<<Fountain water comes from below, bad for tari but make food grow>> the tari guide mind-speaks to Grit when the druid asks about the water in the moss-filled room. The water trickling from the cracked marble font is visibly tainted, with a gray cast, but doesn't seem to have a negative effect on the moss and other plants growing in the room. Several shallow hide bowls sit near the basin - it looks like the tari use them to irrigate the moss farther from the fountain.
If given time Grit will try to cast his Purify Food and Drink magic on a small bowl of the water. If it seems successful he will taste it explaining This could be a chance to drink our fill and top off our supply.
Raun looks at herself for the first time since the fight as Grit questions her on her state. She looks terrible but as she pokes at the various sources of the blood drips and other trails across her body she does little more than let out a grunt. "They'll be okay... Think kreen made them better already."
You wait in the chamber only a few minutes before the door opens again. Several tari guards bristling with bone blades stand outside, but a stooped figure in a ragged but brightly-colored silk robe waves them off and enters the room. Dipping his head in acknowledgment, the robed tari flips back his hood to reveal a wizened, white-furred face -- and a third eye that begins burning with a colorless flame as it opens.
Not a true eye, you realize, but a gemstone mounted on an intricate silver band. Meeting your gaze, the tari chief speaks carefully in the trade tongue common in the Tablelands.
"Greetings to you, surface-dwellers. I see your time with us has been painful, but hopefully will not remain that way. I am Chech-Ka, elder and chief of the Split-Tooth tari. I understand you seek the druid?"
Seeing your acknowledgement, the tari continues, his tongue growing more comfortable around the words of the Common tongue:
"Yes, your druid passed through here, half a moon's pass ago. He came among us in the guise of a tari, but revealed himself to me before asking for passage below. I warned him of the danger but he insisted. I fear he may have learned the reason for my warning, for the way below was closed soon after he passed, choked by black roots stronger than tari teeth."
"How much do you know of the druid's prey? Of this place? Well, gather round and I shall tell the tale, as I do to the new litters each year at high sun."
Levering himself down to floor, the old tari assumes a position in the middle of the chamber.
"Ages ago, before the tari came to these halls, before it was swallowed by the Maw, this place was a shrine and a school for those seeking to master the Unseen Way. Many studied under the tutelage of the Founder, who first bore the Holy Eye. In its light I have read the scriptures written upon these walls, but I do not know the Founder's name, only his fate."
"The Cleansing Wars came and the Founder and his school stood against the Champions who sought to eradicate the tari and other non-human races. Two Champions, the Tari-Killer and the Dwarf-Butcher, did battle with the acolytes here, tearing open the very earth to swallow their enemies."
"Using the Way, the Founder managed to preserve this place as it slid into the darkness, but the strain was too great. He died soon after. The halls were quiet until the blackheart Dote Mal Payne walked among them."
"A necromancer in the service of Tyr's King Kalak, Dote Mal Payne forever searched for new and more powerful techniques for enslaving the dead and drawing on the power of the Grey. He found few secrets here, but used the chambers below to perfect his experiments. One of his creations - a great tree planted in defiler's ash and fed the blood of the living - still grows below."
"When Dote Mal Payne left to wander other dark paths, the tree remained. The gith worshiped it for a time but eventually were driven out by wandering wise men who burned the tree but failed to eradicate its roots.The Split Tooth clan settled here, ever wary, but the blackened roots grew no closer until the elves came."
"The elves killed two dozen of our tribe before I called off the battle and let them pass. A day later the earth shook and snaking, black roots rose from the passage below. I sent scouts below. Only one returned, mad and babbling about unliving elves and his escape from a great black tree that sucked the life from his companions."
"Your druid, Durwadala, seemed to think he could withstand such a horror, but he did not return. Half a day after he left, roots from below grew up, choking off the passage to the lower level. I do not know his fate, but I fear it was not pleasant."
"I would offer you the same advice - to turn and go back to the sunlit lands. But if you insist, as the druid did, there may yet be a way to the levels below."
His speech at an end, Chech-Ka studies you keenly as he waits for you response.
The kreen dips his head back to the tari chief as a show of respect and sits after he sits, listening intently to his tale.
<<We should recover our strength before going. But we must go. Grit, we should look for Durwadala's signs.>> the kreen says to his clutch.
The druid is my friend and mentor Grit explains. And this tree that drinks blood and suck up the life of the living - It is an abomination to nature. If I have the power to destroy it I will. After recovering our strength we will go below. If you can show us a way I would be grateful.
Safia had been quiet during the trip through tari territory. Lost in her own mind her feet simply followed the others.
When the elder tari chief spoke about a necromancer and getting power over the Grey she cocked her head. That was a fool's way and you would eventually pay for it with your own blood. The Grey wasn't commanded, it was requested, used as a tool but never used up. Seeking to control it was folly.
"I must see these roots that locked off the entrance. If the roots hold a connection to the Grey I will know and if so I must know what it is. I need to know how it is connected." If a plant could be connected to the Grey so could many other things. Maybe it would help her understand why she was connected to it, how that worked.
Chech-Ka turns to address Safia.
"I can show you the black roots, but I do not think they will open, even for one such as you."
The ancient tari turns to Grit: "And I can not simply show you another way down - you will have to open it yourselves."
"I have explored much of these ruins since our tribe settled here, studying the writings in the light of the Founder's Eye. But one section has remained locked even to me, and I suspect, to Dote Mal Payne before. In the southern section of these ruins, beyond the areas claimed by the gith and near the ruined tower you entered through, is a stone door that so far has resisted all attemps to open it, through cunning or brute force. In the center of the door is a carved depression similar to a quartered circle.
"Years ago, while exploring the lower level, I saw an identical depression on another, leading me to believe that between them lies a passage between the two levels. I have searched the ruins many years looking for a key to match those doors, but only recently saw one - hanging from the neck of the gith chieftain."
"Here, I think, is where our goals intertwine. You kill the gith chieftain and take the key, gaining access to the lower levels. With their leader dead, my warriors should be able to drive the remaining gith from their lair, ensuring that - should you not return from the depths - my people won't be caught between enemies on this level and the one below."
"Now come, follow me. We can talked more on the way," the wizened ratman says as he rises on creaking joints.
Outside, he motions for his guards to lead the way down the columned hall to the door at the west end. Through that, you enter a great chamber - smelling strongly of musky fur and refuse - that serves as the tari's central warren. Pushing through the curious crowd, Check-Ka leads you into the remains of another circular tower that once served as a throne room of sorts.
At the center of the room, a gnarled mass of black roots completely fills what appears to have once been a central staircase. Now the passage is blocked by the root wad, which appears lifeless and hard as stone.
"So, what do you think?" Chech-Ka asks. "Will you kill the gith chieftain and claim the key, or head back to the sunlit lands and try to forget you ever set foot in this place?"
"One such as you"? What did the tari chieftain see in her that made him talk like that? It was strange, maybe something to ask later.
When they arrived at the mass of black roots Safia hurried over without hesitation, placing both hands on it's surface in hope that it would tell her something about what was going on. If the Grey was used to infuse the things she should feel it, or so she believed.
Grit will also "touch" the black roots, knowing that normally such growth would not slow him (Woodland Stride). He does not expect it to work, but if it does not then it should be magical in nature and he will detect magic to see what he can learn.
Raun listens curiously to the tale the chief tells, it is rather interesting, even if she looks distrustfully at his gem and the walls around her when he explains these ruin's purpose. When he explains about the roots and the door she hefts her hammer in her lap. "Raun hasn't tried to open it yet." she observes, bouncing the hefty weight against her palm.
She follows the others when they leave for the roots, looming over Grit and Safia as they rush forward to the blocked passage. The pair prevents her from swinging her hammer, so she instead gives one of the roots and experimental push and a small kick with her foot to get a sense of the thing's toughness.
Nnn'tkklik'l examines the roots as well, thinking about if he had heard of anything like them before.
<<what about you? do you know anything of such roots?>> the kreen asks of the spirit in his crystal.
There is no sign of life left in the roots, which have taken on the hardness and density of stone. Raun thinks she might be able to chip off a flake here or there, but there's so much of it clogging the stairwell you'd be better off mining a new passage. Nor do the calcified roots yield to the druid's touch.
The roots are infused with the taint of defiling magic, which normally would be inimical to a living plant.
The roots are infused with the taint of defiling magic, which normally would be inimical to a living plant. There is a faint aura of necromancy, as well, lending credence to the claim that Dote Mal Payne had a hand in the plant's creation. You do not sense that the stone roots remain connected to the unnatural plant that spawned them, however - at this point, they are merely stone.
The roots have a faint connection to the Gray, but they are not infused with it. Instead, you get the sense that the plant feeds on the Gray, devouring the souls of those it slays and preventing their spirits from ever reaching that place.
<<I have never seen the like>> the Warden says, rousing from his torpor. <<I sense the taint of the defilers upon it, however. That scent I know well. They were ... my foe, I think. Yes, of that I am certain.>>
This is no plant. It is a carving of roots in stone. He casts his Detect Magic spell and studies the auras.
The stone roots are infused with a taint of defiling magic. There is a faint aura of necromancy. Perhaps Dote Mal Payne had a hand in the plant's creation. These stone roots have no longer have a connection to the unnatural plant that spawned them. They are now simply stone.
<<Your enemy the creator of undead?>>
<<No, I do not recognize the creator of this plant. But I have battled other defilers whose foul magic drained the very land of life.>>
Safia cocks her head sideways and starts mumbling some words before her eyes become hazy, which does not seem to bother her.
"Stone. We must find the living tree and destroy it. It disrupts the flow, eats the soul. If we kill it we restore the natural process, maybe even free those consumed." She was far more determined to destroy this tree than she had been before. The tree was an abomination that needed to be destroyed. Yet, on the other hand, it might be interesting to get part of it and keep that alive. Some souls disrupted the Grey when they passed, dominated the area they came through, souls of defilers. Maybe using this plant's hunger upon those was a poetic justice.
Chech-Ka watches silently as the group inspects the petrified roots before gesturing back the way you came.
"You are welcome to rest in the room where we spoke earlier, and to fill your waterskins from our own stores. But the time for a decision draws close - Will you return to the sunlit lands above, or claim the key from the gith and continue on below?"
Grit looks to his party before responding. I will not desert a friend. I choose to continue on, claiming the key from the gith to do so.
Raun waits until everyone has finished poking at prodding the roots before taking a couple swings regardless of the seeming futility. She doesn't persevere with it though, lowering her hammer with a grunt after only three or four strikes.
When the chief asks them if they wish to continue the giantess just shrugs. "Need to save Druid to work for dwarves."
"Yes. Must find Durwadala."
"We need to remove this 'tree' before it's roots corrupt more than they have done already. If it stays here your tribe isn't safe from it either." The druid was something for the others to worry about, this was far more important. This thing was a taint, an abomination that had to be either destroyed or contained.
Gorkhan shrugs. "The gith weren't particularly hospitable to us. I wouldn't mind a little payback. Getting the key so we can follow the druid is just a bonus."
Nodding in agreement, Chech-Ka leads you back to the room with the mats to rest. A short time later, a pair of tari enter with a large urn of water, much cleaner than what you saw flowing from the fountain to the east. They do not bring any food - Check-Ka apologetically explains that the tari typically make do with food that would make human quite ill.
You sleep, then begin making preparations for the next day's assault. Chech-Ka returns, carrying with him several charcoal sticks.
"This passage here will give you access to the gith lair. It is filled with traps and poisoned stakes, but we will disarm those that we can - others you will simply have to avoid. Once through, you will find yourselves in long, columned hall, similar to the one here in our warren."
"The gith females and the children dwell here , but the warriors are scattered among a number of chambers, although I can't say with any certainty how many are where. The chieftain, however, can be found here - he rarely lives those chambers - one of our elders who has a talent for far-seeing has confirmed it for me."
"He will be guarded, but our warriors will try to draw away as many as they can, launching their assault here just before your own. You will have to sneak or fight your way into his chambers and retrieve the key, then return to our warrens the way you came."
Chech-Ka looks at you apologetically. "The warriors tell me some of you may have ... difficulty moving quietly. This may help," he says, handing you a fist-sized lizard's egg. "Break it and all sound will be stopped, but only in the immediate area. It may help cover your approach as you move through the trapped hall."
"I also have this," he says, handing you a dreamcatcher made of hide and bone. "The gith see well in the dark, but they still require some illumination. They light their lair with torches - as many as a dozen in the columned hall. Blow a steady breath through this and it will grow to a great gust of wind that should extinguish the torches, allowing you to advance along the north wall in darkness."
"Now, is there any other help I can give, or questions I can answer before you go?"
"What about women and young if they don't fight?" the kreen asks audibly, mostly to the group.
"Some of us do not see well in the dark. If we are to act in darkness, how are we to see to make sure we do not stumble into one another or..." {I'll show you the way!} Yeah right, show me the way right into a wall. {What you don't trust me? I'm hurt.} Fine... fine... Just don't screw this up. {Pfft.. Me? I'd worry about yourself first, if the past is any indication.} Gorkhan rubs the bridge of his nose. Shut up. "Never mind...," he finishes.
The druid considers. I could summon a swarm of spiders that would add to the distraction of the enemy. But once summoned the vermin would not be our friends either so placement would be critical.
Ready, except Grit will change out some spells to be able to summon the swarm and have more healing.
As the group heads out, Gorkhan concentrates to reactivate his Inertial Armor. When they get closer he will activate of Chameleon. When they get past the traps, and closer to the gith, he'll activate Prevenom Weapon on his sword.