Feora looks at the two of them arguing, and moves over to check Olivius's wounds, trying to check and bandage the worst of them while he is arguing with the imp.
"Well, devil's are lawful in nature Haratio, demons are the chaotic ones. Though I'm not really sure which one he is?"
Other than her commentary, Trig is content to let Olivius do the interrogation. It was after all his spear which brought the imp low, and his spear that holds it in check. It seems none of the rest of the group could muster enough force to penetrate its natural damage resistance.
"I don't know much of devils. From what I've heard, though, you can make a deal with one, and they'll uphold it to the letter - and make you wish they hadn't." Horatio's tone is grim. "The rooftops of Korvosa were riddled with these little bastards. My stance on this matter should be clear... which is why I'm going to let you handle it." He claps Olivius on the shoulder and steps back, arms crossed across his chest, eyes fixed firmly on the fiend.
"Can...can I just go? I promise I will cause you no harm, just remember: 'Good Baron Sarvo wills it.' That will help you deeper inside..."
Details, Devil, or I skewer you here and now. You didn't even answer my questions. What do you think I am? An empty-headed Demon?
"I'm not entirely sure what the code means, I just know it's important further into the chamber. This place used to be a prison. I had fun here then, but got stuck in here and couldn't quite get out. So I stuck around and waited. I figured at some point someone would get greedy and come searching...then I would be able to get out of this gods forsaken prison," a double entente for the last bit leaves it on Olivius. "And the door is easy to open, you just have to know where to look for the clasp. I can open it for you, if you will just let me leave."
"Sounds good to me," Trig says, having wanted to leave the capricious creature in peace to begin with. Though if Olivius stabs it to death I wouldn't complain either, she thinks.
Fligg continues to snarl at the thing, while nursing his wounds. The eagle flaps over to perch on the nearest suitable place, and watch the imp.
Feora after seeing to Olivius's wounds would come over and inspect and start to work on Fligg's cuts and wounds. She is listening to the conversation, but not quite sure how she can add anything. She does seem to eye the tiny creature with a marked amount of nervousness.
Horatio winks to Feora as Olivius continues to question the imp. "So, is this as exciting as you'd hoped?" he asks with a faint smile, keeping on eye on the fiendish exchange.
Feora blinks at Horatio a bit aghast. "Exciting? Why would you think this is exciting? It's TERRIFYING! That's what this all is. Why would you build a place like this? What is that little thing anyway, and why doesn't it look like a little bird now?"
Feora cradles her head, shivering a moment and tries to process everything going on, and just seems to be extremely overwhelmed at the moment.
Olivius thinks carefully before proceeding. Ok, devil, here's the deal. If you go free you must contract with us. Swear on your life that you will not directly, indirectly, or through any other possible or impossible means harm or hinder us in any way. In addition, you must agree that the very rumor of you being on this plane is grounds for your death at our hands. Do I make the letter and intent of this compact clear?
"Wait, wait, wait...If I can't stay on this plane, then what is the point of my helping you? If you continue to pound me, I just go home, but you want me to go there of my own accord? Then how am I to make deals with mortals? No no, we have to find something a little less stringent than that. How about...I leave this country? I'll leave Taldor and...let's see," The imp moves over to rummage through something, keeping very visible. "I'll give you this!" He pulls a bottle out of nowhere it would seem. "A potion for you to drink when you are hurt. It has my blood in it, so it might burn a bit, but you have my word it will cause no harm and it will heal you, though a bit slower than usual mortal magic. There are even two doses here!"
Feora gasps even louder in incredulity. "Making deals with a devil? What sort of person are you? Such foul creatures? And who in their right mind would take a devil's blood for healing when the light of Sarenrae banishes all ills?"
ChelaxiansOlivius answers Feora. His tone is laden with resignation, bitterness. It's almost like someone else is talking. Are you proud, father. lays heavily on his mind.
In another part of his mind, he regards the Imp coolly, working its proposal over for loopholes.
I am willing to allow leaving the country as long as my aforementioned limits on activity pertaining to my group remains and is expanded to include any groups with whom we have contact. In short, I want to forget you even exist and never be reminded otherwise. On pain of getting - sent home - in the least pleasant manner possible.
Feora looks at him very strangely. "What in all the Dawnflower's Bright Light is a Chelaxian?"
"A smart creature! You have an accord," the imp tosses the potion over to Olivius and then snaps his fingers and vanishes one more. "Thanks...see you again...NEVER!"
Olivius heaves a sigh of relief. That was interesting...
He finally turns his full attention to Feora. You've never heard of Cheliax? Empire of Devils? House Thrune?
As the imp vanishes, Horatio sighs, running his hands through his hair. He puts one hand on Feora's shoulder in what he hopes is a comforting and reassuring gesture. "Okay, one thing at a time. A Chelaxian is either someone from Cheliax - like Olives - or someone with ancestry there, like myself. Something can be exciting and terrifying at the same time. Like bare-knuckle boxing, or taking a stranger to bed for the first time. But it seems I'll have to tell you about sarcasm a bit later. As for the imp's blood, I too tend to prefer my healing purely on the side of rainbows and light. But it might not be a bad thing to have, just in case we exhaust any magic we ourselves have." He offers her a strained smile. "Does all of that make sense?"
Trig walks over and smacks Olivius on the ass. "Good work Olives. Maybe you're not as stupid as you look after all. Now, lets get that door open and continue on our ADVENTURE!" she exclaims, going to open the secret door.
Fligg walks over to Feora as well. "Having fun yet, sheltered girl?" He grins a smile nearly as wicked as the imp's. "I'm sure we're just getting started," he insists, before following Trig.
Half of Olivius's mouth grins at Trig's antics as he turns to follow, leaving fragile Fiora in Horatio's capable hands. He just hopes Horatio knows when to keep his trousers laced. He's rather not teach that lesson again. Castration was always awkward at best.
Noticing the look Olivius gives him, Horatio rolls his eyes. "Well, we'd best follow. Don't want to get left behind now, do we?"
Feora sighs, shaking her head in confusion and frustration before she gets up, gathering her things to follow the rest of the group in a very pensive silence.
Before the group leaves the room, their eyes return to the bronze plaque, now having time to read it.
Confession Cleanses the Soul- Pain Clarifies the Mind
The plaque looks to be heavy and unwieldy but Horatio recognizes that it is a family motto and crest and would likely be valuable to a historian in the area.
The group winds around the corridors and the floor drops away here as the corridor turns east, though a seven-inch·wide ledge continues along the south wall.
The walls are very smooth, offering few handholds. The remainder of the passageway is filled with a five-foot-deep trough filled with foul-smelling, thick green sludge.
"Wait a minute," the bard mutters, running a hand over the words carved on the bronze plaque. He attempts to lift it fom the wall and place it on the ground for later collection. "Could be worth a few crowns back in town. It's probably a crest of one of the older families." He takes a moment to search his memory for any mention of the words.
Upon reaching the next room, he sighs and rolls his eyes. "Of course. Can't let it get too easy now, can we?" he mutters, crouching to examine the green sludge more closely. "Now, what do you suppose this is?"
Feora backs up at seeing it. "Uhm..., that doesn't look good..., not at all. Uhm..., how are we going to get around this? Why is this even here?"
Olivius studies the goo as well. Fiora's vocal questions mirror his own. The further we explore, the wierder this gets.
There is a very tiny ledge that looks like it might be able to be balanced upon, but the sludge looks like acid...that has lost most, if not all of it's potency.
“It’s definitely something horrible. Don’t fall in!” Trig replies to Horatio.
"I'm more worried about Olives pushing me in," Horatio teases Trig, with a wink to the warrior. "Your boyfriend seems to be the most nimble among us. Perhaps he'd be able to balance along that ledge?" He points out the ledge in question, straightening and taking a step back from the sludge. "His eyes are pretty sharp, too, so he'd be able to tell us what's around there."
"Yeah, yeah, send the wounded fairy first. He's expendable after all," Fligg fake-whines. He moves to the front of the group and walks across the narrow ledge as easily as if it were a broad avenue .
Fligg seems to be handling things quite well, easily making it along the edges around the slime, traversing with little issues, though there was one point that was a bit more difficult than the others.
Once around the corner, the sludge eventually clears out and it is a cleared hallway leading up to a door.
"He sees a door around the corner, at the end of a clear hallway. We should try to cross. Good luck, everyone!" Trig says, trying to make her own way across.
It's very tough, but once Trig turns the corner, she realizes that it would take a much more bit of skill to move forward at all, with the edge getting much smaller... At this point, there seems to be about 25' to the edge of the slime from the point that the ledge becomes so difficult.
Olivius knows he has little to no chance of making it across a ledge so narrow, but he stows his weapon and shield and goes for it anyway.
Olivius attempts to traverse the ledge by falls into the sludge. The fall doesn't do any damage to him, but the sludge seems to burn his flesh.
Taking a deep breath to steel himself, Horatio attempts to follow Trig along the ledge. "Cayden's mug, I wish I had Flynn's balance," he mutters, finding the ledge considerably narrower than he'd prefer. Seeing Olivius fall in the sludge, he winces. "Well, at least the stench will cover your natural musk," he laughs, in a feeble attempt at lightening the situation.
Feora steels herself, but still looks very timid as she tries to inch her way along the ledge trying not to fall in. She tries to keep herself going, not wanting to slip and hurt herself, but knowing that she is not all that graceful. "So somebody tell me..., why did we come in here again?"
"Well, Olives and I have a history of doing stupid things. I like to think you came along to patch us up when that inevitably happened."
Feora manages to get to the corner just as Trig tries to balance herself along the smaller portion...only to fall in. Feora sees this, and then fails the same way...as does Horatio
Trig tries to climb out on the other side.
Olivius curses loudly and doesnt stop cursinng as he sprints as fast as he can theough the stinging sludge.
Asmodeus's hairy balls! That stings! Holy cow crap! Etc...
He snatches up Fiora out of the sludge on his way by and climbs out as soon as he can
As soon as he is out he shouts Prestifigitation! and slopily performs the appropriate hand gestures. The acid is immidiately removed from his person by the magic.
Trig feels the sludge burn as she moves out of the sludge, finding that it isn't an issue to climb out, as the ground slants up.
Olivius has a bit harder time of it, since he has much further to trudge, taking the equivalent of three rounds to get through the sludge, burning the entire time
“Ouch. That’s not pleasant.”
Feora climbs out of the sludge, whimpering as she does so. Noticably, her bandages around her arms have mostly eaten away, revealing her arms, which look to be severely burned, to the point of being black all the way from her fingers to her shoulders. She sits at the edge of the sludge trying to clean it off, and does her best to try and get herself mobile again.
I almost prefer Silas to this...almost. Olivius mutters as the group reassembles at the far side of the burning goop.
Feora looks over at olivius, after seeing him clean up, she starts to notice his wounds are getting a bit more concerning. She moves up over to him, her blackened arms reaching over to his midsection. "Hold still a moment." She closes her eyes, warmth starting to surround her hands and then Feora opens her eyes, but for the moment they glow pure white, no iris or pupil.
Flos est Aurora saevi malis carnis filii tui et restituet imperium.