Eldred claps the gnome on the shoulder. "Good thinking, Zeltresh. Keep checking here, let me see if there's a foreman's area, maybe they have the maintenance plans for this place."
(I'll take 20 if time allows)
Adurus, nodding and saluting at the Bailiff's dismissal, rejoins his group and stays in the far back of the party.
You would have to take a peak inside the boiler to see if it yields clear passage to the pipe proper. That I'm pointing this out instead of posting about what you see inside clearly has no bearing on anything. *whistles*
By nature of their very design, the access panels that allow passage into the main pipeline do not appear as such to Zeltresh initially. His expectation of a latch and hinge of some sort is not realized, and he instead wonders if the disc-like protrusions are some sort of pressure release for steam build up. It is Arzazel that gleans the true nature of these portals. The panels are secured in place by enormous rivets, likely to ensure that they do not become compromised or forced open while the boiler is in operation. Opening the things by hand would be a miraculous feat of strength even for a giant, so prying the things off outright seems unlikely.
Meanwhile, Eldred finds his way to the foreman's office, a small and square metal protrusion off of the wall farthest from the boiler arrived at by way of a thin climb of narrow, metal steps. The office has a window that affords full view of the boiler's housing. Much as he surmises, there are various notes and diagrams representing the architectural marvel before them. At various, regular intervals along the entire length of the steam pipe, there are access panels for maintenance crew access. Unfortunately, it looks as if they rely on halflings and gnomes to service their equipment when upkeep and fine tuning is called for. The ports are not so large that a grown human couldn't fit through, but it would require some squeezing and acrobatics to accomplish. Lastly, and most importantly, several of the tools required to access these panels hang neatly from a rack on the wall beside the door into the foreman's office. Immense, slightly curved metal bars with wrench-like components at their heads, each weighs about twenty pounds and is roughly the length of a halberd.
Sampson opens the door to the boiler and peeks inside. If it's large enough he will crawl in and see if there is enough of an opening to get into the pipes.
"We ain't getting those ports open. Hope the corporal finds something in the office, Sampson in the boiler." He heads to meet both of them.
"Ah, that's more like it." the gunslinger says to himself, surveying the tools available. He slings his spear and grabs the most useful set of plans and hefts two of the long metal, wrench-like bars, one on each shoulder, then he heads out of the office and finds the group. "Job opportunity, fellas. There's the plans for the thing, maybe an egress point over yonder, plus some handy tools so we don't have to knock."
Eldred lays the tools against the wall with a heavy thump of iron and stretches his shoulders.
Arzazel collects some of the tools that Eldred found, then provides the muscle to a tool where they identify. He takes direction well.
A bit overwhelmed by the confined and almost alien place, Adurus takes a moment to gain his bearings. He watches the others as they get to work in quickly figuring the situation out.
As Sampson steps around a snakework of pipes and wiring to orient himself at the head of the steamboiler, he easily finds the thick boiler door. A pair of well used, but well maintained shovels lie discarded in haphazard fashion on the ground in front of the boiler; one of the pair of tools bears a questionable bend along the left edge of the metal spade with blood evident upon its surface. The door into the boiler itself is of expert design—thick with several latches and heavy hinges that would make opening the thing an epic undertaking in and of itself. Fortunately for the laborers, there is a smaller portal into the boiler's interior fashioned into the door itself; a thickly-windowed and hinged rectangular plate that looks easy enough to open and sized appropriately for easily shoveling mounds of fuel or kindling into it. The smaller portal remains firmly shut and locked up while the larger one is slightly ajar.
After a bit of labored heft, even for the large Hermean duelist, he is able to swing the larger boiler-door wide. An unpleasant odor gusts out from the interior of the dormant cavity; a smell that, if Sampson does not miss his mark, is tinged with that of burnt flesh—a common enough thing for one who has served on the front lines of Molthune's war machine. The cause is known soon enough—a pair of blackened skeletons lie in a tangle at the bottom of the boiler in a mound of cold charcoal. What scraps of clothing remain is barely enough to identify the two corpses as human laborers. They were likely on duty when the troubles of this night began. One of the skeletons is doubled over in a mostly fetal position, though thanks to Sampson's keen eye and the barely-obstacle presented by the victim's ribcage he is able to see that it clutches something against its chest. It looks little more than frayed rag and stitching in the skeleton's hands from his vantage point, though a closer look could afford a more definite answer.
Beyond the scorched bodies in the tank, Sampson notes that there is indeed a means of egress through the main pipework from within. It is secured by a thick grate, blackened thoroughly from soot and smoke. Though no doubt typically locked and shut firmly, it looks as though something physically bent their way through it. Squeezing through this opening, while filthy, would not be overly time consuming. The integrity of the grate itself seems severely compromised as well, and battering the thing down completely is an alternate option.
Just as Sampson finishes his survey of the boiler's interior, an echoing and resounding rumble of clang and metal begins reverberating through the pipe's depths. Fortunately, the source is soon found to belong to Arzazel's own efforts in opening one of the myriad access hatches. The task requires several heaves, and the screech of the metal bolts grinding against their housing is an unsettling and immensely loud. After a few moments work, however, the rivets are free from fittings and the latch is removed.
Arzazel drops the last nut and wrench on the ground with a clang. He then slowly levers off the hatch from the exposed nuts. With strength and concentration he slowly sets the thick metal hatch on the wrench, so it doesn't lay fully flat on the ground squishing his fingers. He sniffs and listens at the opening. When he is certain nothing dangerous lurks immediately inside, he cautiously eases his head inside to continue to listen and look.
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"Two corpses in here, and a way into the pipes," Sampson calls out to the others as he bends to retrieve whatever object the worker's skeleton has clutched to its chest. After retrieving the dead man's treasure, he sets to work tearing the sooty grate free from their path of entrance.
Eldred winces at the wailing of the metal as Arzazel sets to the task of opening the hatch. Should have got some oil or something. Now half the addle brained idiots on the other end of this thing are gonna know we're comin'.
You never were the brightest torch in the camp, Dread. Frig pipes up with a laugh.
"Yeah, that's the understatement of the year..." the gunslinger mutters to himself.
Hearing Sampson's announcement, he let's out a sigh, looking to Arzazel with a bit of an apology for all the work he put into pulling the hatchway. "That's good news, eh? If he can call it an entrance, it'll be big enough for the rest of us."
As they reach the opening Sampson had found, Eldred eyes to two bodies and the grating that had been bent. "Wonder if this is how the bad guys got into the place too."
Sampson grunts as he tosses the grating to the floor with a loud clanging thud. He grunts again to Eldred, before clambering into the pipe.
"Meaning they may have left some traps in their wake, Sarge." Eldred indicates to the Hermean. "Mind yer steps."
Vincent looks to Adurus and nods, "Looks like break time is over." He then moves to the largest of the pipelines available and waits for the scouting party to get a sufficient lead before following himself.
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Having been waiting patiently letting the eyes and ears of the group examine the metal boiler with clunks, clanks, and the hair-raising scraping of metal, Rutilus stands about looking for orders, since apparently his advice doesn't seem very much wanted at this point in time. Instead, the tiefling stands behind them, at the entrance to the boiler, hands clasped behind his back, looking rather bored.
"Well then, gentlemen, shall we continue? I cannot say I'm much of an expert on the engineering behind these contraptions. As Ser Knight had stated, 'Eldred' and 'Arzazel' should be on point, no? It appears our friend the half-giant seems to be the one scouting the most right now." He seems almost condescending at the apparent disorder of the group's examination of the boiler, but nevertheless attempts to follow orders, waiting for Eldred an Arzazel to lead on.
Watch yourself, devil-humper. I ain't above sendin' ya downrange if for anything just to use yer sorry devil-humpin' hoop as a meat-shield. The gunslinger returns the Tiefling's sarcastic tone with a grin at the thought. But he keeps it to himself.
Eldred hefts his boat spear and nods to Arzazel that he's ready to go.
"Devil-spawn, would you be so kind as to scout this pipe. I am loathe to go where I will be blind and only make noise," Sampson says to Rutilus, while still crouching just beyond the opening that was covered by the grate he ripped off.
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"The proper term would be 'Tiefling', but Devil-spawn will suffice I suppose. Anyhow, I will send Baazul in first - he is better able to avoid detection than myself, and he can communicate to me somewhat through our empathic link. If he finds anything interesting, I'll know it."
With that, Baazul the centipede, who had been poking its hideous head out of Rutilus's collar, disappears a moment and reappears out from underneath the tiefling's robe, crawling silently into the opening that Sampson made. As it passes by the large warrior, it looks up at him curiously, cocking its head for a second, before continuing.
"He shouldn't take but a few moments."
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The pipe's innards have little to offer Arzazel that he would not already expect: thick coats of soot, almost tar-like in some patches from the frequent presence of steam that vents through its length. While Eldred's notion is sound, and likely, Arzazel sees no footprints or signs of passage that would indicate anyone having been inside of the steam pipe between now and its last point of operation.
Meanwhile, Sampson's investigation of the interior of the boiler itself yields similar results, though his human eyes have trouble discerning details clearly trough the dim and darkness that dominates their chosen egress into Rud's foundries. Fishing the object free from the clutches of the skeleton, Sampson is surprised by what he discovers. A small chunk of obsidian masterfully worked into the shape of a human skull, a thin strand of silver chains are worked through both eye sockets. This same chain wraps around behind the skull, where it looks like it was once anchored to a necklace or band of some sort, though the fires have long disintegrated whatever it was affixed to. While far from initiated in matters of religion, Sampson easily recognizes the holy symbol of Zon-Kuthon he grasps in his hands.
Bazuul, ahead of where Sampson's investigation continues, skitters silently and unseen down the pipeline, alert for any sign of danger or interest to be discovered on its brave jaunt ahead.
The hairs on the back of Sampson's neck stand up. Surprisingly, he notices the distortion of shadows that suddenly spring from the corpse that clutched said holy symbol to hover ominously inside the steam boiler. Its attention rests firmly on the duelist and no other.
A ethereal hiss of a whisper rebounds through Sampson's mind. "Puuuu...nniiiishhh... betraaaaayyyyeeed. Veeengeeaaannnnceee...weee seeeeeeeeek." It makes no hostile movements at present, remaining stationary and staring directly at the Hermean who holds the Kuthite symbol.
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Further along the pipe, Arzazel's ears perk up. At first he thinks it merely the scorpion, but the strength of the sound could not belong to something so unsubstantial. Simultaneously, Rutilus' empathic link with his scorpion begins to tinge with eagerness that is soon drowned out by fear. In short order the advance of the scorpion back towards the group becomes evident to Arzazel, and a scratching, clattering of multiple limbs begins to reverberate down the pipe behind its retreat. Something is coming. By the sound of it, a lot of somethings.
"You have my attention spirit. Explain yourself," Sampson commands the apparition, proffering the holy symbol as if it were a ward. His other hand slips down to the hilt of the smaller falcata at his waist.
Arzazel removes his head from the opening and backs up quite a bit. "Sounds like a lot crawly things are heading this way. Where's Zeltresh? We probably need lots of fire."
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At the same time his familiar detects something, Rutilus himself perks up, feeling both the excitement and fear rolling off of his link with his familiar. Upon hearing Arzazel's warning, Rutilus nods in agreement. "Baazul has found something - he's returning, but something is behind him. I don't believe its spotted him, whatever it is. Be on your guard!" With part of the group ahead of him and the remainder behind him outside of the boiler, he is able to better communicate to the two separated groups, and warns those outside of what those inside have heard.
As he speaks, his tail moves on its own - Rutilus wraps his tail around him and grabs onto one of his flasks he carries on a bandolier, using the tail to fetch it quickly for himself. The flask he grabs is filled with a rolling green liquid. Acid.
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Adurus perks up when Rutilus declares that some unknown entity is approaching. He draws his mace and shield, knowing that his sling will not serve much purpose in tight quarters, and stays alert for whatever is coming.
Realizing the close quarters of the pipe my not be the best situation for his gun, what with ole Lia's shout liable to deafen all concerned, Eldred steps next to Zeltresh and sets his spear for charge. If whatever is coming turns out to be small, he'll reverse his grip on the spear and be ready to stab downwards.
Hearing the commotion, Vincent picks up the pace to get to the entrance of the pipe.