblins incinerated in the glassworks furnace overnight. At the top of the stairs going down to the cellar stands a guard, spear at the ready.
Thank the gods, this has been a lonely spooky post all night. I can report nothing left or entered the stairway. There was no noise or foul things to report either, a blessedly quiet night. Best of luck to the lot of you, I will be on my way. The very tired guard nods in appreciation to the group as he leaves. He lets out a very long yawn just as he is leaving the hallway.
The basement has been undisturbed, and the door leading to the tunnel you plan to investigate is shut.
Please announce the marching order.
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"Slow Burn" is akin to calling a 300 pound man "Tiny". "Short wick" is a better moniker but it doesn't roll off the tongue very well. I see just fine in darkness, so Arkus and I can handle frontal attacks. Trailing lights will help us from being ambushed in our flank although it is unlikely in this tunnel.
A23 SMUGGLER’S ENTRANCE: The long tunnel leading from this room winds for some distance through the bedrock below Sandpoint. Built decades ago by smugglers, the tunnel remains stable and serviceable as it winds lazily northeast for just over 1,750 feet before reaching a dead end.
At the dead end with some searching reveals a secret door that opens into a 30-foot-diameter cave on the side of the cliff overlooking the Varisian Gulf. The cave mouth slopes down to a narrow beach; there is a crude collection of goblin beds or remnants of their meals strewn about the cave by the looks of it several days old.
From the tunnel’s southern half, two side tunnels branch off. One leads east to a collapse after 400 feet, but the one to the west seems to have once been bricked over at the point where it diverges from the main tunnel. This westerly passageway winds for 50 feet before turning north for another 100 feet.
You follow the tunnel for a distance and stop when you notice an opening on your right hand side. Looking up the tunnel more openings can be seen further down on the right. What would you like to do?
[ooc]@Prof, could you pick a profile pic, it will be your avatar on the map, you will be able to move it around.