Deric continues his efforts to reach the shore.
The party lands the skiffs on the shore of the beach without too much effort and takes a look around, finally able to take a break and truly take in the beauty of the chamber with its floating motes of light. With a better look at the statue in the center island, they can see that it appears to be about to leap off of the island and over the waterfall.
The sand of this beach slopes up toward a door in the cave wall. To the south, two seven-foot-long mounds of sand break the otherwise smooth contours of the beach. A long oval shield painted with the rune of lust sits atop each mound.
The shields are not magical, and other than the painted rune are unremarkable heavy steel shields.
Paeral does not notice anything further on the beach.
Deric joins Paëral at the burial site. "Hmmm. Warriors of lust?"
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"Soldiers anyway, who died in the line of duty, I'd guess." says Kylee as she approaches the mounds and looks down on the shields.
"I would also guess that this means they were part of some larger contingent whose duty was to guard this complex. An Honor Guard, of sorts. And if we find more such soldiers within, they will no doubt view us as trespassers. Which I suppose will be true."
Yes, the mounds do appear to be freshly made, though with the preservation magics and lack of and environmental effect, they could be weeks or months old.
Deric looks down at his feet and wiggles one just a bit. "What is that wonderful smell? What perfume is that? ....I do not recall seeing perfume in your haversack."
Deric smiles at the cleric's response and says to Paëral "Footwork. Gonna take some time." He draws his greatsword and dons his shield.
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Paëral rises from the mounds. ”It appears fresh…while I’d guess it was recent, with protection from the elements, or if it magic were involved, it could be older…”
Deric smiles at the cleric's response and says to Paëral "Footwork. Gonna take some time."
The rogue breaks a wry smile. ”Aye…I’ve not mastered it either…”
He takes a look at the door to detect if it may be locked or trapped…
Barkot sniffs, shrugs, and raises an eyebrow at the warrior. "You been eating more of Maroux's stew, Deric?"
He turns and wanders over to the burial mounds to look at the shields more closely.
Paeral does not find any traps on the door.
Barkot does not have much experience with ancient shields, but these look very similar to the shield that Deric carries, so he assumes they are of modern design.
The shield is utilitarian, where everything else in this structure has been designed for beauty.
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Barkot sniffs, shrugs, and raises an eyebrow at the warrior. "You been eating more of Maroux's stew, Deric?"
Paëral chuckles as he quips, ”Perhaps that’s what he’s smelling…the scent of that stew could likely reach us, even from here…”
He looks warily over to the island with the statue. ”So, should we head through this door? Or does anyone think we need to check out that island with a statue…after my last encounter with statues, I’m a bit leery of that one…”
The walls of this room are covered by detailed murals depicting wanton acts involving otherworldly beings of every description. The murals cover every vertical surface, but stop abruptly after turning down the hallway to the south, as though abandoned by the artist.
Paral's eyes pick out the same signature in each mural, Amivadeus Yasrin.
Those amongst the party who have studied art appreciation note that the murals have a subtext of spiritual rot and decadence.
When the party has taken time to view the murals, they continue through a southern corridor, navigating carefully through the well-lit corridors.
As the party rounds a corner into a wider corridor, they see that the corridor ends in an iron grate before a wider chamber. Standing behind the gate is a tall, pale-skinned man with his long, white hair braided and hanging over one shoulder. He holds an exquisite silvery rapier in one hand and greets the party calmly.
"Greetings, friends or foes. Which be you?
I'll open the gate for you myself if you be the former, but fear I must prevent your passage if you be the latter. Would you speak the pass phrase for me?"
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Kylee looks over the murals with an unemotional critical eye. "There's so little joy in these faces." she finally murmurs. "More like the drudgery of slaves. It's like they've forgotten why they're doing all this. They're lost." She steps closer to examine the figure of a demonic creature licking the backside of an archon. "The brushwork is very good. Delicate. And you have to appreciate the composition, even if the content is brutal."
*****
"Greetings, friends or foes. Which be you?
I'll open the gate for you myself if you be the former, but fear I must prevent your passage if you be the latter. Would you speak the pass phrase for me?"
Kylee glances at the others, not wanting to be too forward, but finds herself speaking anyway.
"Who are you? And who set you here to guard this gate?" she asks the pale man. "I assure you, I have no wish to be your enemy."
The man shakes his head sadly, before speaking. "Then I have no choice but to stop you."
He steps out of view, and the party can hear the sounds of spellcasting
Squint
Ulyi
Kylee
Barkot
Deric
Jasper
Paeral
Enemy
"Wonder if these are graves of a couple of those soldiers from Korvosa, whaddayacallem, those Gray Maidens? And if they are, who mighta killed 'em?"
Barkot pulls out his journal and makes some sketches of the murals. "For The Heidmarch's husband," he explains to Kylee, more than a little embarrassed. "He pays us extra for drawings of any ancient murals we find - not just pictures like this."
The man shakes his head sadly, before speaking. "Then I have no choice but to stop you."
He steps out of view, and the party can hear the sounds of spellcasting.
"Oh, fer cryin' out loud," Barkot moves up and shouts through the bars. "How about this pass phrase: ‘Open the damn gate, ya wacko! We're just here to do our dang jobs, so let us through so we can get on with it and go home!’"
The half-orc shakes his head and pops a wand out of his wrist sheath. "Why does everybody wanna do things the hard way? Oh, Soralyon, Mystic Angel, here we go again. Please bless us all - and don't forget the new gal, she's good people - so's we can beat up this mope, who's probably just some tougher goofball's minion but he's in our way and wants ta fight. Sooner we get through this gate, the sooner we can find the next Dingus and get back to the city, and the closer we get to putting 'em all together to make the complete Whatchamacallit so's we can protect the city from the next Big Bad Thassilonian Cheese who rises up from old times and try to take over the world. 'Cause you just know that's gonna happen again. Anyways, thanks. You rock."
Paeral's arrow is able to catch the man in the small part of the arm that is sticking out from behind the pillar he took cover behind, but he nimbly steps away from the extradimensional pit that opens under his feet.
He looks toward Squint and Ulyi with a smirk, then focuses his attention on Paeral as he waggles his finger side to side in a cautioning motion.
With the man out in the open again, you notice that his sword is now crackling with electrical energy.
"Kylee, you seem to know magic. Can you transport me to the other side of that gate?"
Barkot rolls his eyes, then gives Kylee a curious look. She can't do that. Can she? That'd be useful.
Deric notices Barkot's reaction. "I did not see a spellbook in her possessions, hence the question."
Deric sheaths his greatsword, walks around and stows his shield. "I am good with one thing in this world and I just sheathed it."
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Kylee seems flustered and abashed.
"Wait! Don't do this!" she calls out to the pale man. At the suggestion that she might perhaps be able to teleport past the gate, she can only shrug and shake her head helplessly.
Finally she just shrinks back into the corner of the corridor, resigned to the blood that was about to flow.
Jasper steps out as his eyes glaze over. "Oblivion calls for you! Repent and wait with me for the End Times."
He casts Doom at the enemy.
The man laughs loudly at Jasper as the spell fails to have any effect. He then moves further back behind columns and the party can hear more spellcasting.
Squint
Ulyi
Kylee
Barkot
Deric
Jasper
Paeral
Enemy -11
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”I’ll need cover; Kylee, can you cast Daylight again?”
"No. But perhaps I can do something better." says Kylee, whose resolve seems to have returned. She moves up toward the gate, then begins to cast a spell of her own. In the middle of the Pale Guardian's room, a spectral flower begins to grow from the stones of the floor. It quickly grows to impressive size, then suddenly bursts forth a cloud of golden motes that race outward, filling the air of the room...
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Barkot grins at Kylee. “That’s a nice trick! Let’s see if he comes out ta play.”
The oracle bows his head for a moment and chants,
“In deepest cave, in oldest tomb,
Keep secrets safe, in darkest room.
Let those who’d let ancient evils loose,
Fear his power, and then vamoose!”
Barkot raises his head and mutters, “Yeah, it’s a work in progress.” He draws his crossbow.
Deric draws his bow as he moves forward.
If he comes within sight.
Jasper cries out, "Oblivion take us all! The demon spawn is immune to magic!" In despair, he bangs his head against the wall.