As Todric rolls, the ant snaps at the warrior, unsure what his plan is, but not liking it either way.
Ebon's swing cleaves the ant's head in two, bathing him and the dwarf in ichor and gore. Targost's arcane missile strikes the last creature, a look of fear washing over it's face before it crumples from a collapsed chest cavity.
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Calanthe immediately springs to action, pure white energy dancing across her fingertips. She gently places a hand on Todric's ant bite, completely sealing the wound as if it had never been sustained at all; however, by the time she moves next to the unconscious man, most of her innate power has been used up in the strain of healing Todric.
The dwarf's eyes flutter open and immediately open wide in terror as the demonic woman works her magics upon him. "I be sorry mistress... pp-please dunna make me sleep... Ah beg ye!" He then throws himself at Calanthe's feet, kissing them and begging apologies for any gore he may spill on her garb.
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Norine watches Calanthe go by in a flash and draws her wand of healing as fast as she can. Between Calanthe and Ebon, I am going to have to sharpen my game! She speaks her words of command and touches the poor dwarf, checking his wounds as she does so, and reassuring him with a hand on his shoulder, "You're safe now, and we won't make you sleep."
When he is calm and healed, Norine asks, "Are you Torvic? We were sent to help you."
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With a large grin on his face, Ebon drags the ant carcass out of the way. He the cleans off his Greatsword and sheathes it, and finally enters with the others.
" HA! Did you see its head split in two? Grawr!"
He flexes and preens for a moment.
" Oh. Is everyone ok? Is this the Torvic we are looking for?"
Then he seems to deflate as the fatigue toxins work thru his system...
The dwarf looks are the group as they begin to question him, a crazied look in his sleep deprived eyes, "Torvic, yes yes, that be me. Who be you, who who, who who?" he asks, beginning to giggle uncontrollably. "Thank ye for saving me. Them mites wanted ta take me back they did, but you saved me!" His giggling turns to sobs as he again begins to press kisses to Calanthe and then Norines feet and hems. "Not worthy am I for such mighty warriors ta save me!" He rises to his feet and dusts off his workmans tunic, eyeing the blades of both Todric and Ebon with a surprising look of clarity. "Fine lookin blades ye have there. Not DWARVEN work mind ye, but they seem ta work well enough."
As Torvic begins to move about, it is clear he is not your typical dwarf. He seems frail and emaciated, the skin on his face droops, and his eyes are dark rimmed from lack of sleep. His beard and dark hard aren't well kept, and he smells as if he hasn't bathed in weeks.
At the mention of food, the dwarf's stomach rumbles audibly, "Hard tack eh, Ah guess I could choke it down. Pathfinder's eh? Ye find any path's recently?" he asks, the fits of giggle threatening to return. "Ye see a whelp of a man recently, calls imself Beggar? Stole a pearl o'mine two weeks ago and I mean ta give'm what for!"
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Norine blushes with the dwarf's effusive praise, "We all have our contributions to make. Perhaps even a thief such as Beggar, in that his capture and the retrieval of your pearl is what brought us here, to you rescue."
"It seems, though, that you have lost some time - perhaps due to lack of sleep - since it has been at least eight weeks since the pearl was stolen from you, if near here it was, as it took us four weeks to get here."
"Is there a reason you do not wish to sleep?"
Targost examines the misshapen creatures and finds nothing of value, just some dirty rags used as clothing and a few hunks of sharpened rocks they used as weapons.
Calanthe can sense that whatever the reason Torvic has lost over a month of time has left him with a broken psyche. At times he is completely normal, acting as you would expect of an archeologist, at others, he is raving lunatic that could be more of a danger to himself than anything else.
The dwarf nonchalantly waves off Norines insistence that he has lost such a significant length of time. "That canna be lass, it canna be. But ta answer ye question, when ye sleep, she finds ye. A lady dressed in white, she plays with yer dreams, twisting them into nightmares ye canna wake from." Tears welling up in his eyes, shoulders beginning to shake with held in sobs, he continues. "Ye ever strangle yer children with yer bare hands? I have a dozen times. I've flayed me wife's skin from her bones and drank her blood. I've watch me home burn and listened to the screams of family and friends until I tore me own ears from me head. I've tried ta kill meself often, but each time I find it failed and she just keeps laughing... the laughing... always the laughing." he quiets up, visibly fighting himself and the emotions threatening to boil forth.
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I hope everyone had a good night's sleep last night, because it is going to be awhile before we get another, I fear.
Norine puts a reassuring arm around the dwarf. "You will have your revenge and the dreams will stop when we are successful," Norine confides confidently, scrunching her face up sternly. "Now tell us all that you can," she intones, as she throws a blanket around him, "But stay focused and do so quickly there may not be much time before those who came after you are missed."
"Ain't much ta say really." the dwarf starts, "Me and me men were excavating toward the Gallery of Wonders, workin on disarmin the traps'n trying to gain entrance inta the main hall. Amazin wonder be said the reside there!" Furrowing his brow, the dwarf stops and ponders a moment. Then, leaping in the air, he exclaims " I was there! I was there! But, there were things there! I remember the group vanishing into blackness, screams, and then nothing. That be when the nightmares started." His eyes gong wide, the feverish look overtakes him again as dashes between the party members, pleading with them, "Don't sleep. Do anything ye need to, but DON'T SLEEP!"
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"Easy now friend, no one here is going to doze off just now. It sounds like you found what you were looking for, but it was perhaps better protected than you expected. You speak of a lady dressed in white warping your dreams into terrible nightmares. I wonder, maybe I've heard of something similar..."
Tod racks his brain to see if this sounds familiar to anything he's studied in the last few months.
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Calanthe is quite disturbed by poor Torvic - not just from his ravings, but the fact that his spirit is shifting and moving in a way she's never seen before. It is as if two people exist inside the dwarf, two completely different colours and shapes, shifting between the two at apparently random moments... it leaves the tiefling on edge.
"We need to figure out what's causing this madness..." she says quietly. "Torvic... would you lead us to the Gallery of Wonders? Or at least give us directions..."
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Norine's eyebrows raise and her nose twitches as she considers, "He also said, 'Working on disarming traps', so he may need to come with us, if able, since I only know how to disarm traps by walking in to them..."
"We will also need descriptions and names for your men, as we shall try to find and save them too."
Todric can think of dozens of things that could be the stuff of nightmares. Without more than a woman in a white gown, he can't pinpoint anything.
The dwarf's eyes shine with excitement as Calanthe and Norine indicate they will accompany him to the Gallery! "Of course I would lead ye lasses. Normally I'd say we should wait, bein it's a few more hours hike through treacherous and winding mountain paths, but ye'd be likely to try and nap, and that be a bad thing." Retrieving his fallen battle axe from the cave, he slings a light pack over his shoulder, "Shall we be goin?"
Taking a few steps, he palms his forehead, "And ye asked about me fellows. There be Lyrehawk, a lovely human lass, and me kin Merick who stayed with me when the nightmares started. We had about a haf'dozen more that fled when the trouble started."
Torvic doesn't answer, just stares dumbfounded at the gnome as she asks if a dwarf could handle a weapon.
A slight smile crosses Torvics face as Norine clarifies her statement. "It be true I'm not feelin me usual self, but Ah can still swing an axe."
Torvic leads the team towards what he describes as a secret entrance. It lies hidden at the end of a long ledge of worked stone at the bottom of a treacherous and winding mountain path. The narrow ledge leads along a fungus choked crevasse. The smooth wall is adorned with dwarven art. Intricately detailed bas-relief designs depict a regal-looking dwarf wearing a crown kneeling before another in an artisan's apron. The path ends at a section of wall adorned with dwarven runes.
Brandon notices an oddity with the Bas-relief, halting Torvic from moving the runes. After a few moments of consult with Torvic, he places the pearl within and a small click is heard. Torvic's eyes widen slightly and he mutters something about that not being there before. Getting a nod from Brandon, Torvic presses in a few of the runes and the wall slides away, allowing entrance into the gallery.
Beyond the gallery's hidden door, a nauseating wonderland of giant fungi fills the hallway. Foul smelling mold obscures the walls' carved adornments. A narrow footpath winds among the towering mushrooms, all lit by the unwholesome blue glow of mold. Crossing through the area is slow going as the mold makes the floor slick. There appear to be exits of this room to the east and west.
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Norine has an everburning holy symbol of Desna hanging from her neck.
Seeing the unusual molds, Norine's hand reaches for her flasks - before she remembers that she gave them to Torvic... She reties a scarf around her face, though, as some precaution against the foul-smelling molds.
She then casts Detect Magic and begins scanning as she goes, recasting when necessary.
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Tod's face twists is disgust as the foul stench enters his nose. He fights back a gag, then follows Norine's example and ties a scarf around his face, remembering his mission to the Blackros Museum.
"Shall I continue to lead the way? If so, Targost, would you be willing to lend me that arrow?"
Tod keeps his rapier out, and will hold the arrow in his off hand if Targost agrees.
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Norine dutifully peers left and then right, scanning both with her detection. She then flips her thumb, nods her head up quickly, and appears to follow something in the air, catching it and slapping it down on her wrist. She stares at her blank wrist for a moment before confidently whispering and pointing, "This way! Right! Unless Torvic says otherwise."
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While this decision is being made, Ebon draws his Greatsword and casts light on it. He is still marveling at this new ability when the others choose west.
Amazing that this is so, who would have thought I could make light?
" Hah! Gorum be praised!
Huh? Oh. West it is then....
Bah! What a stench!!!
Norine, you wouldn't have another scarf I could borrow would you? I seem to have misplaced the last one."
The group heads west, and then south as the hall turns, and before them is an odd curtain of sticky yellow filaments, beyond which the corridor opens to reveal a bizarre chamber. Glowing fungi bathe the chamber in dim blue light, revealing dozens of incomprehensible devices and texts heaped atop tables and shelves. Half torture chamber, half alchemical laboratory, one table holds the dissected remains of a mountain goat, surrounded by blood-splattered parchments covered in cryptic notes and drawings. Strange wires project from the goats remains, connected to odd looking metallic boxes.
An odd looking grey man mutters to himself as he examines the remains. Torvic sees the man and holds his head in agony, then, before he can be held back, dashes forward with a howl. The man looks up in amazement, gestures, and most of the room is covered in magical darkness.