Tragershen glances at Aurora, and she can see his contempt for the Wolf Queen in his eyes. But he complies.
"There was an altar in the base of a massive tree. The altar itself appeared benign, but it had a dagger thrust in it, a dagger that seemed to cause the corruption. We removed it." He considers reaching into the extra dimensional space of his pack to retrieve it, but decides to wait until she responds to his revelation, if it at all.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Tragershen responds to her inquiring glance by pulling out the dagger. Drusilla narrows her gaze. "The Spike of Anoma. That thing is pure poison. Carry it far from here and you'll be doing the world a favor. Anyone who knows how to use it can create a tear in the natural order of things. It has tasted the blood of many, many creatures over the centuries. What forces planted it in my woods... I can only speculate that it has something to do with the horrors in the depths far below us. The Rappan Athuk, the Dungeon of Graves writhes uneasily in its delirious nightmares. My forests are, in some ways, the heavy blanket that tamps down the evil, but in my heart I know that its roots are older than these...
She leaps lightly down from her saddleless perch on the mighty wolf, nimbly darting to the foot of a 300 foot spruce. The tree trunk is almost sixty feet in circumference, so even the imposing figure of the Wolf Queen is rendered tiny, fey, and insignificant next to it. She vaults onto the outflung roots and taps them with her toe. "...the darkness is older than the forest, and the forest partakes in the darkness even as it neutralizes the corruption into something properly wild."
"Anything that passes through the gravemouth risks waking forces more terrible than we can handle. You see, I keep the woods wild not just because it is more beautiful than the filthy, doomed hives of the 'civilized cities.' And this forest is the most important in the world, it is the bastion, the cover, the gateway of the natural, and the unnatural would love nothing more than to force and entrance, to corrupt, to break the trance, to erupt, the rancorous rankling of all that gibbers in its unholy unrest threatens us. And I fear we are losing. The cities encroach upon us. Our wolves are too weak to handle the many bandits, the kobolds, trolls, ogres, and even Aragnak the Red has left his island to kindle blazes all across my realm now that Springdread the Green Dragon has been slain. I mourn Springdread. The forest lost a real apex predator in him. As it is, the pressure upon us grows too heavy. Bristleback's settlement has broken its bargains and swells beyond the cyclopean walls. Outsiders flood the forest like so many ash-borers, like so much blight. And someone, some dark unblinking eye from below gambled that I would be distracted... and they very nearly won the bet." A shadow of discontent haunts the Wolf Queen.
"I am usually unwilling to break precedents set by those who held my position in the ancient days. But I need to know what is stirring under our feet. Your veins are full of poison. Your friend is dead, but I can restore him to life in a new body...” She sniffs Bedlam and says, “He’d be a… ... human next time around. Disappointing. You can also treat him by your own methods if you'd like, I'm not sure a Dwarf would ever consent to such a... downgrade. Regardless, I will aid you if you send me word of what you find in the depths. And here is a token of goodwill. This might protect you."
She pulls off a Ring of Protection +1 and hands it to Tragershen.
"I will meditate upon powerful magic to remove the venom from your veins. I may also send an agent with you. One of my apprentices. I am willing to introduce you to the Fey, though why you’d bother is beyond me. Best to head straight for the gravemouth and get to the bottom of this. Oh, and, don’t go down the well."
Bedlam wants to know if he can get to the Stone Head:
...appropriately, considering that the most powerful presence in the woods may now be on your side, you have three days of travel without any encounters. You may use these clean days to go to town (two days), the Fey (one day), or the Mouth of Doom and the Stone Head (three days from where you are now).
A thunderstorm of laughing begins if the third option is taken by the party.
A light weeping drizzle, if not....
Anzath makes it clear to the wolf queen how much she would love to personally kill the many bandits, the kobolds, trolls, ogres, and even, no, especially Aragnak the Red. More so, she has a contract to kill Yaza Mongro, who still stirs in the darkness below. Hopefully this is enough to prove her worth as an ally.
Tragershen accepts the ring, slipping it on a finger opposite his bonded object ring.
He looks to Anzath and says "Given the circumstances, I believe we should delay entreating with the fey and see to getting Bedlam restored to our forces. I suggest we return to the Mouth of Doom and see what power the Stone Head may have to aid us in that. Ulman Dark has intimated that he might be able to restore someone from the dead as well, but I am skeptical that alchemy could achieve such a miraculous result, even if it is supplemented by minor magics."
During their travels, Tragershen will seek to tease out some of the secrets of the Spike of Anoma to understand its dangers and perhaps its value. Spellcraft . If it eludes him during the first day, he'll continue to make a study of it. . .
Talathel bows his head in gratitude.
"My thanks, Wolf Queen. For the knowledge and for the aid. I intend to continue pressing against the evil forces here until they are all vanquished or I am. I would rather you as an ally in this matter than a foe."
No *demon* is going to best elven martial prowess if I can help it!
He turns to the group.
"I concur with Tragershen. We should return to the stone head and see if it can or will restore Bedlam to life. I believe that he would be most effective if returned to us as a dwarf."
Talathel will attempt to aid Tragershen in understanding the Spike of Anoma, though he may be more helpful in revealing more of its history.
Aurora remains respectfully quiet, curious eyes following the Wolf Queen's every movement. She bows her head to Drusilla's offers. "You know this land and its secrets far better than we do; we would be fools to deny you. What we learn, we will share."
----
"As for the matter of Bedlam..." she turns her attention to the group, "The stone head offers a powerful gift. If you believe Bedlam is worthy of it, then... I suppose we can beseech it." She wrinkles her nose.
And she'll join in on helping to study the Spike of Anoma.
→ Not helpful, that one...
The thunder really sounds like laughter as Aurora finishes speaking....
Anzath begrudgingly accepts the reality that Bedlam is worth more to them alive than dead. She may not have gained new armor, but Bedlam’s sacrifice gained them a powerful ally.
Ippolit senses the consternation of the main party. The gendarme-turned-adventurer pipes up, "Those merchants aren't helpless (anymore), and Gelver and I know the way. I'll take them back to the Ferry, if you want, and you can take poor Mr. Bedlam to the Head."
Maybe it's just the wolves shadowing your path, but you encounter no danger on the way to the Mouth of Doom.
You make your way down the stairs. Any monsters that stumble into your path stumble much more quickly in the other direction--the empty niches of the MoD will gradually refill, but the place hasn't recharged just yet.
The stone head sees you. The gravely lips grind against each other, not so much shaping words as scratching them out. Its irritating jokes begin immediately. "Ho, there, meatlings, one of you is looking a little chilly, ha ha ha. But all things must end. Are you here to make a wish, then? You must be the only folks for eons to come by without making one. I have two options for you: experience, or a reawakening? A reawakening, you say? Hmmm."
"Eh, at least that means I get that annoying memory of the people who didn't bother wishing out of my head. When you're all head, such a thing is quite the problem, ha! Anyway, my work here is done, and I'll speak to you people nevermore. Goodbye."
The stone falls utterly silent. Bedlam coughs. He sits up. He's looking partly dead, still, but he's much more lively than he has been for a few days.
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Anzath give Bedlam a sip from.her flask, "Velkome back to de land of de living." She then presents him with the very fang that killed him.
"Welcome back indeed, Bedlam."
Sitting up, whipping his black and dirty beard around, and smiling from ear to ear, the dwarf states,
Me be hav'n da durnest dream! Me ale run out, da foods be gone and sum9ne be gave me a bath!
Aurora draws in a slow, patient breath through her nose. "Hopefully, we will not require this old one's assistance in the future, and this has not been a mistake."
Clacking the butt of her staff against the floor, she looks over the party, "As a reminder, the Wolf Queen has expressed interest in us seeking out the Gravemouth, and has cautioned us against 'descending the well' — I'm unsure if that is another location within Rappan Athuk, or if she is referring to the level of the complex here beneath the pools."
Keeping quiet among the wolves as this is not her area of knowing and the others are talking about a stone head. Which is odd but if this forest is as important as it was alluded to then it should be interesting.
Looking from the now still head to the revived dwarf. Finally speaking for the first time since the spiders, "What in the Hell's was that?"
"Gravemouth may be another term for this Mouth of Doom, or it may be the other 'main' entrance that Bristleback told us about. For now, I think we should work on flushing out whatever is responsible for the diseases below. If we have caused it to stir, we should ensure it does not escape this place. Also, Yaza has been watching and probing this portion, and it would not due to have her master its secrets to use against us, and the fine folks of this region."
Bedlam takes the proffered flask from Anzath.
He takes the fang with his other hand.
Taking a deep pull from the flask, the dwarf belches.
Dat be durn gud!And dis be making a fine drink'n horn!
Anzath takes a moment to appreciate Kritfisher’s purple majesty in the darkness of the dungeon.
“Dragonz and Volf Queenz, everyone vantz uz to kill demonz, ve kill demonz.”
Looking from the now still head to the revived dwarf. Finally speaking for the first time since the spiders, "What in the Hell's was that?"
Aurora, eyeing the dwarf's feeble-looking condition, goes ahead and lofts her holy symbol up to channel a burst of positive energy...
... and again...
"... I honestly think something in this complex is dampening my healing. I never channel well, in here..." With a dejected sigh, the cleric lets her holy symbol drop slack. Eyes momentarily narrowing in concentration, she considers one of the spells she already has prepared and reformulates it.
Rubbing her chin along the length of the bird on her shoulder while longing for the simplicity of the city. Never thought I would miss that.
The dwarf smiles at the cleric.
"As we descend back to the diseased corridors, there is a bit of unfinished business we have. The room where good Brand was magicked into sleep, and we immolated the entire chamber. We had reason to believe something might lie beneath that rug. It would only be the slightest detour to investigate it."
You proceed to the room. The chamber is badly charred, a far sight from the candlelit and beautiful space it once was. The burned rug has deteriorated completely. The damaged trap door is clearly visible below. It doesn't look like anyone else has touched it since you torched it.
Aurora retrieves a length of rope from her equipment. "Whoever wants to go first, let us tie this around your torso... in case something happens again and you need be dragged out."
Talathel stands ready by the trapdoor, spear in hand.
"I will cover whomever goes first. There are stealthier here, with sharper eyes.", he says matter-of-factly.
There are stealthier here, with sharper eyes."[/b]
“Yez,” agrees Anzath, “Like de bird.”
Bedlam begins to brew a Mutagen.
Me be need'n a pick me up! Me be feel'n fuzzy!
There are stealthier here, with sharper eyes."[/b]“Yez,” agrees Anzath, “Like de bird.”
From the door, Tragershen casts detect magic on the room and specifically the trapdoor. If he detects anything, he'll let the group know.
"Ok, ok. I vill do it. Jeez you guyz, it vaz only joke."
The trapdoor has an aura of enchantment.
"The trapdoor has magic to it. Perhaps a sleep enchantment like Brand succumbed to."
“Non-elvez, klear out,” Anzath motions for Vael, Aurora, and Bedlam to stand back, opens the door and peers inside.
Anzath feels a tingling, as of static electricity, as the sleep spell triggers. But she shrugs it off, of course. Inside the trap door she finds a small chest. It won't open, even after battering or picking the lock, and it is very heavy. But it is not attached to the floor. You also notice a second, smaller trapdoor, this one cleverly hidden. Do you open it?
Of course we open it. After taking all precautions.
...fortunately, the trap is another Sleep-based effect. Anzath yawns a bit as she loots the gem inside.
Bedlam sighs.
Don't be no spiders in dere?
We will head back down to the Fountain of Pestilence. We'll take the stairs that spill out into area 23.
At the top of the stairs, Trag will stop and imbibe an antiplague and apply some vermin repellent. He'll offer the same to Aurora, first, then others.
If we don't meet any resistance in 23 (and no one else has a preference on where we pick up), we'll move north to the library room. If nothing is changed there, head east through the door (that you said wasn't on the map) to where the flows seem to be coming from.
Anzath has her own Antiplague.
Once finished mixing his Mutagen, the dwarf drinks it, along with an Antiplague and a Vermin Repellent.
Let's be 'sploring!
The party moves through the eerie silence of the dead monastery. Tragershen directs them to move briskly towards the strange oozing hallway in the library.
The foul scent of the Pestilence intensifies as you draw closer. Vael's goddess protects her, but the rest of you are exposed to the sickness. Everyone else places their faith in the doses of antiplague.
...despite the party's preparations, Talathel feels a little woozy. The herbal and alchemical magic coursing through Anzath's veins protects her from a similar fate.
From Da Book:
This huge room reeks with the smell of rot and disease, an
overwhelming miasma that rises from a huge central pool of pus and
filth. At the middle of the pool, the horrid liquids fountain upward to
a height of five feet. Five large rivulets of the fluid trickle away from the fountain, threading their way across the floor to disappear down corridors or through gaps in the walls.
The room itself was obviously once used as a temple: a huge alcove
in the northern part of the room contains a ten-foot-tall statue of a
benevolent-looking figure wearing white-painted robes. However, the
statue is splashed with blood and filth, and a grisly necklace made of
human hands has been draped around the statue’s neck like some sort of
psychopathic offering. All of these are left hands.
/book.
As you take in the situation, the pool in the fountain begins to bubble violently.
Anzath gives Talathel a worried look as they enter the fountain room, but taking in the grisly sights, she focuses on the task at... ehem... hand.