Warren nods and smiles.
"Shall we go right then. We really want to take the most direct route. I would worry that the side passages will lead us astray."
Tuney and Montey each ride on a shoulder, not happy to be in cramped quarters.
Stellan listens to Andrei's description, after a bit he tries to clarify a point, but it doesn't lead to a firm conclusion. To Andrei and anyone nearby, "Well, to sum up, I think that it's a divine blessing, not powerful, of the healing path. But it seems to have something else involved, not sure but since I do have to guess, I'll guess: illusion magic. That seems odd. What do you think, Anwel?" Stellan turns to the far more experienced mage in such matters.
"I suspect that these utensils are not in fact magical, and that your divinations are being fooled," says Anwel. "Among the powers the gods grant their servants are the capacities to create mighty and cunning illusions," he says, visibly shuddering at the thought - or the memory. "But a mighty spell would proclaim itself without resorting to trickery, and a cunning one would not be placed in such a setting. This bears further study, but we are not currently equipped to undertake a thorough magical investigation, and our need for speed is pressing. As such..." He tips the waterskin over, filling the cup almost precisely to the brim. "We shall resort to speedier methods." He grabs the cup and quaffs the water without spilling a drop. It tastes of accumulated dust and grit.
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"Can't we just take them things, so you magic types can study them in your own time. Unless it's important, we're down here as tasty morsels for any cave creature that happens by." Gorax says, still uneasy. He peers at Anwel and Stellan as he shifts his weight for foot to foot. His sword, unsheathed rests, its point drawing circles in the dust on the ground.
Anwel drinks the water. For a few heartbeats little happens, but then he begins coughing and choking as severe pain lances down his throat and through his stomach. The husky, mocking laughter of a woman echoes through the cave as unnatural wisps of shadow circle around the elf for a few seconds and then dissipate.
Anwel drops to his knees, his chest visibly heaving. Something, however, keeps his lips sealed and his throat working to shove the water down into him. At the sound of the laughter, Anwel gasps and his elbows buckle. He falls completely prone, hugging his arms tight around his chest and coughing violently. Spittle mixed with flecks of blood and what looks like a black, oily liquid sprays from his mouth. "I'm sorry," he moans. It seems like the first time you have heard him use a contraction. "It won't happen again. I swear it..." Tears begin leaking from his eyes, streaking the grit of the cave floor in black trails down his face.
It takes Anwel almost a minute to regain his composure, though the spasms that bespeak a repeated, stabbing pain in his insides subside much sooner. Slowly, he rolls back onto his hands and knees, then spits out a great globule of black-stained phlegm. He looks at it disgustedly for a second, then grinds it maliciously into the cave floor with the heel of his hand. "Ironic," he says, looking at the ground. "Anyone else trying that would have been safe. I was wrong; that cup, and possibly the platter, have been touched by Erastil's power." He rises to one knee, and, clutching the wall, manages to push and pull himself into a standing position. "The illusion, it seems, was meant for me. It is a message: my mistress does not wish me to handle Old Deadeye's relics. It is probably in my best interests to comply, though the lure of penance is tempting." His mouth twists into what might under other circumstances have been a sarcastic smile, but which now comes out as a kind of pained grimace. "Not that I would dream of coming between Warren or Thad and the chance to handle the Seed."
Stellan leaps foward to Anwel's side with great concern as the consequences to his rash action turns nearly deadly, "Anwel, what's happening?" Stellan asks very urgently, when hearing the answer, he is worried that any application of magic might make things worse; Stellan checks Anwel over mundanely.
Diagnose Anwel. Would magic healing by Stellan harm him?
Understand the magic involved if I can.
Warren recoils from the sounds and shadows.
He looks at the cup and platter with awe and surprise.
"Holy relics! And further meddling from powerful magic."
Still, Warren is careful to catch the cup before it falls. Unfortunately he is too slow. Curious, he pours some water in the cup and drinks from it.
Udoeak pats Anwel on the back, helping him empty his throat/lungs of the blackish phlegm. Are you going to be okay? he asks, helping the elf to his feet if indeed his help is accepted.
Warren drinks from the cup and for a moment a aura of soft yellow light dances around the druid before fading away.
While you enjoy the sense of restoration, you notice the outline of an elk's head set over the entrance to the left hand passage. It is outlined in a softly glowing yellow aura.
Imon watched the proceedings with wide eyes. He knew one thing for certain, he would not be drinking from the cup. He didn't know if anything bad would happen to him, but he didn't want to take chances. [b]"What do you mean, it was warded for you? You mean that she came here and cursed this thing, just for your benefit?"
"I cannot discount the possibility," says Anwel. His robes have begun to turn sickly green again in places, and he touches them up with his magic. He is relieved to see he still can. "She is more than capable of such a feat. Though her magic is her own, not any blessing of the Dark Prince's, and it would not have seemed divine unless she had hidden its nature with further illusions." Anwel's reference to Zon-Kuthon is not as dismissive or flippant as his references to other gods have been. He seems to regard the god of pain with respect, if not quite reverence.
"It is also possible," he continues, his voice cold and tight, as if he is controlling every little motion of his lips, tongue, and throat, "that she has prevailed upon some local shadowcaster to do her bidding. This is in some ways more worrisome, if you recall my mission; were it true, it would render my continued existence superfluous. Finally," he concludes, "it is also possible that there is an enchantment placed upon me that I am not aware of, and that it interacted with the spells Erastil placed on his relic. This possibility is both the least and the most dangerous. Since she would have ensorcelled me before I left, it means she did not have to come here. On the other hand, it could have further, unknown, effects.
"I will be fine," he says to Udo and Stellan as they fuss over him. He is obviously lying; the strain in his voice and his earlier convulsions proclaim as much. "Though that will not be for a while," he admits reluctantly. "But look," he says, gesturing with his hand at the druid. Anwel seems to want to change the subject. "It seems Warren has discovered something more germane to our mission."
Warren smiles, a look of idyllic bliss on his face. The concerns and worries seem to have instantaneously disappeared.
"I cannot just keep this to myself." Then a look and nod indicate Warren has come to a decision. He fills up the goblet.
After a few moments, he walks decisively over to Gorax. "My friend, I think this is magic even you will appreciate. I encourage all of you to drink from this cup."
Warren offers the cup first to Gorax. After Gorax, he indicates to Imon that he should drink too.
"Imon, Erastil himself gave me great comfort and insight. I cannot keep such a gift to myself."
Imon raised his hands. "I don't know if I should. I don't know if the gods are envious, but I don't want to risk Abadar's wrath. Though I suppose that he and Erastil are of one mind on a great many things. . . He trailed off, but it seemed clear that he was waiting to be convinced, and that it likely wouldn't take much.
"I think Abadar will be fine. Gozreh was!"
Warren nods to Stellan. "You don't want to miss this toast!"
Warren moves the water from the cup to test if the water needs to be sipped directly from the cup.
"Perhaps a detailed description of the effects would be more tempting than simply saying how good the drought is, Warren," offers Anwel. "From here, it looks like the drought thoroughly refreshes the drinker, and some mild euphoria is in evidence as well. Is that the extent of it?". Anwel seems curious, but also wistful; he deserves the experience he got, but he regrets the opportunity to have a different one.
If anything his examination and Anwel's comments leave Stellan even less happy. "I'm not sure how to deal with that Anwel, if she marked you like that there should be a trace of such magic on you. And Andrei's discription leads me to believe that the cup was somehow ensorcelled. Pretty bold to tamper with holy relics of a god but some people can't resist a challenge. Of course you've implied that your Uhm, mistress as you say, has access to other resources, with connections to dark powers. I'm still wondering how, these magics are beyond my knowledge; I'm not sure if my powers would do you harm now. How can I help?"
After Warren's endorsement of the power of the cup, Stellan accepts the cup and drinks, "Thanks to the great spirit of the forests, who fathers the spirits that guide the wild lands."
"Simply try whatever you can," says Anwel. "You have my consent; I am aware of the risks, and I trust you. If it works as you intended, then all is for the best. If it does not, then there is no harm done. If it backfires, well..." In the silence, you feel the weight of Anwel's regrets, but also a cynical kind of acceptance. If what he has been is all that he can be, then there is nothing more to be said or done.
Andrei speaks quietly but ernastly "Why is everyone so foolhardy when comes to this woman, she may or may not be watching right now and given what just happened I suspect that is more likely than at some random time. She has certainly has watched us recently if she put this magic here rather than on Anwel whcih seems likely."
Andrei raises his hand to Warren "Sorry Warren, I won't drink from the cup. While it looks good, who knows what other magics she put on it or if it is entirely her creation rather than from Erastil." Besides Erastil, and Shelyn might be fine with it but Calistria's jealousy would be far more dangerous than any of their other problems.
Turning back to Anwel "You seems to have most a lot of another kind of liquid of life, let me help you." The last words seem to carry some magical weight as he touches Anwel he feels better.
"It is Erastil's," says Anwel firmly. He coughs into his sleeve as if the assertiveness cost him too much effort. "Very specifically his."
"Very well, I will try it. I know of no vendetta's against me, certainly none so strong as to tamper with the workings of the gods." Imon took the cup if it was offered again and drank from it, waiting with no small amount of fear for the results.
Stellan start to take the drink while pondering Anwel situation. As he raises the water to his lips, Andrei interjects with his concern over the dark lady's actions. "I'll trust Warren's judgement in this, Andrei, I think it's a specific event but I cannot prove it." Stellan wonders then at Andrei boldness as he does a working of a minor healing on Anwel. "And if you are so concerned, why do an action that might bring about an early confrontation?"
Stellan though pauses long enough for others to take or refuse the offered water before his takes it himself.
Andrei works his healing magic on Anwel and all seems to work normally as the elf's internal damage is fully healed.
The water flows down Stellan's throat with a wave of pure bliss. A smile breaks out on Stellan's face as the balm sweeps all fatigue and pain away. He quickly refills the cup and offers it to Vinur. "Come friend and drink of this gift of Ol' Deadeye, father of the creatures of the woods as Gozreh is the mother. Be welcome into the blessings of the great spirits." Vinur laps up the water from the cup, then Stellan passes it on, oblivious to any that might object to sharing a cup with a wolfling. "That was remarkable. I feel more refreshed than I have in years."
Stellan looks to the the tunnel, "Do you see the Image of the Elk over that left passage? Maybe that is his sign to go that way intead, prehaps that lead to the holiest sanctum of this temple. What do you think Warren? It's less traveled and I think less recent but maybe that weighs in its favor."
Imon looked disappointed, as though he had been something far greater than what had happened. "I don't get it," He said, incredulous. "Sure, it was clean, and tasted good, but I don't see what all the fuss is about. . ."
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Gorax looks at his friends, "Now we're all feeling the benefits of that water, refreshed and ready to go, can we go on now. We've spent too long playing with whatever this god, what's his name? Has left us as a gift. Let's continue to make sure it's safe here." says Gorax, his face seemingly glowing anew, although his agitation remains.
"I received some divine insight about which way to go. I was hoping someone would confirm my findings. I thought if I told you what Erastil revealed to me, it would predispose you to believe the same thing. Anyway, Erastil says to go this way and Stellan received the same message."
Warren puts the artifacts in his pack and leads the way to the left. He makes sure that all have had a chance to drink from the cup.
Well isn't that nice. Let's get going, then. We've spent enough time here.
Udoeak motions forward, taking a spot in the back to watch our collective backs.
"Your testimony would have been enough, Warren," says Anwel, taking a deep breath. Gingerly, he puts one foot in front of the other, stumbles, and grabs the cave wall again to steady himself. "Udo, I think I will walk with you if you do not mind," he says, letting the others pass him so he can remain close to the other elf.
Udoeak nods. "Of course it's not an issue, Anwel," he says, supporting the elf if it's necessary.
Stellan reluctantly leaves Anwel in Udo's care and walks to the front. "Yes, I do think we are being guided in this way, but surely it can't be quite this easy, we must be wary. I'll be right behind you then, Warren." Stellan follows Warren as he leads the group deeper in, check for anything interesting or dangerous.
See anything?
Tracks, ambushes, other trouble in the way. Also hazards, including getting lost.
Andrei makes sure all the others are in front of him before bringing up the rare. As starts walking he casts detect magic.
The party carefully navigates the strewn rubble covering much of the left passage for several dozen feet. Once past the debris the narrow passage begins a fairly steep climb. After a good hour of hard hiking up the tunnel, the passage suddenly opens onto a wide ledge. The the left of the opening is solid rock while the path continues to the right for about another twenty feet but then stops abruptly at another wall of stone. The ledge itself is about fifty feet wide before it ends overlooking a deep pit that disappears into darkness.
Anwel digs around in his pouches and pulls out a beeswax candle. Its outer layers seem to have softened and in the pouch, so that its shape is somewhat distorted. Keeping it in one hand, Anwel then takes out his firelighter and starts the wick burning. The corners of his eyes and mouth tighten as he concentrates, and the candle starts moving out over the abyss. "Can anyone see if there is another opening on the other side?" he asks.
"No but let's have better look. Andrew seemed to relax during climb but when he steps out on the wide ledge he stay near the wall. Moving to the left he cast detect magic again.
Looks like a helluva drop... Udoeak says, looking down, first, then out towards the other side.
Stellan stops on the ledge looking about his eyes drawn to the writing in the stone. "Hello, there's more writing on this stone to the rightward path to that stone wall there. I see the Elk-Head mark that is a reference to the Father of the Forests. I'll try to make out the writing, good idea if others do as well. And please be wary of the edge to that pit, looks like it may be a long way down."
Stellan attempts to read and interpret the writing.
Any mysteries to unravel?
Maybe the writing tells part of a story, does this give context?
Those that lived and worshiped here were at one with nature, any insights from this?
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Gorax shrugs, "Dunno what you're doing, but its as far as we go. Its a dead end here, let's have a drink before we make our way back. Whatever words your father of the forest has left, it's been such a time since anyone came this way, it is probably forgotten." Gorax sits his back against the wall, taking a piece of jerky from his pack and chewing it.
Deciding to shed some proverbial, and not so proverbial light on the situation. He bent to pick up a stone from the ground and said a few words to it. He held it high over his head when it began to glow, hoping to get a better view of the surroundings. If he couldn't see a way to move on, he would hurl it straight ahead as far as he could, in hopes of at least seeing how far the hole went down.
The light provided by Anwel and Imon reveal that the cavern is about one hundred feet across and about two hundred feet deep. When Imon's light enchanted stone falls to the bottom, the faint sound of a splash echoes back up to the ledge. The light glows eerily as the stone continues to sink below the surface of the water.
With the echoes of the splash still whispering through the cavern, Tuney lets out another alarmed chirp.
Writing circles the outside of the mechanism and reads, "From darkness to light to darkness flows the cycle of the natural world. Those who seek the seed must know when to reap and sow."
The outer 'wheel' has four images inscribed on the stone. At the top is a tree stripped of leaves and covered in snow and ice, ninety degrees to the right is a tree in full bloom, the bottom of the wheel shows a tree filled with fruit, while the final image shows a tree whose leaves are dropping to the ground.
The inner wheel is divided into twelve 'wedges' each with it's own distinct symbolic image of the moon.
Warren looks around, but cannot locate the source of Tuney's anxiety.
"I have no idea what to expect. But Erastil is guiding us. I am sure we can triumph."
The druid readies his loaded crossbow.
"Anyone see anything yet?"
With the memory returning to him, Imon suddenly drew his bow and nocked an arrow, aiming it upward. He wondered if the beast Vrag could see in the dark, perhaps that was the true reason he'd remained outside, that he knew what sorts of creatures the group would be attacked by. "An old man told me a story about a place like this once. Long story short, watch out for bats, very large bats."
Warren grabs his holy symbol and chants.
A portal above him starts to form.
Summon Nature's Ally 1
Stellan says "The writing appears to be some sort of test, if your knowledge of nature is enough you could pass." Stellan starts to describe what he saw in detail.
Stellan breaks off as others prepare, "Something up?" Stellan looks around uncertainly.
Vinur sniffs about as the others make him nervous.
... and is even more uncertain than Stellan.
Stellan starts to describe what he saw in detail.
Anwel calls his candle back to him and has it float over the rock face Stellan had pointed out. He is quickly absorbed in contemplation of the puzzle, to the exclusion of much else. "When to reap and when to sow, hmm," he muses. His hands go back to his pack and draw out the almanac he uses to make sense of his navigational sightings. "This can tell us moonrise and moonset times for all the days of this year, and on which days the moon will be in which of its eight phases...which does not seem to help much. Those twelve symbols more likely correspond to months." He flips to the beginning of the entries for Pharast, hoping to find a symbol that matches one of the stylized images of the moon.
Warren muses: "I would think following druidic teachings to reap in the fall under the beginning or harvest moon and sow in the planting moon five months later."
Warren turns the outer dial to the picture of the tree dropping fruit and the inner to the moon in what he expects to be the sixth spot or the planting moon.
If the moon dials refer to phases of the moon, Warren sets the inner dial to correspond to the new moon.
"If we are planting by moon phase, we start with the new moon. Assuming no drought of course."
Andrei smiles, "Sounds good to me, not that I had a faintest idea. Just give me a moment to get back from the edge its a long way down." Andrei retreats back still following the left hand wall.