Ford leans back as the door practically shatters off the hinges, before peering inside and blinking around a little, cautiously. His eyes almost immediately snap to the woman in white. She was... striking. Beautiful, but in the way that should probably be admired from afar. She didn't seem hostile... but clearly, one couldn't trust their eyes out here. And he didn't even want to look at the chair, or it's resident. That was just... creepy.
"Ah! My... my sincerest apologies." Ford said, bowing politely, though not taking his eyes off of the woman. "Uh... my name is Ford. Ford Benett. My companions and I are looking for ingredients to a plague cure. The herbalist in Falcon's Hollow said the wi-" Ford caught himself. Perhaps best not to refer to her like that.
"Erm... Ms. Ulizima might possess something called a... rat's tail, I believe? If she did, we hoped she might be willing to part with it." Ford waited quietly for the woman. He had entirely too many questions about her, but... they were popping in unannounced. Best to be on his best behavior...
She looks at you as if you were a small bug. As if it would be below her to waste the time swashing you.
"I am Albinka of Irrisen. I care little for the weak people of these southern lands."
She waves to the shelves and jars all around the room. "If she had it, and it has not rotted like that door, than it would be here somewhere."
The woman studies Zova and Ford before making a cold smile. "But as you have shown your place by bagging for my aid, I could use my power to aid you with one thing."
She points a finger at the iron cauldron. The cauldron sharers and a fine dust fall to the ground.
"That was left by my niece to guard her hut from thieves like your self. If you do meet her, tell her to return home."
Not waiting for an reply, she waves a hand and the shadows around her swallow her up. She no longer can be seen in the room.
Ford's eyes snapped to the destroyed cauldron, before looking back up to see the woman simply vanish from sight. He couldn't tell what sort of magic she was using... but it was definitely advanced. Something he couldn't even hope to pull off with his skill, that much he knew.
Ford exhaled as he looked back at Zova. "We got extremely lucky... whoever she was, she was incredibly powerful. I don't much care for her attitude... but with magic like that, perhaps she's got plenty of reason to be that way."
Ford holstered his mace as he looked at the pile of dust that was once a cauldron. "Let's hope we don't have to deal with her in the future... alright. Let's hope our luck continues, and there is a rat's tail somewhere on these shelves." Ford started to search through the jars and objects, keeping an eye out for anything that seems of use... and of potential value.
..and also staying a good distance from that freaky chair and body.
Hound stutters to a small degree at seeing someone who radiates that much power standing before him. "La...Lad....La" Hound takes a moment to clear his thoughts and inhales a deep breath. But by that point she had not only destroyed something in the hut but apparently with darkness wisked herself away from this place.
Taking the moment to think on what she had done he tries to place the spells cast by her to place her skills.
"Oh shit, um my friends I believe that first spell was a disintegrate." Hound get a worried look over his face. Peering around to see if she's still within range. Hound closes with the group before continuing. "Its a highly destructive spell that, well can reduce anything to ash or dust....what is the remain I'm kinda curious?"
His fear temporally misplaced he goes into the hut to check out the remains of the destroyed item. Once there inside, "Now this is a place that can give a dog nightmares."
It takes Ford a while, but after about 10 minutes he finds a little jar marked rat’s tails. It is half fall (more than needed).
He also came across 30 gp of little statuettes and rare stones.
Zova raises an eyebrow when Ford's gaze lingers on anything other the rat's tails, wondering if he would steal in front of someone he knew to be a Hellknight and a city guard. She puts a single gold coin on the table and walks to the door giving a disapproving glare. "We have the tails. Let us leave now andcontinue our objective."
As the party travels, it land grows darker. Right before the path leading up to the monastery, Hound stops the party and points out a pit trap hiding along the path.
By the time the party reaches the monastery, the sun has all but disappeared from the sky.
Sitting squat at the foot of an imposing mountain, a ruined monastery comes into view between ancient gnarled trees. Made of simple stone blocks, worn smooth with the passage of time, the stout building is falling apart. Sections of the slanted shale roof have collapsed and portions of the outer wall have crumbled. Weeds and wild thorn plants run rampant across the field leading up to the place, leaving only the slightest indication of a path that ends at the ruined front doors. Beyond, an overgrown yard sits in shadow.
The way into the yard is guarded by two old stone statues. While one is little more than rubble, the other remains in tact but covered in vines. There looks to be some writing on the statue, but the vines are blocking it.
Statue is from the time of the last great dwarven kings, many centuries ago.
"I thought that spell looked familiar... we're lucky. Still... I would like to know why such a powerful mage, from Irrisen, no less, is seeking out Ulizima..." Ford replied, nodding to Hound.
Ford smiles as he finally locates the rat's tail, but surprisingly, a few other things stand out to him. Not only rare statuettes, but precious stones! Even a few he hadn't come across in the smith shop! The statues would be good for historical preservation, but those stones... he could think of a few creations that would benefit from those. Pocketing as many as he could into his pack, he turned to leave, but hesitated briefly at Zova's glare. ...is she mad or something? This is turning into a remarkably profitable venture. What's to be mad over? Spying the coin Zova left on the table, Ford looked at it, grimacing before shrugging. She must have some reason for it...
Shrugging, he followed after Alleran, watching carefully as the sun fell behind the mountains and trees. Lighting up a torch, Ford held it up to light the way for himself, looking around into the dark limbs. So far, nothing, aside from that pit trap from earlier. Wonder who left that around...
Finally, they reached the ruined monastery, and Ford stepped forward, glancing over the area as best as he could. "This is it, I believe. Much of the masonry is worn out, but... this is why dwarves do much of their work underground." Ford stepped over to the statue, studying it and pulling the vines back to try and decipher what was left of the text. "If the archives were correct, this should be an ooooooold site, even by dwarven standards. Likely centuries since anyone has made proper use of it..."
Actually, I might send a carrier raven back to Father Ambros and the others, and tell them I intend to restore this site. A dangerous trek, but... hrm... I wonder if any of the lumberjacks in town would take to masonry and blacksmithing... I'd love to give that thrice-cursed consortium a little... 'friendly competition.' A man should be proud of his work, not desperate for it!
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As the party sights the ruins of the dwarven monastery, Alleran blearily looks around in the failing light for any signs of danger.
He pulls the heavy leather glove from off the thick belt buckling his great coat and shrugs it onto his right arm. He whistles, raising his arm up awaiting the eagle's approach.
With a final check over the hut, and seeing Lady Zova's look. Hound refrains from taking anything other then a sampling of the dust from the cauldron's remains. With a final look at the creepy hut, Hound is glad to be away.
As time passes Hound is surprised when he stumbles across the pit trap. "Hey companions, look what I found." Picking up a large rock, Hound uses it to trigger the trap making it easier to spot as well as to plan a path around.
Soon as the sun is starting to set they reach their next destination. With an experienced eye Hound start to look at the ruins trying to place a few of the objects that spring out in his mind.
Stopping in front of the statue, Hound remembers what it depicts. "Hey isn't this from the time of the last great dwarven kings? That places it at least a few centuries old."
Zova takes a look at the ruins with an air of awe. "Reminds me of an old poem I once read," She mumbles, peeking back to make sure Diana was still follow. "I forgot most of it, but I do remember it was about an ancient Osirion King: 'Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!' / Nothing beside remains. Round the decay / Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare / The lone and level sands stretch far away."
She draws her bow and starts to look around. "Looks like I may want to put up a light spell, as should all of you." With that, Zova mumbles an incantation allowing a beacon of light to appear on her chest, illuminating the way for twenty feet in all directions and allowing for dim light for 20 feet beyond that.
After the vines are pulled away, there is an old dwarven inscription that reads “All praise, [this part is defaced].” The name has been chiseled away.
The statue was of Torag.
As he party looks over the statue, a loud howl is heard to the east. By the corner is two wolves barring down on the party.
Hound (26)
Zova (23)
Alleran (14)
Wolves (9)
Ford (8)
Ford squints a little more, before a smile breaks over his face as he kneels before the statue. "Torag. As I had prayed, he has not led me here in vain. Guide me, Forge Father."
However, as he prays, he is caught offguard by the sudden arrival of the wolves. ...you certainly do have faith in me, don't you, Torag? he mused in his mind, before holding out his mace and starting to carve into the object with his finger, leaving traces of light over the surface.
After a moment, the light shimmered brightly, spreading out to cover the weapon and envelope it. As it died out, the morningstar he once held was no more, instead replaced by one of impeccable craftsmanship.
Zova shakes her head and takes a few steps back, raising her bow with an arrow knocked. "I should have figured this wouldn't be that simple. Still, I am quite disappointed we are meeting opposition before stepping foot within the ruin." Calmly knocking an arrow she readies an action to wait until one of the beasts gets within 20 feet of her (as that is her light range) before firing an arrow.
These are normal wolves.
"Wolves? We fight some type of big lizard and now wolves want to bear down on us!" With a feral grin that comes close to matching the wolves. "Let see if my teeth are a match for yours?!" With a growl Hound charges the one hugging the corner of the monastery. Drawing his silvered blade as he goes he brings it around with an overhand chop onto the creature.
Hounds blade slices deeply into the creature and Hound wishes that an opening was there for him to get his teeth into the creature.
"I hate to jinx us but these wolves don't seem so tough." Hound keeps his eyes on the creatures should more be right behind them and out of sight.
Hound (26)
Zova (23)
Alleran (14)
Wolves (9)
Ford (8)
While Zova and Alleran ready for the wolves to charge in, Hound charges at one of the wolves.
Hounds blade slices deeply into the creature and Hound wishes that an opening was there for him to get his teeth into the creature.
The wolves flank Hound and bite at him.
If hit, Trip:
If hit, Trip:
Ford empowers his morning-star.
Zova keeps her mouth open as she watches Hound pounce towards the wolves. "Abadar help me," she groans whilst moving towards him. "You have to be more careful Hound! Let your enemy come to you and then strike."
Drawing a single arrow, Zova aims and fires at the nearest wolf, hoping that she manages to hit.
Likely hitting the beast, Zova gestures to her allies. "Come on now, you two are far better in melee than I."
Ford smiled as he turned back, holding up his newly refurbished mace and gripping it in both hands. "Of course, milady. But one does not go to war ill equipped."
Ford rushed forward to aid Hound in his attack against the wolves, swinging his weapon after a quick leap to his left. "Hang on, Hound!"
"Sorry My Lady but I'm not one to wait when the opportunity comes. I will try to do better in the future though." With that, Hound returns his attention to the wolves. With a horizontal slash, Hound brings his weapon around on the wolf that he's already wounded.
With a snarl, he see a small opening from the second wolf and brings his teeth to bare.
Hound's teeth return with blood covering them, he takes a quick second to spit out the flesh he's torn away with his bite.
"Oh gods, I really do hate doing that sometimes." With a glance to Ford Hound steps back forming a flanking position with the original wolf.
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Alleran stands down as the last of the wolves fall. He shakes his head at the impetuosity of his traveling companions. "Stay in formation and stop running off like fools! They're wolves. They prey on the outlier and flank their targets. You gave them everything they wanted by running out to meet them by yourself. I thought you told us you came from a family of hunters?"
Hound (26)
Zova (23)
Alleran (14)
Wolves (9)
Ford (8)
Hounds blade falls one wolf with his blade and bites into the other.
Zova's arrow flies into the last wolf's backside.
The last wolf howls and runs off into the woods.
Zova lowers her bow as the wolf runs off. "Well, now it knows not to attack humans again. Shall we go on?"
As she is about to walk off, she notes Hound's wonds. "But first, I think you may need some healing.
"I will deal with this with the potion at this time," Hound draws forth the potion. "It leaves my remaining spells in case of battle." With a swig he downs the potion.
"Ahh that feels better," With that he tosses the vial away. Turning to Alleran "I believe you commented on my being a hunter? With regards I said I was part of a werekin hunting family. The hunting involved didn't always use the same tactics you would use in hunting beasts. " With a slight bow
"I was in the distraction part, having to charge a creature to draw it attention. I can see that tactic wont work here as often and try to accommodate for that." With that he motions to Ford to lead on.
Tall grasses and chunks of stone debris have all but overtaken this small yard. Of to one side, a wooden stable has collapsed into a mound of rotting timbers and moldy straw. Some bones stick out of the stable. A well sits to the northwest with a dead body next to it. The outer wall on the east side has also collapsed, leaving a ragged hole. Three doors exit into this yard— a pair of double doors to the east, a single door to the north, and a lone door leading into the squat tower in the southeast corner.
You don't find any traps.
Ford sighs a breath of relief as the other wolf runs away. Holding up his torch, he lights the way into the courtyard. "Dwarves typically keep forges on the lower levels, but the ironbloom itself congregates in many places around them. If we're lucky, we shouldn't have to venture too far in to find some caps."
Ford pointed at the double doors to the east and nodded. "Those should be the main entry. If my notes from the archives are right, beyond should be sacred ground, possibly an altar, and roughly below that should be the forges." Ford's eyes drifted to the dead body by the well, stepping over to observe it. "It seems we aren't the first to tread these grounds..."
The body was devoured by a rather large animal. It has been here for about a year.
While looking at the body Ford finds a rotting backpack at the base of the well.
a week’s worth of trail rations,
a set of thieves tools,
50 feet of silk rope,
a small coin purse with 42 gp in assorted coins,
and a small blue vial containing a potion of cure light wounds (marked).
"Hard to say what did this poor fellow in... but it must have caught him offguard. His stuff seems relatively untouched. Wonder what got to him... or her." Ford observed with a squint at the corpse, looking through the pack for anything to identify the body or that may be of value to them.
"I suggest we head into the main entrance." Ford replied, pointing to the large double doors. "Dwarven layouts change little over time. If we're lucky, the shortest route to the forges, and the ironblooms, will be through there." Ford placed the stuff he found in his pack, before hoisting it onto his back and taking point again, holding his torch up to illuminate things as he tried to pull open one of the doors.
"Somebody with better eyes than mine, see if anything is amiss."
Beyond the double doors is a small dark hall. Littered with mounds of debris and a year’s worth of dead leaves, it is clear that a narrow path winds inside.
Just to the right (north) is a door that looks rotted into the opening.
To the left (south) is a 2nd door.
Two more double doors sit open leading into a large room with a large ceremonial anvil.
To the North the hallway turns to the east.
To the south is a open doorway across from a closed door.
There is some traffic coming in this way. Most of the traffic looks to head north.
Ford squinted as he shined his torch into the darkness, frowning at the ground as he observed the floor. "...strange ...there seems to be someone else here as well. Take care, and keep weapons at the ready. We might be intruding on something unhappy to see us."
Ford checks the door to the right first, giving it a push before trying to cautiously and quietly force the door open.
With a loud crack, the door gives way and opens, shattering an ancient wooden chair propped against it on the other side. The room beyond is dark and smells deeply of dust and decay.
A few chairs make it out as some type of waiting room. Likely used by monastery guests.
in the center of the chamber is a mummified body of a dwarf in the garb of a black smith. A shattered glass vial sits in one hand and a crap of old parchment in the other.
"Forgive me, dark father of the forge, my toils shall never be enough."
In the belt of the dwarf is a silver light hammer with a religious symbol carved into the head.
The symbol is the mark of Droskar, the dwarven god of toil and suffering.
After the battle, Hound keep quiet as traps and dwarven ruins are not in his set of skills. As Ford leads them deeper into the tunnels Hound regrets not having his own source of light, with luck the spirits of battle will grant him that talent in magic.
"So Ford after our first few steps, what can you tell us of this place?"
Hound fails to notice what Ford does in regard to tracks in the dust. With a lowered voice, "Anyone have any idea on what could be lurking down here?" Hound looses his sword in its sheath, while waiting for a response.
As Ford enters the now open room, "Poor fellow, hope he didn't do that to himself."
Ford looked about the room, before kneeling next to the dwarf's body and reading the note. He grows noticeably quiet at it, before quickly searching the rest of the body and finding the hammer. His eyes go wide as he holds it up, staring at the symbol.
"...by the forge... this is why- I was wondering why... this place had suddenly gone so silent. The archives just completely cut off about it." Ford held up the hammer for the others to see. "This mark... it's bad news. It's the mark of Droskar." Ford paused, before realizing he was the only one who knew what that meant.
"Er... right, perhaps I should elaborate. Droskar is- was- a former student of Torag himself, one of the best, really. A great smith... but it was never enough. He began stealing the works of other smiths, imprisoning the original creators, and presenting their works as his. Torag discovered this, naturally, and cursed Droskar so that he could never create another original work. His 'followers' are slaves to his will, and toil endlessly to provide flawless works for him. He's the god of toil and suffering for a reason."
Ford pointed at the paper, grimacing. "That paper means this dwarf was a faithful of Droskar. Which means this whole place was likely compromised. We're standing on desecrated ground." Ford knelt down and gave a quick prayer. "Torag guide me as I cleanse these tainted halls."
Listening to the history buried within this tomb, Zova nods at Ford's explanations of the religion of Droskar and the structure of the ruins. "This certainly does seem like it needs renovations..." Zova gets to thinking, smiling slightly at what her mind comes up with when she remembered Ford's comment about getting this place up and running again. "If this is indeed desecrated land, that such a foul god, I would certainly be happy to offer Abadar's blessing as well. After all, The Master of the First loathes cheats, forgery, and their ilk. I could certainly help you and the blacksmiths you hire with the business aspect of it so as to help the town's financial situation and their dependence on the Lumber Consortium."
At the mention of 'flawless' works, she twitches. "And I would most certainly say that this Droskar and his thralls are not able to create perfection. That duty belongs to Abadar alone and his master over the First Vault." Sensing slight confusion, she explains. "The First Vault is where Abadar stores perfect copies of every single thing to ever exist, from natural formations to man-made things, to even metaphysical concepts such as art, law, and philosophical ideas. Everything we mortals create are in reality, imperfect replicas of what one may find in said Vault."
Upon reaching the crossroads she frowns and looks over to the others. "Where do you suggest we go from here?"
Ford nods back to Zova. "You have my thanks. This will take a little bit of work, and an extra hand is always appreciated. I can decipher ancient dwarven texts, replicate long forgotten smithing arts... and yet I can't tell how much my works are worth. I make a poor dwarf, don't I?" He chuckled, shaking his head at the notion. "Still, I can make them, and with time, I can others to as well. Perhaps a little rivalry will prompt the consortium to improve it's conditions..."
Ford held up his torch, placing the silver hammer in his pack and making a mental note to reforge it later. Or hurl it at something dangerous. "I would suggest the left, or to the altar. Whatever came through here seems to be veering that way, and I'd rather avoid it, if possible. I would like to investigate the church... if my notes are correct, the forges should be roughly below it... which means there may be some ironblooms lurking around."
...then again, my notes are based on ancient documents. Very old, tattered documents. It could be wrong... no, the forges are typically the most sacred place in the monastery. It should be fine...
Some of the tracks are from kobolds.
There are wolves' tracks, but also Worg.
...wolves. But... no, something even bigger... a worg! Great. Just what we need right now. Let's... just stay positive. Ford thought to himself, before stepping forward and leaning into the altar room, waving the torch around to try and get a good look of the area.
Zova thinks for a moment to determine the different bits of information she may have concerning worgs.
Not able to think of anything she shakes her head and makes for the altar with her bow in hand and an arrow knocked, renewing her light spell before doing so that she isn't surprised if it goes out.
Looking in, Ford can see Pews of darkwood lie tipped over and covered in dust on either side of this ancient shrine. At the far end sits a large ceremonial anvil, but its surface is defaced and ruined.
The anvil is devoted to Torag.