Isme looks at Glimmer blankly, but explains, "Blood holds some power, and I'm taking some of her power for myself. Didn't work this time, but it doesn't matter much."
You can do that?! I want to do that! Power is even better than treasure!
Glimmer goes over and starts lapping at the corpse. Then she stopped and made a face. Her power doesn't taste very good.
Isme seems amused at Glimmer's actions. "It doesn't, and I wouldn't do it if I didn't have to. There's a ritual you have to perform and then an expediture of energy to even attempt to draw the correct information from the blood and translate that into something usable, usually a spell."
Glimmer blinked as she processed the information Isme had given her. Then she seemed disappointed.
Oh.
She made a few faces trying to get the case out of her mouth and sighed.
Isme throws out a suggestion. "Still, there are a rare few creatures whose power you can gain by drinking their blood, usually because of the large amount of raw magic infused in them. But I wouldn't really recommend it considering consuming the blood can be more wasteful than other methods and finding the creature then getting blood from them is an effort in itself."
Are there ways that are less icky? I like meat and all, but drinking blood just seems wrong.
Spectrum woke up stiff, sore and angry. He forced himself to stand and put himself through a number of elven meditative exercises designed to prepare himself for battle and then sat down with the spell book he kept chained to his belt.
An hour later he stood and was ready.
Array and Glimmer pulled open spectrum's pack and helped themselves to breakfast. Glimmer was even nice enough to make sure Spectrum ate as well.
Wyam having spent the last of his healing light before the rest, he and Noro are ready for action once more.
Wyam passes around a few rations. "Should I stay back and guard again?"
"No, you are with me. It is Noro's turn for guard duty."
"I'll keep a look-out while you lead," Isme says, and then twitters a birdsong that banishes whatever sleepiness they had left.
Spectrum leaves the two prisoners with Noro and moves to the hidden passage. He takes a moment to charge Array and Glimmer with the wand, setting the two little dragons cracking with barely contained electricity and let them head into the passage to scout.
You all step through the discovered door into a hidden chamber, caked in ancient dust. Doors stand to the north, south and east.
Some...thing... hears your steps, and throws itself against the southern door with an almighty clamour. Claws drag against stone, furious growls are heard; but the door is unmoved.
The doors to this room are made of stone but bear no handles. An indented outline of a seven-pointed star, its shape covered by hollows and slits, graces the spot where handles should be.
Spectrum stops and listens, trying to estimate the size and nature of the creature by the sounds it made while scraping against the stone.
Daring to step a little closer, Spectrum tries to get a better look at the strange slits, and if anything is visible through them.
Spectrum finds the door sturdy and unmarked by any of the creature's impacts. It seems untrapped, but unopenable.
Isme takes a look herself.
"I don't suppose Lyrie would know what's behind this door?"
"Good idea." Spectrum went back up to retrieve the prisoner.
"I... guess Malfeshnekor is behind that door. We hadn't found this passage yet, this is amazing..."
"Has your research turned up anything about the door?"
"A little about there being a key, nothing else..."
"Should we just leave him trapped? But someone else might take advantage of him again."
"I would prefer to see the creature dead. Barghests are quite dangerous."
"If I had the means I would raze this whole place to the foundations and let it vanish forever into the waves." he said bitterly.
Spectrum takes another look at the door, trying to spot any sort of clue as to how to open it.
Spectrum's studious minds discerns that the indent in the door likely means a similarly-shaped object is needed to open it, or at least complete the object.
"We will need to find the proper tool, or fabricate one." he says. With no point in staying here, he walked back out of the hidden hall.
Spectrum walked down the hall and turned north.
This barren room contains an upraised dais on which sits a marble throne. To either side stand statues of a man clutching a book and a glaive. A ghostly figure seems to be seated in the throne, an image of the same man who appears in the statues. He seems to be addressing an audience as he moves his hands about, fingers decorated with hooked rings, but the words issuing form his phantom mouth are diffi cult to make out and in a strange language.
Spectrum recognizes the langauge as Thasillonian, and constantly repeated.
“…is upon us, but I command you
remain. Witness my power, how Alaznist’s petty wrath is but a fl ash
compared to my strength. Take my fi nal work to your graves, and let
its memory be the last thing you…”
With Spectrum's preturnatural historical knowledge, he recognizes long-dead Karzoug, ancient Runelord of Greed.
"Karzoug. Reenrolled of Greed. A powerful sorcerer king from the Thassilonian empire. This is a very ancient place."
"An illusion. Could be hiding something. Possibly dangerous. Stand back."
Spectrum carefully moves forward to interact with the illusion and see if it is masking anything.
Spectrum is unable to see through this ancient and powerful magic.
Spectrum spends a little time passing his hands through the illusion, looking for anything hidden by the image. After a moment he steps back. "I believe it to be merely a decoration."
Plain stone.
Glimmer pokes her head through the illusion like a curious cat, then seems bored and wanders out the way she came.
Spectrum smiles at her and follows. "It seems our fearless leader has decided to move on."
This room contains three low tables, their tops covered with a strange and chilling selection of tools, saws, long bladed knives, and objects whose purpose is not readily apparent. A strange collection of bones lies near the southern table—too many to be one skeleton, but too few to be two.
As soon as Spectrum saw the bones he tensed. He knew there was supposed to be undead nearby.
"Wyam, do you sense anything?"
"Nothing."
Spectrum nods and begins to search the room more carefully.
The surgical tools on the tables are exquisitely made, and are worth 100 gp in all. Sitting on the easternmost table is an object that, upon closer examination, isn’t a tool at all. It appears to be a silver and gold seven-pointed star, one surface studded with nodules and blades, and the other featuring a thin curved handle.
Spectrum collects the tools and then picks up the strange star.