Petronicus throws the Shoanti a nasty look before pulling a rag from his belt and cleaning off his boots. Once he has cleaned the acidic ooze off his own weapon's blade, he looks around in all directions. "Hmm, I feel an ocean breeze here as well, but I see no crack leading outside. How can that be?"
Milo is relieved to see the second amoeba squashed by the Shoanti. He wipes the goo from his chest and cleans the wound he received before cleaning his blade.
As he is taking care of himself his mind falls into a light meditative state and he attempts to use this to better sense where the breeze the Chelaxian noted is coming from.
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Um'bala narrows his eyes in thought. "Could be an figment," he said as he ticked off the possibilities in his mind. "Maybe one of the walls or the floor ahead is actually illusory, either disguising a lethal pit trap or hiding an alternate way in. Either way, I should be able to see if there are any auras about." Again, the wizard casts his arcane gaze around the room to see if there are lingering mystic auras in the room.
"Here friend, let me heal that burn." The Shoanti says as he taps the wound on Milo's chest with the wand.
Milo had not been expecting the wands touch, but felt much better afterwards, "Ah, thank you, my friend! Those things were not only ugly to see, but had a rather painful touch!"
Um'bala narrows his eyes in thought. "Could be an figment," he said as he ticked off the possibilities in his mind. "Maybe one of the walls or the floor ahead is actually illusory, either disguising a lethal pit trap or hiding an alternate way in. Either way, I should be able to see if there are any auras about." Again, the wizard casts his arcane gaze around the room to see if there are lingering mystic auras in the room.
Um'bala detects a new magic aura somewhere within the range of the spell, but the exact type of magic involved and its precise location seem to be hidden from him.
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"OK, good news - the floor's fine," Um'bala says at last, ceasing his concentration on his cantrip. "One of the walls to the north is an illusion, but I wasn't able to determine which. Might be some sort of masking spell on it or something. You know, given that the Shard of Pride is the one that led us to this vault, it might be that there will be a lot of illusory spells protecting it. Probably shouldn't trust our senses - if something feels odd, it just might be."
Milo shrugs his shoulders, "Erm...Okay. I suppose we should move to the north, then?"
"Well let's try left for now and we'll have to come back here to examine this later as we get ready to travel down the right path."
"Alright then." Mach moves to take point once more.
As you head to through the doorway to the west, you enter a small room with only a single exit to the north that leads to a stairway going down. As you approach the stairs, you suddenly hear a sneeze from around the corner, followed by an exclamation in a language none of you understand.
Quintus is sure what to make of the sneeze from around the corner but he creates more dancing lights and he send them around the corner.
When Milo hears the sneeze he moves into a defensive pose, but then it occurs to him what had just happen and he snickers, "Sneeeakyyyyyy!", he says in a low voice as he winks at Um'bala.
When Quintus casts his spell he begins to move forward, but against the wall using the shadows to his best advantage.
As Milo moves around the corner and into the stairwell, he sees a small, blue-skinned figure standing about as tall as he, with an oversized nose and long, pointed ears. It is holding a small dagger in one hand and covering its nose with the other.
Seeing Milo, he lets out a shriek and begins to flee down the stairwell.
Standing bear readies his bola's and prepares to throw them ahead.
"We know you are there...come out and if you do not wish us any harm we will not do harm upon you. Attack as and be met in kind." Standing Bear pronounces
From time to time the voice of his Mentor from Windsong, Elder Len. This is one of them, One should not make mock lest one finds oneself mocked.
Suppressing an annoyed sigh he he lunges forward and if the creature is not too far ahead he attempts to trip him with the stitched sling that had been wrapped around his waist.
If the creature is too far ahead then he simply takes off in pursuit.
Mach keeps his blades readied for trouble and starts following Milo, trying to be as stealthy as he can.
Milo catches up to the creature in only a few steps, and catches its heel in his stitched sling. The creature comes crashing down in the stairwell, crying out in pain as its body and head hit the wall and stairs.
Milo quickly follows up with moves to restrain the creature and hold him until his 'bigger' fellows appear, "Easy there, we're not here to hurt you!", he says doing his best to indicate this by hurting his blueness as little as possible as he restrains it.
Milo quickly puts the small creature in a tight hold, assisted by Petronicus who comes up to help. .
The creature shrieks and babbles in a language that none of you understand.
Quintus walks around the corner and is surprised to see a small blue creature down here. As it continues to babble in its language Quintus looks over to Um'Bala.
"Do you have any idea what that creature is or what language it is even speaking?"
"NOPE!", says Milo as he does his best to maintain his hold.
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"Hold him for a moment longer," Um'bala says as he retrieves a spell scroll. "I won't be able to speak with him, but I'll at least know what he's babbling about." He casts the spell, and the scroll bursts into a cool blue flame, evaporating into nothingness. As it does, the words of the mite begin to reshape into understandable words and phrases...
Mach is silent, keeping his blades ready in case their new 'friend' tries something foolish.
The small creature finally stops struggling as it realizes its chance of escape are slim to none. It keeps on yelling in a language only Um'bala can understand. "Help me my brothers. The big ones have got me! Ach, they can't hear me, but at least these giants can't understand what I am saying. King Zuuga will have my head for this!"
Standing Bear calmly looks on as his friends hold the creature down.
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"He's calling for help," Um'bala translates. "I don't think he speaks Common, or he'd know I can understand him. I know his liege lord's name now, but I don't think we'll get much more than this from him. Can you knock him out? While we may have to fight his friends, I'd rather not have this one's blood on my hands."
"Right. I'll handle it", says Milo as he begins to squeeze the Mite in an effort to knock him out.
Milo knocks him out with ease as he goes limp in the halfling's arms.
When the Mite stops struggling, Milo takes a deep breath, Right! He'll 'sleep' for a while. So, if there are one of these fellows here and he reacted thusly, what's the chance on the rest of them being more inviting?"
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"Next to nothing," Um'bala replies. "They're territorial creatures, and sadistic cowards to boot. We might have some luck breaking their resolve if we depose their king, though. Also, they're a bit resistant to mortal weaponry, but just barely. If you have cold iron, then that will help, but their connection to the First World is tenuous at best. I wouldn't worry too much if you don't have a coldforged weapon."
As he standing up, "Well... My hands seemed to work on him and they are certainly not coldforged! (A bit chilly, perhaps, though...)"
Mach winces. "So... does anyone have cold iron on them? Just in case?"
Petronicus shakes his head. "Not me. Last I heard we were fighting lycanthropes. Nobody said anything to me about faeries."
He lets out a sigh of frustration. "So should we go back and buy some cold iron weapons in the city? Seems like it might be a good investment, even though I'm getting tired of constantly having to go up and down through this damn piling. With all their smarts, the runelords could at least have built up a better way of getting in that didn't involve walking through every damned floor twice."
The Chelaxian then looks down at the mite.
"If we go, what do we do with the little blue guy? We could finish him, no? That way we wouldn't have to worry about him waking up and running off to join his other little blue friends."
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"I don't think it'll be too necessary to head back," Um'bala answers. "Lycanthropes are more resistant to mortal weaponry than mites are. I think your polearm will work just fine. As for this one, what about putting him in the cage we found Standing Bear in? Then we don't have to worry about him sneaking up behind us."
Milo is clearly not comfortable with killing the Mite, "Yes, if you know there's a cage nearby, let us leave him there. We can come back and release him when we have eventually finished our work here."
Petronicus scratches his stubbled chin. "Might be good to tie him up as well. He might be small enough to fit between the bars of the cage we found the big Shoanti in. Sl ... I mean, halfling, they teach you anything about knots at that abbey of yours?"
He puts his polearm aside and takes off his backpack and pulls out a length of rope that he cuts with his dagger, handing it to Milo.
Milos takes the rope, ties up the Mite and takes a hanky out of his sash, balls it up and shoves it in the creatures mouth as well, "This might keep him quiet for a while should he wake up."
Standing he looks at the humans around him, "I could drag him, but you big, strong folk could move him quicker."
Petronicus easily hauls him onto his shoulder. As he does so, six small darts fall out of the mite's pack. "You want those?" he asks Milo.
No matter how the halfling responds, Petronicus then carries the unconscious gremlin away. He returns a few minutes later, slightly out of breath.
"Man, those stairs are steep. Well, everyone ready to proceed?"
Milo carefully picks up the darts (in case they are poisoned, etc.) and takes a look at them before depositing them in his sash, "Well, no point leaving them around to clutter up the place.
"Or informing his fellow Mites that one of their own has been captured."
Once the party starts moving he falls into his place and follows along. He's a bit more on edge now, because they still can not be certain that they might stumble upon a less-sneezey Mite guard.
The party heads down the staircase, now descending below the entrance level and below the water table of the bay outside.
The stairwell eventually ends and opens out into a 10'-wide passage which precedes twenty feet to the east before opening into a large room. This wide catacomb chamber (approximately 60' by 70') has rows of burial niches cut into the stone walls. These have all been stripped bare of any former occupants. Half a dozen ten-foot-high mounds of dirt and debris dominate the floor of the chamber, reaching nearly to the ceiling fifteen feet above. An exit corridor on the far side of the room continues to the east, and the room seems to be unoccupied.