"If anyone's asking me, lads, and I know yew ain't, I say leave the ogre." the rogue says, nervously. "We've seen dat blighter tear a bloke's 'ead clean off 'is shoulders. I don't fancy bein' trapped between a bored ogre an' wotever's in dat dungeon."
Gil looked out the window for a few long moments, then shrugged. "He likely wouldn't fit well into the corridors anyway, and I'm not in a mood to go search for him."
Taking note of where Tiadora lead their fearless leaders, Gil went upstairs to gather his things.
"Sounds fine to me, to leave Grumblejack out of it for now. I don't think stumbling around the moors to look for our ogre would make for the most impressive, decisive start to our task, for those observing our performance," Felrin says, with a little tip of his head toward Tiadora, lounging cat-like nearby as the party readies themselves.
Numair, having stepped out briefly to gather his equipment, seems to appear as if from nowhere. "Ready and awaiting your orders, my captains!" he exclaims with a mock salute and broad smile.
Izabelle opens and shuts her hand in rapid succession, listening to Tiadora and the group in turn.
"Good. Then we'll waste no time." Izabelle nods, agreeing with the group's general sentiment. As soon as Malum joins them, Izabelle nods towards the door. "Felrin, you were taking point?"
Felrin nods back at Izabelle, then steps up to the door. He looks curiously at his hand, then raises it to the door and says, "Atidaryti Sezamo!" in a determined tone.
Malum is the last to join the other five as he wanders down the stairs still looking like a common peasant under the effect of Asmodeus' amulet.
At Felrin's command, the wooden door silently swings inwards on well-oiled hinges. Ahead lies a flight of a dozen odd stone stairs leading down. The landing at the bottom of the stairs is just big enough to accommodate the entire group and lit by two torches that frame another door facing east.
On the door is an inscribed plaque in Common that reads "Deception is a tool. Self-deception is death. Deceive always thy enemies but never thyself or thine followers."
Tiadora watches the group preparing to move down the flight of stairs and calls out Watch out for spiders and other... things down there... or... you know... She lowers her voice conspiratorially (interestingly enough, it still seems to carry quite well to the group though) and winks at no one in particular I could just go and get this pendant for you folks and save everyone the trouble...
"Yew could?" says the rogue, incredulously.
Tiadora walks back over smiling and pats the rogue on a grimy cheek condescendingly Of - *course* I could... if I could make Branderscar my personal kitchen... she unconsciously rubs her hand on her dress as if trying to get rid of some imaginary dirt after touching the rogue ...why this would be child's play. After all, I helped Master design the basement. She glances at Izabelle and then at Felrin before looking back to Twigs But I don't believe the choice is yours to make now, is it?
Felrin eyes the beautiful blond with a mix of annoyance and awe, then says, "We'll take care, my lady. But we'd best be going, if we're to brave the basement and recover the pendant. Twigs, I don't think we'll get help from any but ourselves, so how 'bout we get going?"
He hefts his new mace in his hand, then turns and heads down the stairs, eyes and ears alert for any threats.
Malum scratches his head. "Hmm, personally I think bringing Grumblejack would be good experience, both for him and us in working together. But, it seems that we are going without him. I suppose we might as well see what is below."
"I don't doubt you. You're certainly... capable enough." Izabelle eyes the woman appraisingly, a smile playing about her lips. "But we're not going to fall for that one. So kind of you to offer though."
She turns towards their objective once more. "Focus. I'm sure the Master has all sorts of lovely surprises waiting for us. Let's get moving."
Izabelle inspects the carving on the door once they've moved down the stairs.
"Deception... So that's the name of the game." the druidess mutters to herself briefly, before straightening up. "Eyes open boys. Things won't be as they seem from this point on."
She moves towards the door, but then hesitates, glancing across at Felrin. "You don't think the Master would lay us a trap so soon, would you?"
Izabelle crouches, a dissatisfied growl emenating from the back of her throat. She places her hand on the ground, fingers tracing across the rough floor. All of a sudden it feels like she's on the hunt again. Or perhaps... It's the other way around. "The Master seems to enjoy his... contraptions. Felrin, you seemed to know them well. See to it that none of them take us by surprise." She gestures towards the door.
"I dealt with contraptions as well ill have you know. Quite proficient at disposing of them." Gil muttered, snooping around the door looking for signs of deadly engineering.
"Yes, it seems the Master would indeed." Pulling out his new set of tools, he started working on the contraption. "Id just as soon prefer to do this myself, but in the interest of "teamwork", why dont you assist me Felrin?"
A small pout appears for a moment on Tiadora's red lips as her offer is summarily denied. The next moment it's gone as she mirrors the druid's smile. You'd be surprised at the number of people willing to jump at that and shy away from a challenge... but you're absolutely right.
Her grin gets wider as she starts walking away from the group and says over her shoulder You would have been waiting for a loooooong time for me to bring you your pendant. Take care down there. Try not to get yourselves killed. I'm getting rather fond of you bunch! Her merry laugh echoes around the entryway as she heads out of the group's sight.
The door quietly swings closed behind the group as the last of them descend down the flight of stairs. Felrin leads the other five with everyone keeping a wary eye on their surroundings. Other than the gloomy atmosphere and a slight dampness in the air, nothing seems out of place.
Felrin and Giltharon carefully examine the door while Izabelle reads the plaque out loud. Nothing seems out of place - the door for all intents and purposes, appears to be an ordinary door.
"Deception... So that's the name of the game." the druidess mutters to herself briefly, before straightening up. "Eyes open boys. Things won't be as they seem from this point on."
"I believe you are correct, Sabel. However, if I may also suggest that this is also more of the Master's instructions as it is a warning. I believe he may be trying to give us some tactics; perhaps some of the foes have been given our descriptions or some of the traps work off of appearance. Maybe we should all activate our amulets, so that we appear to be much less than we are? A group of trapped peasants or slaves, for instance." Numair will not await a response before activating his amulet to appear non-descript and non-threatening. His fine clothes give way to an illusion of a dirty laborer's tunic and breeches, while his well-groomed face becomes unshaven and greasy. His fine, jet-black hair becomes a reddish-blonde, and he now looks more like a native Talirean.
The thought of looking like a dirty peasant wasn't to Gils liking, especially not so soon after returning to the luxurious livery of his past. Still, atleast the others already knew what he looked like underneath. Touching the amulet, he too changed into the appearance of a commoner, although compared to Twigs and Numair, he looked far better off. Rising and packing up hit tools, he turned to reveal himself looking like a craftsman of a sort, an apron and tool belt adorning him. Clean and tidy, he still looked like a commoner, albeit a well off one. Inspecting his own appearance with a look of obvious satisfaction, he turned to Felrin. "Maybe I shall present myself as a clockmaker, if anyone asks?" He said, obviously making a joke, although his usual joyless visage left everyone second guessing that observation.
Turning towards the door, he looked it over one last time, casting a spell of magic detection. "If its all the same to you, I think I shall be out in front. If a death-trap ends up killing us all Id atleast prefer it if we had the best chance of spotting it in time."
He then reached for the door handle, tugging at it and attempting to open it.
Felrin hesitates a moment, considering whether to hide his true self or not. I have hidden my whole life, why should I do so again? But if Numair's right, if this is another of the Master's tests? Then I want to be sure to pass it. And he knows more of Asmodeus and his ways than I do, that's certain. I'll do it, but I'll end it as soon as I'm able.
As Felrin reaches into his shirt to touch the unholy star concealed there, he chuckles a moment at Gil's comment, "A clockmaker? You may have the look for it, but I don't see you having the patience. Though perhaps you'll surprise me. And yes, I think having you in front is fine, I'll follow right behind."
He then touches the star and is transformed, taking on the appearance of a large, lumbering laborer, perhaps a stonemason from the brawny arms and shoulders. Unfortunately, the transformation also gives him a low forehead, thick brow, broad nose and small, almost piggish eyes, making him look like a slow-minded idiot used to smashing what he's told to smash.
"Bold." Izabelle nods at Gil's suggestion. The thought of him blundering into snare after snare entertained her, at least. She steps back to allow room for Gil and Felrin to take the lead.
Izabelle follows suit, taking on the appearance of a matronly figure with pursed lips and hair greying at the roots. "An interesting plan, Numair. We'll see if it pays off."
Not detecting any magical auras emanating from the door, Giltharon reaches for the door handle and tugs on it. The door swings open quite easily.
Peering into the room, the group can see it lit with torches - same as the flight of stairs and landing they currently stand on. The room appears to be a square with each side roughly 30 feet in length. Directly opposite from where the group stands at present (the door that was just opened is on the west wall of the room) is another door in the room, in the middle of the east wall of the room. No other entrances or exits are visible from the current vantage point.
The only other item of note in the square room is a round pedestal made of some unidentifiable gray stone that is located in the center of the room. It stands roughly four feet tall and is about a foot wide.
Felrin lays a hand on Gil's back, in something between a pat and a push, and says, "Lead the way, bold one."
"I think we should take nothing for granted while we are here. The test seems to be can we avoid being deceived. As such the obvious solution is probably incorrect."
Malum peers into the room.
"I would suspect that either the pedestal or the door are supposed to gather our attention, and thus deceive us from something else."
Malum will peer at the floor and see if there are any footprints. Maybe the White Ravens have left clues when they went thru.
Malum will leave the inspection of the door/pedestal to the trapfinders.
"Why does everyone insist on touching me? Do you take pleasure in going against my wishes?" Gil sneered, pushing back against Felrins shove. Straightening his clothes, he gave Felrin an icy stare, before turning back to the room
Crouching in the door opening, he peered left and right inside the room. "Wherever theres talk of deception, my thoughts always wander to magical illusions first. Unless the magic is truly powerful, the sensation of touch will betray it to us." He inched inside, moving to the right along the wall. As he walked, he held one hand to the wall, scanning for any difference in texture, or a possible tunnel or hole disguised as wall. His hand occupied with the wall, his eyes scanned the floor for traps.
"Of course, we could also check for the obvious first, since illusions could be masking something nasty." Numair begins using detect magic on the room, first targeting the pedestal, then moving the other parts of the room (floor, walls, door).
"No offense intended, and I certainly took no pleasure in it," Felrin says in response to Gil's indignation, the tiefling's articulate voice in sharp contrast to the village-idiot appearance given him by the holy symbol's magic. "But you make a good point about the sensation of touch revealing things. I am now confident, from a tap on your back and a moment of your pleasant conversation, that you're our Giltharon."
He then assists Gil in scanning the room for any hazards, moving to the left side along the wall, using his ability to detect magic at the same time.
The group moves slowly and carefully into the room with Felrin moving northwards along the wall, Giltharon moving southwards and Malum examining the floor. Numair takes the opportunity to check for magical auras and emanations from various parts of the room.
There doesn't appear to be anything magical about the room or the pedestal. Malum carefully searches for footprints but being a relatively dust-free stone floor, there are none.
Giltharon is the first to make a discovery as his hands pass over what at first glance appears to be a tiny crack in the wall. Closer inspection reveals that the crack is much too uniform and is in fact, a tiny gap. His keen eyes look around and soon discover a section of the wall near the floor that can be pushed in. As he does, the 'crack' widens and a part of the southern wall silently swings out revealing a cleverly hidden door that provides yet another exit out of the room to the south.
On the other end of the room, Felrin walks along the northern wall and turns the corner heading to the east door. His sharp eyes pick out an irregularity in the floor right in front of the east door... which turns out to be a concealed pit, almost invisible to the naked eye in the gloom.
As the duo cover the walls of the chamber, the rest of the group congregates near the pedestal. There are no magical emanations from the monolithic construct but the top of the pedestal is lined with what appears to be a soft velvety cloth. In the center sits a small stone about the size of a kidney bean. It shines like a pale blue diamond... a *BIG* diamond... the light of the torches reflecting off its many facets... or perhaps the stone is glowing with an inner light of its own? Sitting before the stone on the velvet cloth is a handwritten note that reads "A deception that is half-truth is the darkest of all."
Malum, Numair and Izabelle look at each other pondering the meaning. Twigs, on the other hand, appears entranced by the stone and slowly reaches out a hand to pocket it...
"Well do try to remember in the future...and I am not "your anything". I am my own and the Masters." Gil responded with a more or less polite tone, as he moved inside to conduct his search.
Having found the secret door, he turned to look at the others, his face bearing an all too satisfied smug smile at his discovery. It quickly faded however, as he spotted the gem on the pedestal, and then that look in Twigs' eyes as his hand flexed open and shut. It was all to clear what the scruffy man was thinking.
"I doubt that's what we're looking for. Though wouldn't it be funny if it were a double bluff? Have us run about for hours in these dark passages like cellar rats, searching for the 'real' one..." Izabelle says, folding her arms as she watches Twigs reach for the diamond. She doesn't stop him, though she does take a precautionary step back.
Felrin stops abruptly as he discovers the hidden pit. He says in a low voice, "Well, looks like Tiadora help build a few surprises into the design of this place." He squats down and examines the trap, looking for whatever mechanism sets it off. If it is simply driven by weight, he reaches a hand onto the pit's surface, pushing downward and trying to set off the trap and see what lies below.
He then looks up to see Gil on the far side of the room, looking quite pleased with himself, and indicating a hidden door. Felrin's focus is then drawn to the center of the room, where Twigs seems to be engaged in a battle of wills with himself - which is not unlike watching a wrestling bout between two blind drunks with their hands bound behind their backs. Felrin's eyes widen as he waits to see what Twigs will do.
"Wots all this then? A diamond? Either way, they's would pay a pretty penny for dat in Matharyn, eh. Shiny bit of tom-foolery so it is... an I'm sure Mis'er Cardnal wit' the mince-pies in the back of 'is head won't miss it..." he says, voice tinged with manic denial. "What do yew say to a six-way split, eh lads?" he says, snatching up the jewel.
As he sees Twigs reach for the gem, Numair makes a quick lunge to try and stop him.
initiative
"Wait! We don't know what this really is, you fool!"
grapple
Felrin examines the pit trap which is a combination of clever camouflage and a weighted trigger. With minimal effort, he activates the trap being careful to stay well back of the bit.
Peering over the edge of the pit, Felrin notes that the pit is only about 10 feet deep. The light of the torches doesn't quite reach the bottom of the pit but that poses little issue to the tiefling's vision. He notes several spiky protrusions (about 6 inches in length) rising up from the floor of the pit. There appears to be something engraved on one of the walls near the floor of the pit as well but Felrin's too far away to read it from his current vantage point.
Malum watches Twigs' conflict as to reach for the shiny or not.
Well this should be instructive, either it will help 'cure' Twigs of reaching for things he shouldn't or it will encourage him to keep being impulsive. I'm kind of curious as to which it will be.
Malum seems to lean back a bit and there seems to be a twinkle in his eye and a bit of anticipatory smile as he watches Twigs reach for the 'shiny'.
Malum and Izabelle watch Twigs reach for the shining stone on the pedestal. "Wait! We don't know what this really is, you fool!" exclaims Numair lunging towards the rogue trying to stop him from removing the bauble. The wizard's hands only succeed in grabbing at a sleeve though as the wily rogue seemingly or not evades Numair.
"What do yew say to a six-way split, eh lads?" cackles Twigs, grinning maniacally, snatching up the jewel. It's clear that the stone appears to have its own light source as Twigs softly closes a fist over it. There's a soft pale blue glow emanating from within the stone.
Letting out a drawn out breath, something akin to a sigh of relief but not quite, Gil walked over to the rogue. "Well, cant say I'm not atleast a little disappointed nothing happened." he muttered, looking at the shining stone. "One has to wonder what the light means. Perhaps it is magical?" He waved his hands over the stone, speaking an incantation to answer the question.
Once the excitement over Twigs' new acquisition calms down a bit, Felrin turns to Numair and shares what he's learned about the pit trap, "It looks like there's some writing or something engraved in the side of this pit, but I can't read it from here. Do you think I could lower you down on a rope to take a look at it? You're the most likely to be able to read whatever it says, and it might be useful. Knowing this place, though, it might just be a taunt at whoever has just landed on the spikes down there, as a little amusement before they die. So, what do you say, Numair?"
"More likely the latter." Izabelle says. "Given the messages so far, I don't doubt it's there to mock whoever blunders into it. We shouldn't waste time with it, since we've found the way forward already."
She gestures towards the secret door.
Twigs shivers as he turns the stone over in his palm. Holding it between two fingers he squints at it, tongue poking up between his yellowed teeth an tutting dissapointedly "'ain't worf no scratch at all... Deception is bloomin' right. Jes' the light tellin' pork pies wih us..."
"'ere, Gilly. 'ave a gander at thi- ..." he shouts, flailing, as the quartz-like shard pirouettes out of his hands and shatters at his feet. "Oh, sod."
Felrin looks at Iz in frustration, gesturing down into the pit as if he intends to say something. He visibly struggles with himself not to say anything, his face displaying a blend of 'But it'll only take a second! It could be useful!' and 'Thorn said she's the boss, we're supposed to learn to work as a team and under a leader.' Somewhat surprisingly, the latter sentiment wins out, and the bone-shot tiefling shrugs and moves across the room towards the secret door, small shards of Twigs' crystal scattering across the floor in front of him.
Gil noticed Felrins hesitation at the pit, the Tiefling gesturing uselessly into it before seemingly giving up on arguing. "She may have the final say. That doesn't mean you should just roll over like a dog at the first sign of opposition."
"Noone ever got anywhere by assuming, or atleast not for long." he said, looking at Izabelle as he crossed the room to stand near Felrin. He barely registered Twigs handing the gem towards him, although the sound of it shattering did cause his head to whip around and look at it. He gave the rogue his usual glare, before proceeding to Felrin. "Felrin can lower me down by my arm. The spikes wont be a problem unless you actually fall onto them. It wont take but a moment." Fighting the urge to simply go about acting on what he had said, he turned to look at her again, waiting for her reply.
Numair was about to answer Felrin in the affirmative, but at Isabelle's words, he frowns and quiets himself. As I suspected, she's a fool. Nothing should be overlooked in this place, it is all a test. She will leads us to our failure; perhaps I should start looking for ways to supplant her with Felrin.
Numair's eyes grow wide as Twigs breaks the item. "Damnation!" he exclaims, not sure what this bodes ...
fort
ref
Izabelle scowls, her illusory guise giving her the appearance of a displeased school marm. "Make it quick, then. And if you fall in, don't expect me to-"
As the gem slips from Twigs' fingers, Izabelle quickly turns away, covering her face with her arm as she drops to one knee.
CATCHITCATCHITCATCHIT... Twigs shouts making futile grabs at the stone. Izabelle quickly averts her eyes anticipating the worst while Numair stares in shocked surprise. The faux diamond hits the ground and shatters with a sharp *POP*.
A bluish white mist emerges from the shattered stone numbing the druid's back with a bone chilling cold. Numair, in his shocked surprise fails to move away in time and grits his teeth as the cold tendrils wrap around his ankles.
The mist dissipates in a few moments leaving no trace it ever having existed other than a mild coldness about the room. A surly Twigs looks down at the ground and notices the stone has shattered into pieces too numerous to gather up - with the exception of a single piece slightly smaller than half the size of the original. It appears to have several cracks in it but still pulses with a faint bluish glow inside.