As Raun releases her fury, Daina clutches the tigone close to her.
Grit moves to Nnn. << My friend, you have healed my wounds for much of my life. You have always been there for the clutch. I now have the chance repay some of your kindness.>> And with that Grit calls on his command of nature to restore some of the life force taken from Nnn.
The group gathers in the center of the large chamber as Grit casts his healing spells.
As the light plays around you, you see that the stone tiles at your feet are cracked and stained a deep rust color, as if pulverized and painted by repeated bloody impacts. Above, you can see a faint halo of light - this must be the carrion pit the baker mentioned, where the deadhearts of the arena toss corpses too damaged to be reanimated.
After Raun's ministrations, the belgoi could pass for refuse dropped from above. Anything of value they carried has been pulverized under the half-giant's hammer.
Taking stock, you see that the alliance charm points almost directly north.
Raun, please loot first, and pulverize last next time. Grit scolds.
"Or maybe not at all..." Daina adds quietly.
Raun spares Grit a glare, her lips quivering, seeming on the edge of peeling back from her teeth but she masters herself after a few moments and turns to trying to wipe some of the gore off her hammer, a rather futile task given the state of the belgoi's remaining rags.
<<Thanks to you, Grit. The ambusher almost knocked me out.>>
Nnn'tkklik'l appears contemplative for a moment, and then sees Daina's obvious fatigue. Feeling empathy for the softskin, he draws her fatigue into himself.
Grit holds up the token. We must go North from here. Have we searched the room to our satisfaction? He will cast Detect Magic and scan the room a final time before heading back out the way he came in and moving North.
Raun looks at Grit as he asks if the room has been searched properly, wondering if she'd missed that while she was smashing the matriach into paste. She shrugs, casting her gaze around for anything that looks suspicious, and heads over to poke at the altar.
Your search turns up nothing of value. You assume any corpses from above are stripped before being tossed down here; scraps of cloth appear to have been gathered up to serve as bedding in the room west, while any bones not shattered in the fall were used to expand the platform and altar.
You move east into another ring of tunnels surrounding the belgois' chamber. In a curving passage beyond, newer construction holds heavier stone sarcophogi, in a different style than the burial niches you've seen before. Like the dust-filled nooks, all have been plundered, empty for at least a King's Age.
Following the finger-bone talisman, you find a cramped, half-collapsed corridor, it's walls narrowing to a point that forces even Grit to crouch. As you move carefully along the uneven floor, your light illuminates a heavy stone door, bound in blackened iron, at the west end of the passage. Glowing runes flare to life as you approach. You stop, hesitant to even breath.
The runes are some kind of magical ward, but you're not sure what exactly.
The runes are a symbol of death, likely set to target anyone who approaches too closely or tries to pass through the door.
The runes are a symbol of death, likely set to target anyone who approaches too closely or tries to pass through the door. Studying the aura more closely, it appears the wards could be bypassed with the proper talisman ... such as the amulet of one of Kalak's senior templars.
Daina looks at the glowing rune flare with curiosity, then her face pales. "Get back. Now. That's a symbol of death."
Grit too studies the glyph for a moment but recognizes nothing about it.
A symbol of death? How might we bypass such a thing?
Daina opens and closes her mouth twice, studying the symbol. For once she takes the front, pushing the others behind her. "There is normally a specific way to disarm these kinds of symbols, otherwise whoever set them can't get past it themselves. A password perhaps? Being the right person? An item? Putting your hand on the proper part of the wall? The other way is to try and dispel it, but beyond not preparing that magic this spell is well beyond my capability to cast, so whoever placed it is probably beyond my capability to compete with magically. Unless we can learn more I suggest we avoid it."
Raun's breath seems to be growing heavier as the walls start to close in, and when the others stop she pushes at them in annoyance, but ceases when Daina speaks up.
"Big wizard left big magic to protect fake body..." Raun murmurs.
Gorkhan ponders the situation. "Such a trap would barely be within by abilities to reach. I would need to be exceedingly lucky to circumvent it, I expect. I don't suppose someone has an ability to maximize another's skillset? Otherwise we'll need whatever the key is to bypass it."
Opting to leave the warded door alone for now, you back out of the narrow tunnel and return to the chamber of the belgoi. Moving south, you explore the ring of catacombs and quickly locate a tunnel heading south, as the baker described.
Past a heavy door, the catacombs give way to a broader tunnel lined with close-set stone. The channel is filled with a thin layer of glowing green moss or slime, fed by the steady dripping of water from cracks in the stone above. One of the city's aqueduct's must run on the other side of the ceiling - you have heard tales that the ancient's had so much water, they used it to flush waste through secondary channels like this, called sewers.
The glowing growth has a dangerous look to it, at times appearing to move. You cross a stone platform bridging the channel before coming to a blank wall of crumbling brick. Following the baker's instruction, you find the hidden latch that causes the wall to grind slowly out of the way, revealing a storeroom filled with barrels of moldering grain and coarse salt.
Around a corner, a narrow stairway leads up toward the arena. Moving as quietly as possible, you climb several flights before emerging into another cramped storeroom stacked with barrels and bolts of cheap canvas. In the southeast corner, a stout cage of wood and bone is half-covered by a tarp. On top of the cage, a leather sack lies half open, its contents - which seem to include a shrunken head and various bits of bone and braided hair - spilling out. A short bone spear and several small blades have been tossed in the corner to the north.
As you enter, something in the cage moves. At first, the mass of hair or fur appears to be a beast of some kind. Then you notice the arms and legs, tied painfully behind the thing's back. Your first thought is that it is some particularly hairy child. Then you notice the glittering eyes and sharpened teeth gnashing at the bone lashed into place as a gag.
Halfling. And an angry one, at that.
Woki struggles in the cage, eyes wild and filled with a raging storm of anger while sharpened teeth gnash upon the bone gag. The bonds around the halfling's hands and feet dig painfully into joints with each wiggling thump of flesh against the wood and bone bars.
Nothing has gone as planned since I arrived in this accursed city.
First the tall ones in black had came, grabbing Woki with their hard grips and heavy fists. The beating they called interrogation had only made the halfling angrier with each blow and delivered answers in the form of a multitude of curses in the jungle dweller's native tongue.
Then they had thrown Woki into this small cage, forgotten in some dark crevasse of one of their dead towering structures while waiting for some half-promised comeuppance to be delivered to the halfling. The breath of the wind could not be felt in this basement, better called a tomb, and Woki was on the cusp of going mad from being confined.
Now more tall ones come to torment me! Maybe one will remove my gag long enough so I might bite a finger from their hand. Mmmh, when was the last time I ate? I don't remember, it has been so long...
Daina looks at the savage halfling, shying away in disgust. She looks around the room for anything else of interest with a detect magic.
Several of the items on top of the cage glow in the light of Daina's spell, including the spear, and the shrunken head.
Grit too sees the creature and in a moment recognizes it for what it is. {its an easy knowledge nature roll after all)
Moving closer to the cage he looks more closely at the halfling then says quietly My name is Grit. We are enemies of the ones who live here. We could kill you and take these items, but we would rather free you, if you will help us? Do you understand me? Do you wish to get back at your captors?
Raun squints down at the creature, trying to make out the halfling's features. "Did Zok get all hairy?" she asks, scratching her head as she recalls their earlier travelling companion who had gone missing before reaching Tyr. She gives the cage an experimental shake, looking to the others for guidance.
Wait... is this some trick of the ones in black? Or is this a cryptic sign from the spirits?
Woki ceases struggling as the halfling stares at Grit deep in the eyes. Now motionless, suddenly, Woki's head jerks up in down in agreement which turn into muffled exclaimations as the towering half-giant starts rattling the cage, "Mmmmrrrrph! Mmmrph mrph mmmmmrrrrpph!"
Nnn'tkklik'l stays back, wary of the little one. He remains prepared to assist his allies should it attack them, but makes no motion towards violence himself.
The Zok-thing seemed to be agreeing with Grit, so unless one of the others directs her to stop, Raun sets about figuring how to open or if necessary break the cage.
"Are you releasing that little monster? We have enough problems."
The cage door is secured by a series of intricate giant-hair knots - if not released in the proper order, the rope will become hopelessly snarled.
Raun takes one look and decides to create her own door, snapping a few of the bone staves making up the cage. The bound halfling rolls out, waiting impatiently for Raun to draw a blade across its bonds.
As the halfling rubs the circulation back into its wrists and collects its belongings, a shadow flickers beneath the door to the east. Despite the late hour, at least someone is moving through the halls beneath the arena floor.
Daina steps back from the little creature. "He better be on our side."
He is. Grit says as he helps to remove the gag/bone and hands the little man his gear. He has given his word. You have my name friend. I'll have yours.
Finally no longer in a completely compromised position, Woki studies the 'saviors' for a moment before answering. The diminutive halfling's gaze flicks back to the large mul as the purloined possessions are returned, "Tall ones call this one Woki. Not hunt beside black ones?" The halfling seems to direct the question at the whole group before narrowing eyes at the half-elf. Woki walks closer to Däina, holding aloft the shrunken head of what appears to be another halfling, "Not monster! This monster. Kill fellow tribe like tall ones do. Big anger from spirits."
Once finished with the admonishment of the half-elf, Woki secures the head by it's hair to a belt around the halfling's waist and slips a long strap connected to a small satchel (which looks like some dried out organ) over one shoulder. Woki points toward the door with it's moving shadows and points with a spear, "Tall ones through door keep this one locked away from spirits. Cruel tall ones not let Woki smell breath of sky or feel tears on face. Hunt now?"
Grit looks to the others. If everyone is ready he prepares to cast Shillelagh onto his club and asks Gorkhan to check the door.
Daina puts a hand over her mouth, turning away from the shrunken head. She gives Grit a are you kidding me? face.
"when hunt with us little one, I join your mind to ours ok?>>