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"Then it seems there is no further need to dither here. Thank you for your time Master Obadhar, pray consider informing that young fellow the world does not revolve around him, it is a lesson we must all learn, and if he can swallow it now, it will no doubt taste better than when he comes to learn it the hard way in the future." Morallo says moving down into the ruin loading his crossbow. Once inside he stops against the wall allowing Rolvark and Domrillin to move past him and then slipping into line in front of Cork.
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Before you venture down the darkness of the tomb into the unknown, he request the members of the Scarab Sages stay behind for a short while.
“the venture-captain will have need of such descriptions—the smell of the objects, the way they feel, and so on. Just don’t taste anything—could be dangerous!"
You believe Obahar believes he can impress Diya with such information.
The air cools as the tunnel leads deeper beneath Merab. Wooden supports shore up the walls in more precarious spots, and abandoned side tunnels show where the crew explored layers of older construction beneath the dig site. Eventually, the tunnel intersects a wall of much older construction than the surrounding area. Sledgehammers and other tools lie outside a hole in the wall large enough for a person to step through that opens onto a large room. The southern part of the room is largely collapsed. A sprawling message in red symbols covers the floor.
As you approach the message, the magic symbols on the floor writhe into a spiral and a telepathic message broadcast by an irritated, deep feminine voice enters your mind.
“Pathetic slave! Your base obsession with secrets served its purpose for a time, but you have grown tiresome. And now you dare to turn this obsession against me?! Foolish! You could have served a higher purpose, empowering me for all eternity. Now, for your defiance, you will grow to hate your immortality. You will wallow in ignorance forever, and even I, your master, will forget you.”
You know of several creatures obsessed with secrets, such as the powerful nalfeshnee demons and the ambitious doru divs. Given the construction team’s observations, it’s far more likely that the telepathic voice refers to a doru.
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Cork descends with the others into the tunnel. As it goes further in, the bright sunlight fades. When it gets too dark to see easily, Cork touches his chest armor and speaks an arcane word. The armor glows, giving off light. He looks with interest at the tunnel walls. It is amazing how this city has built itself upon itself. Layer upon layer. Who knows what secrets and wonders lay beneath it all.
They approach the older section and squeeze through the opening into the larger room. Cork scours his memory for anything like this and he comes up empty. "That message doesn't make any sense to me." he tells the group. "I think our only option is to move forward."
When Morallo suggests the north Cork immediately looks east. He is about to suggest the other passage purely out of a dislike for Morallo but he changes his mind. There's no point in petty actions. Besides, thinking like that could end up getting himself, or worse, others, injured or killed. Instead he turns to the large man.
"You suggest north? Any reason?"
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Before descending into the tunnel, Rolvark seeing how dim it is, grunts and fishes out an ioun torch from his breast pocket. He mutters a word of command, and the ioun torch activates, floating around his head and giving off a pale heat-less white light. Satisfied, he checks his weapons before heading in.
After the magic voice dissipates, Rolvark knowing nothing of the planes, shrugs and continues further in the ruins.
Upon reaching the two paths, Rolvark unsheathes his greatsword and gestures at the others to quiet down, wincing when the Diplomat calls out into the ruins. He points towards the eastern path, and whispers to the others "I think we should head east. Everyone ready your weapons or magic."
Rolvark then quietly moves towards the eastern path to scout out the area ahead.
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Before descending into the tunnel, Rolvark seeing how dim it is, grunts and fishes out an ioun torch from his breast pocket. He mutters a word of command, and the ioun torch activates, floating around his head and giving off a pale heat-less white light. Satisfied, he checks his weapons before heading in.
After the magic voice dissipates, Rolvark knowing nothing of the planes, shrugs and continues further in the ruins.
Upon reaching the two paths, Rolvark unsheathes his greatsword and gestures at the others to quiet down, wincing when the Diplomat calls out into the ruins. He points towards the eastern path, and whispers to the others "I think we should head east. Everyone ready your weapons or magic."
Rolvark then quietly moves towards the eastern path to scout out the area ahead.
"Not a bad idea. Good thinking."
The Diplomat takes out his crossbow and loads it, ready for a fight.
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Rolvark boldly heads down the eastern path in front of the group with his ioun torch, he attempts to go quietly but the bright lights from the ioun torch gives him away.
Broken marble litters the southern corners of this room, where a pair of toppled statues brandishing curved stone swords must once have reached nearly to the ceiling. Many broken weapons lie scattered about the room. The ceilings in this room are 20 feet high, while the stairs here rise to a platform 10 feet high.
Wandering aimlessly in the chamber is a lone skeleton, who turns its head to greet you with their evil looking faces as soon as you step in. The armored skeleton stands in a battle-ready pose, its weapon held high as cold blue light shines in its eye sockets.
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Morallo raises a hand and chants, "Si vocare aquilae!"
In a shower of golden sparks a maginficent celestial eagle appears behind the skeleton flanking the undead with Cork and launching a furious assault as it smites the evil creature!
The raptor seems to strike with uncanny accuracy, and Morallo smiles smugly as it tears into the skeletal foe, though there is more clanging of armor than splintering of bone. Then he backs off some thirty feet, not wanting to draw the dead things ire.
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft.; Perception +9
DEFENSE
AC 14, touch 13, flat-footed 12 (+2 Dex, +1 natural, +1 size)
hp 7 [1d8+3]
Fort +3 [+5], Ref +4, Will +2; SR 5
Celestial – Resist acid, cold, and electricity 5
OFFENSE
Speed 10ft., fly 80 ft. (average)
Melee 2 talons +3 [1d4+2], bite +3[1d4+2] Special Attacks Smite evil
STATISTICS
Str 14, Dex 15, Con 16, Int 2, Wis 15, Cha 7
Base Atk +0; CMB +1; CMD 13
Feats Weapon Finesse
Skills Fly +8, Perception +10; Racial Modifiers +8 Perception
SPECIAL ABILITIES
Smite evil/good 1/day as a swift action (adds CHA bonus (+0) to attack rolls and damage bonus equal to HD (+1) against evil/good foes; smite persists until target is dead or the celestial/fiendish creature rests).
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Cork steps back from the skeleton and towards one of the stone walls. He doesn't like feeling corner, or literally having his back to a wall, but that's a better situation that standing within reach of the skeleton's claws. Despite the fizzle of his previous spell, Cork tries again to injure the creature with his magic.
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Rolvark curses as the skeleton engages the party and when Cork gets injured. Dammit! He steps past Domrillin in an effort to put himself between the skeleton and Cork, then swings with his greatsword with all his might...
...and unfortunately misses. His eyes narrow as he sees the diplomat flatten against the wall and yells at his direction "Don't just stand there, do something!
Rolvark takes another step to the side (5-foot step) to fully interpose himself between the skeleton and Cork, and attacks the skeleton again.
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Rolvark comes around Domrilin to protect Cork and then test his arms against the undead swordsman. Rolvark strikes but the Undead manages to jump and dodges out of the way proving to be a difficult opponent.
Cork attempts to cast another spell to hinder the skeleton, but his aim is off the mark, and Diplomat hides behind worried for his own life!
The skeleton continues to cackles evilly and swings his sword in wide arc attempting to cut across Rolvark and Domrilin, but Rolvark deflects the sword away and stop
Rolvark returns the strike and manages to strike low enough to avoid the skeletons sword. But the sword doesn't break the skeleton as much as Rolvark would like.
Behind the safety of Rolvark, Cork just can't seem to get his aim right as another spell sizzles past the undead.
~~~
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The celestial eagle continues its assault landing blows with a talon and its beak and sending shards of bone flying!
Morallo himself chants a spell lazily and flicks out his wrist sending a small bolt of light flickering out to strike the ceiling some five feet from the skeleton.
"Well I never claimed to be an archer," the arcanist says lazily.
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Morallo, looking distinctly smug, moves forward and takes then shield grunting with effort, "If nobody minds?" Holding it awkwardly in one hand and his loaded crossbow in the other he moves back into line.
"We may as well continue in this direction, onwards! If we are feast enough we might get some more use out if the eagle before it dissipates in just over half a minute."
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When the skeleton stops moving, Cork takes a moment to examine his own wounds. The deep cut across his chest burns. Gingerly he rummages through his bag until he finds a healing wand. The wand vibrates slightly in his hand as he activates it against his skin. He repeats the process a couple more times till most of the damage is healed.
"No Morallo, I don't think anyone minds. You can try using that shield." Cork looks through the other things that the skeleton had. "There's nothing of interest to me here. I'd say we move on. Continuing west seems as good as anything to me."
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Rolvark lets out a sigh of relief as the skeleton crumbles. He turns around to Cork "Are you alright?" just in time to see Cork heal himself with his wand. Rolvark gives a nod of approval and claps him on the shoulder.
Not too bad. Looks like they can handle themselves when things get rough after all
Hearing the exchange, he actually nods at Morallo before hefting his sword "Let's go" and heads further east.
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The crawl westward leads into an large chamber that acts somewhat like a decorative hallway. At the end of the passage, a single statue of a man with a hyena head blocks the passage leading north from this room. The statue seems to have wore down over time and is covered in cracks. It holds a sword raised towards the ceiling.
With a step towards the entrance, it becomes apparent that the statue slightly moves as the dust falls shakes off slightly. It is as alsmot as if it was attempting to warn you not to step any closer, that it is a guardian of the doorway.