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Under the concentrated fire, the swarm withers, most of the massive insects burning or melting. The rest dissipate and flee, leaving you all very happy that they weren't able to bite you.
As you all look proudly at the remains of your first foe bested on the mission, Janire beams at you.
Well done! The very essence of teamw--
Her praising sentence is cut short by a loud crashing, quickly followed by a massive horned beast, wielding a huge axe, crashing through the forest! It pauses for a second, surveying you, before giving a loud snort and pointing it's blood covered weapon at you all.
Janira spring into action, unfurling her whip and dropping her pack.
Go! The cave entrance is just there, I'll hold that Minotaur off, he can't catch me! Finish your confirmation and I'll meet you when you come back outside!
She darts off into the forest, singing a song of a pathfinder who once held off an attack on a school of young aspirants by himself, saving the children but finally falling before his foes.
As she points out the door, you can now see the cleverly hidden entrance, not very far away at all.
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"Don't sing that one!" Aeleth yells as he recognises the song and the end that befalls the protagonist, but by then Janira is gone.
Cursing under his breath, he picks up Janira's pack and heads towards the entrance.
"Come on, let's hurry. Don't you die Janira. It's bad form to copy a pre-existing plot..."
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Dusklord's brow furrows as he watches Janira lead the beast into the woods.
"It appears we are too late to assist the halfling in her folly...we won't likely catch her, especially you in your heavy armor," Dusklord tells the paladin.
"But do good you must! But does one do more good by chasing the halfling into the woods, or following her instructions?" the necromancer asks as he enters the cave.
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As you step into the cave, the sounds of battle fade away, and you are met only with the sights and smells of dank water dripping from the roof. The cave turns into a tunnel that goes on for about a hundred or so feet, and it's dark enough that you need a light source of some kind to see clearly. As you make your way through the tunnel, you are met with a strange sight; a hole in the floor, roughly twenty feet across and spiked at the bottom!
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Dusklord glares at the chasm as if he could will it out of existence.
"This could prove...obnoxious to say the least. There is magic to overcome such obstacles, though I do not have it in my arsenal as yet. I suppose the use of ropes is our only option," he says as he pulls a coil of silk rope from his pack, which has obviously never seen use.
"This is my contribution to our collective effort. It is my hope that the rest of you will ensure no one falls..."
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Dusklord identifies the cloak as a Cloak of Resistance +1, and then follows the rest of you up the wall.
Making your way around a bend, you see a plank of wood, probably used to cross the pit, leaning against the wall. Further on, the tunnel opens up into a room covered in strange carvings, and dimly lit by luminescent fungi.
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If no one else does, Aeleth takes notes about the carvings and a sample of the luminescent fungi, albeit more using words then accurate pictures.
"Never was much of one for drawing... I wonder what kind of tale I can weave about theses cravings though."
Edited:
If no one else does, Aeleth takes notes about the carvings and a sample of the luminescent fungi, albeit more using words than accurate pictures.
"Never was much of one for drawing... I wonder what kind of tale I can weave about these carvings though."
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The tunnels continue on, leading deeper beneath the Kortos
Mounts until they eventually open into a large cavern. What
must have once been beautifully carved reliefs and inscriptions
have since weathered heavily, their features dulled and
softened to the point that it is hard to distinguish what each
once depicted. A wide tunnel exits the cavern on its far side,
and blue-burning torches line the passageway’s walls.
So 1,2,3, and 6
Artist
Beggar
Craftsman
Thief
Those who examine them recognize parallels between them and the Book of Aroden, though these differ slightly, like they are much, much older then any current edition of the text. You think you recognize the tales of the Artist, the Beggar, the Craftsman, and the Thief, though it's going to take some examination to be sure, and to figure out exactly what each of these is depicting, due to the differences.
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Happy to be moving again, Dusklord takes out a notepad and examines the carvings.
"I do find some interest in the examination of past civilizations. It reminds me that all of us, at some point, will die, and go the way of all the world. What more fascinating subject than death?" he wonders as he makes a rubbing of one of the more interesting carvings.
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With the studious minds all working together, you are able to decipher the ancient carvings, and Aeleth pens exquisite notes, in poetic description.
of impressive buildings, associated with Aroden having
painted the city of Absalom with beautiful colors so that
it might awe all who visited.
raised high, representing Aroden espousing humility in
all, lest they forget their shared humanity.
jewelry, and other moveable goods, referencing Aroden’s
delight at seeing his people express their ingenuity in
creating new products from raw materials.
shop while whispering a prayer, an allusion to a passage
saying that larceny—though illegal—is a form of praise,
for anything worth stealing is also worthy of praise for
its craftsmanship.
After all of the intellectual business is done, the party moves deeper into the cave. The soft light of the surrounding fungus mixes with the flickering glow of the nearby torches to reveal a grand chamber. A large pool of water along the chamber’s southern edge reflects the blue and green radiance to illuminate the massive stalactites that cling to the ceiling overhead. Two other tunnels branch off from this area, leading to the east and west.
Rising up from the pool is a column of rock with steeply
sloped sides and a flat top, as if someone had sawn off the top
of a massive stalagmite. A miniature city carved from this same
stone occupies nearly the entire surface. Tiny trinkets such
as ancient coins, polished semiprecious stones, and ornately
braided loops of string are scattered throughout the diorama,
and pale cave frogs clamber atop it. The smooth cavern floor is
covered in gravel and pebbles along the edge of the pool, and
several foot-long centipedes prowl among the gravel in their
search for prey.
Kneeling in front of the small city statue is a lone figure, head bowed as if in prayer.
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The gillman looks warily at the cloak, before gingerly taking it. He opens his mouth to speak, and his voice is raspy, like he rarely uses it, and his common is strangely pronounced. Even with it probably not being his first language, he forms his words in a way that seems like he hasn't ever heard himself speak.
That cloak... It must belong to one of my people. You... have my thanks for returning it. Do you... know where you are? This is a sacred place to my people. Please, I ask you not to... disturb anything.
He sees Aeleth in the back, and a small smile crosses his lips for the barest of seconds.
Pathfinders, you are? I have heard... tales... of your Society and the ravages of history you sometimes commit. Are you here because of the carvings? I have seen them, touched... them. They have little meaning to me, though. I only come here to listen to the water. Pure, clean... a... rarity these days.
He looks you all over, and sighs.
Do as you wish... But do not bring harm to our sacred place. Please...