Luc looks at the muscular adventurers and then at his meek arms and decides to look out for dangers, while the party pushes the door.
Luc may have small arms, but he carries a gun.
After Dreygard’s failed attempts at opening the door, Adolphus steps in. His heavy armor scrapes against the door, the sound raising the hairs on the back of your neck. He strains against the door, but it just will not open. ”Help me,” the warrior grunts, the veins on his neck visible from the exertion. Diurn, Dreygard, and Darthal also lean into the door and push, and for a second, it seems that Valamont’s right, that there is no door here. Then there’s a loud ”crack” as the locking mechanism snaps and the door rolls aside.
Empty weapon racks line the walls of the dust, 10-foot-high room that is revealed. In the middle of the floor rests a large wooden chest with a flat lid and iron hinges. Atop the chest sits a small silver cage holding a rat with a white star-shaped splotch of fur on its tiny forehead. It grips the bars and squeaks excitedly.
The door to the northeast is another of the gear doors. Inscribed in its center is yet another rune .
"This must be Starbrow... an apt name." Dorian warily looks at the chest, "We should be cautious before freeing him, though. There could be a trap here... I'll check to see if I can find any of a magical nature."
Dorian casts detect magic into the room, concentrating to try to identify any auras if he finds one.
Valamont gasps as the door opens and bewilderedly observes, "A door... disguised as a wall disguised as a door? Gnomes! So needlessly complex."
He then starts as he sees the caged rat, "Oh! Hello there, Starbrow. Your master is rather worried about you." He nods at Dorian's suggestion and lets the man work his magic before approaching Starbrow's cage.
"We came all this way and all we have to show for it..is a rat?!"
"Well... we were kind of looking for one."
"While you look for magic traps, I'll try and find the mundane." Dreygard checks out the chest and cage for traps.
"Don't touch the chest!" Darthal says in a how tense voice. "It's a mimic! It looks like a chest, but I've heard some old stories that it can't mimic wood grain right. It will bite anyone who gets close. Can we lift Starbrow's cage off the chest with a pole or a hook or something? I have rope, but not anything to pick the cage up with."
"And where there is one trap, there may be another. Even after we get the cage off, don't open it immediately." Darthal resolves to have his dog smell the rat before letting the probably-Starbrow out of the cage. Or perhaps leave the silver cage shut until it's delivered to the gnome upstairs...
Dreygard freezes at Darthal's words, and draws his pick.
Dorian: You detect no magical auras.
Dreygard: You look around the room from your frozen position, but don’t see any traps.
Darthal: There is no handle on the cage. Empty weapon racks line the walls – one of them could be broken and a leg from it could conceivably be used to hook the the cage, although you would have to get fairly close as the legs are no more than four feet long. You do not see any footprints on the floor.
Diurn waves a magic wand and Adolphus grows.
"Save Starbrow with your new reach big man."
"Why don't we just kill the mimic?"
"If we can do so without injury, let's do it."
Valamont's got a rank in Knowledge(dungeoneering) and at the mention of the mimic he'll try to recall anything he might have heard about them from his mother or uncle.
"Hold a moment, I'm sure I've heard of mimics before, though this is the first I've ever laid eyes on one. Give me a minute, I may be able to recall something useful."
He then whispers quietly to his sword, "Ok, sorry about that, what were you saying? Yes, yes, what about mimics?"
Valamont: Though none is currently in view, you know that mimics exude an incredibly sticky slime that will hold fast any weapon that strikes it. The slime also easily sticks to people, which can be very deadly for any creature the mimic touches. You also know a fight with the creature would most likely end in several deaths.
Valamont's eyes raise in alarm and he looks hastily from his sword to the mimic to Adolphus. "Say your hand, Adolphus! If I remember correctly, such creatures excrete an extremely adhesive slime. You'd lose your weapon at best and a limb at worst. I suspect Starbrow's cage may be affixed to the top of the creature - a clever trap." The half-elf shakes his head, "We need to find a different solution to freeing Starbrow. Violence would result in the familiar's certain death and likely some of ours."
"Adhesive? Retrieving the cage is probably beyond the capability of one of my simple spells, then. I wonder how it got there..." Dorian frowns in thought.
"Mimics are slow. What if we all shot at it from a distance?" Darthal asks.
"I wonder at Starbrow's odds of survival under such circumstances. If you had a brother and he were in the cage instead of the rat, would you suggest it?" Valamont's question is asked softly and without judgment or condecension - he's genuinely curious if Darthal and others think it a safe enough course of action to risk it.
"Maybe a couple of you guys distract using false attacks while I get the cage unlocked."
"A rat is pretty lightweight. If we broke the cage, could one of you wizard types just pick him up and float him over to us?" Darthal asks. "And, yes, if my brother were in the cage I would take the risk that my friends could hit something unmoving at a short distance. Did not Marak Mac Bell do the same before his rebellion?
"Oh yeah," Dreygard nods. "I heard it was so close that he DID have to trim some just to get the guts out of his braids."
He then shuffles flicks his wrist and a throwing knife appears in his hand as he shuffles to about ten feet from the chest. He then deftly snaps the knife at the mimic.
"Adolphus, now that you are big, get the rat."
Adolphus raises an eyebrow and looks over at Valamont.
"We sure that's a good idea?"
Valamont looks to Adolphus, "Sure? I'm afraid I'm far from it, but with the tools at our disposal our options are tragically limited. Sadly, I don't speak Rat either, so I can't ask Starbrow if he has a preference. I don't speak Mimic either, if the things even speak at all, so I see no way to negotiate."
He pauses a moment, his eyes sweeping over the room. "The only other thing I can think of to pluck Starbrow from the mimic's lip - or would it be its head? - anyway, if we had a long pole or similar length of wood or metal, one could stand here," Valamont points 10 feet to the right of the mimic, "and someone else of similar height could stand here," he points 10 feet to the left of the mimic. "Then, with the pole held above their heads, a third person could toss a rope with a hook of some sort over the pole and we could make like we're fishing for the Morkoth."
His brow furrows in frustration and he glares impotently at the mimic.
"With a pole or polearm, Adolphus can reach 20 feet."
Dreygard throws his knife at the mimic, but it bounces ineffectually off the creature's tough hide. The "chest" opens wide, revealing a set of sharp teeth as the creature speaks.
The mimic seems guarded, but not immediately hostile. As it speaks, the rat's cage moves up and down with the mouth, stuck to the top of the mimic.
Valamont stops and stares at the mimic for a moment, then looks blankly at his companions, "Did- did it just actually talk? It did didn't it?"
Darthal stares carefully at the large collection of teeth, and then at the unharmed Starbrow. Carefully he pulls a small piece of dried jerky from his pack, and then tosses it towards the creature, aiming for the mouth.
"I... think it's trying to talk, though I can't make out the words. Guys, it could have just killed the rat, or attacked us. I... don't think it wants to fight." In an equally low, tense, whisper, he hisses "Get away from it!"
"I am terribly sorry, you see one does not often run into a creature masquerading as a chest, and you appear to have taken a prisoner which we seek to free. I will not attack again, but I do hope you understand that we are tasked with a dangerous mission and sometimes it is prudent to attack first, when you may have the jump on something. We thought you were in cohoots with the dark ones, which are antagonists to us. Anyway, I am glad that my blade was ineffective. May I ask your name and why you have a rat in a cage on your lid?"
Not understanding the creature, Dorian starts to cast comprehend languages, but stops when it appears that Dreygard can speak with it.
Luc leans against a wall, wondering what the hell anyone was saying. Are they really speaking to a chest?
"Be nice to it and get the rat. I have some rations too if you need some."
The mimic snaps at the scrap of jerky Darthal threw and eats it hungrily.
"Well, its good that we've set up communication. What exactly does it want?"
"It wants food. Maybe a weeks worth." Dreygard fishes a ration out of his pack and holds it out to the mimic. "We all could pitch in one."
"Would this do?"
"I certainly will," Darthal says, thinking about the desperate gnome up on the surface, and the chittering rat he waits for.
"I suppose I could part with a day's worth of rations. Thankfully I purchased several before heading down here just in case this turned into a multi-day affair." Dorian pulls some trail rations from his backpack. He hesitates before handing it over. "Though... are we sure we can trust this thing? I mean... its very nature is to pretend to be something it's not. That just screams 'don't trust me' to me."
Diurn tosses in two days of trail rations, cause that is how he rolls.
"If food is what the creature wants, I have a cantrip prepared that would let me change the, or in this case add, taste. Sadly that is all I could offer to contribute at the moment, my foodstuffs remained behind at my home."
"I wonder what flavors they like?" Darthal says. One of the legendary mimics. What other wonders lurk here that have never seen the sun? And did the gnomes leave it here, or is this a later arrival?
The group collects the rations and offers them to the mimic. It sniffs at the them and speaks.
Darthal reaches into his pack and pulls out two more days' worth of rations, then racks his mind to see if he can remember what flavors mimics like, other than eau de adventurer.
"Ask it what flavors it prefers. Meat sounds good, though, judginb by how it snapped at the jerky earlier."
"What would you like it flavored as. This guy over here can make it tasted like anything you want."
The mimic grins widely, showing off its sharp teeth. It then begins devouring one of the rations, talking between mouthfuls.
"Who is Kazmojen?" Darthal asks Dreygard to ask the mimic. "And how does one 'not allow' a mimic to do something?"
"Also, the mention of 'downstairs' is very interesting," he says to the other characters. "I don't think our map shows anything of another level. Maybe we could find out more about this? Even if we have to feed the mimic everything we're carrying, knowing more about this place could be critical, and we can always go back upstairs and buy more food."
"Jenya's riddle made mention of a "Malachite 'hold" - perhaps it is beneath these twisted gnomish halls?"
"I gave it all my rations and haven't eaten yet. Let's get Starbrow back home and come back tomorrow. Let's have a big meal in a respectable inn rather than eat jerky."