The fountain is clean. Valrah perches on the shoulder of Sarenrae and preens.
Anzath wipes the blood off of Kritfisher and out of her eyes, and sees that Talathel is badly wounded and unconscious.
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Adelie rushes over to Mone and checks on her. From the wolf's side, he looks nervously between Anzath and what was once Yaza.
"Do you do that to everyone who slaps you, or was there something special about her?"
Aurora plants the butt of her staff firmly against the gory ground near Yaza, leaning on the length of wood and panting heavily. "That was... rough..."
Upon confirming the death of all enemies that could be healed by positive energy, the cleric lofts her holy symbol to send out a wave of healing.
And once more, with feeling.
“She made fool of me. I hate her.”
Anzath cradles Talathel’s head in her lap and gently strokes his hair, even after Aurora eases their pains.
And so, after any still-breathing acolytes are helped along their way to perdition by Aurora and her companions, the god Nethys breathes life into the people.
Talathel's eyes flutter open...
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Bedlam claps the waking elf on the back as he struggles to sit up.
Now dat wuz da fighting we be crav'n! Well fought, elf!
The dwarf nods over at Anzath.
You be smell'n like yous be at a gully dwarf wedding!
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The party begins the ritual (or not) stripping of the dead. Yaza's new +1 light mace is now in your possession, as is an assortment of potions. The acolytes and the skeletal champion had generic stuff--see the loot page.
Vael prays intently at the foot of the fountain. Valrah crawls down her neck and starts pecking at her holy symbol. "Bird! I'm praying here! Dang, you're acting like a normal bird, not my spiritual guide..."
Valrah pops a hidden clasp. A folded up bit of paper tumbles out. Vael's eyes bug out. "Aurora... take a look at this! I think it's a scroll!"
Valrah chortles. Indeed, it is a Scroll of Sending. Aurora takes Vael's message and relays it to the Temple of Sarenrae: "Temple clear. Yaza dead. Holy fountain found, statue cleansed. Am in fountain room now with slayer, bird, adventurers. Heading home soon. In her holy name Vael Dahl."
The return message says, "Along shortly. Hold position."
And so, the party isn't terribly surprised when a pop of crackling static electricity fills the room, and suddenly, a party of Sarenraean bigwigs enters the room. A pair of paladins wielding the finest scimitars and wearing the most ornate armor you've ever seen rush to the doors. The high priestess moves toward the statue and falls to her knees. The temple wizard's hair gradually starts to droop as the teleportation magic disperses... he clicks his tongue appreciatively at the statue. "I'll get that out in a jiffy!"
He begins casting various transmutation spells, mostly off of scrolls: Stone to Mud to excavate the statue, and then, "With your permission, m'am! Everyone, step back!"
He casts Dispel Magic to make the statue suitable for shrinkage, then Shrink Item to reduce it to a (tele-) portable size.
The paladins heft the statue. The priestess says, "Dahl! Time to leave."
Vael stares incredulously at her superior, and then starts doing Vael things:
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"Sir! I won't just leave these people! They've risked their lives in our cause and they are sick (most of 'em) and they need cover! Permission to proceed to Zelkor's Ferry and by boat requested!"
The high priestess says, "We don't have time for this, Dahl! We're exposed here--demonic forces still lie latent in these halls. You've saved the fountain that the damned foolish monks risked all those years ago--that's all that matters. We're dissolving this temple for good. We should have never tried to turn it into an outpost. Sarenrae understands a tactical retreat. No time for chitchat. You've done extremely well and I have a mission for you back at the temple--I want you to mentor some new recruits. We've got a bunch of various half-bloods in the new batch, and I think it will be inspiring for them to learn from someone with an unconventional background like yours."
"TRAINING! BAH!" Vael shudders. She looks at her companions and bites her lip. "I'll see you again someday. I have to go now. Here, they have more of these at the temple."
She shucks off her mwk mithral breastplate and passes it to Anzath--the shimmering, hammered images of the goddess gleam in the dim light. "I know you'll appreciate this. Have it recut into chain if you'd rather, but keep the image of Sarenrae intact, please." She also hands over her Handy Haversack. "Useful stuff in there."
The high priestess is furious. "You're not authorized to... donate temple property to mercenaries!!" She seethes, but she doesn't interfere.
Vael says, "The slayer is owed her fee. This is a first installment... She turns to Anzath again. "And you can borrow this, but I'll want it back someday. It belongs here, not in training camp. Keep up the good fight, slayer Anzath, may She watch over you."
She hands over her plus one scimitar, the one engraved with the following prayer: "When I lift this sword, I pray that this poor sinner shall receive eternal life."
Meanwhile, the temple wizard nods to Tragershen and mutters, "This place was a research station that got into more trouble than it could handle. There are several libraries here... if you care to get to the bottom of the records, I'd appreciate learning what happened, and will pay. Beware, I don't think you've fully cleansed the place, even if Sarenrae's statue is now safe. Oh, you should try this, it's great fun! And sorry about the priestess... it's her way, and it's actually quite effective."
He hands over a scroll of Shrink Item and a scroll of Stone to Mud.
The Sarenraeans gather and prepare to depart. You may interact with them if you'd like, before they go!
Meanwhile, the temple wizard nods to Tragershen and mutters, "This place was a research station that got into more trouble than it could handle. There are several libraries here... if you care to get to the bottom of the records, I'd appreciate learning what happened, and will pay. Beware, I don't think you've fully cleansed the place, even if Sarenrae's statue is now safe. Oh, you should try this, it's great fun! And sorry about the priestess... it's her way, and it's actually quite effective."
He hands over a scroll of Shrink Item and a scroll of Stone to Mud.
With one hand, Tragershen accepts the scrolls and tucks them in his pack. He extends his other hand in greeting. "I am Tragershen, and I thank you kindly. I shall use them well in service of bringing the evil of this place to an end. And what we learn about the monks downfall, I will be certain to share with you. I assume you can be contacted through the Temple of Sarenrae in Riddleport?"
"Before you flee, can you tell me if you've heard of the spike of anoma?"
Anzath wordlessly accepts the armor and scimitar from Vael, giving the paladin a long and meaningful look in the eye.
Before the priestess leaves again, she confirms with her that Yaza will be disposed of properly this time. She then holds out her hand, palm up, as if expecting some sort of contract to be settled.
Talathel stands, woozier than he feels he ought to be, but certainly alive.
"Victory.", he utters hoarsely, then a thin smile spreads on his face as he looks at his companions, particularly Anzath.
He watches the Saranraen force efficiently take care of their business, and raises his spear in the direction of Vael.
"The best of fortune to you, Vael Dahl. May all forces of darkness that oppose you fall."
He turns to the others afterwards.
"We should take this time to recover, regroup, and return to the fight. But not too long. The dragon has us on an hour-glass."
Adelie, who had been quietly muttering to Mone, looks up.
"The - dragon? The Wolf Queen didn't say anything about a dragon when she sent me after you..."
The high priestess looks at Anzath, uncomprehending. She shakes Anzath's extended hand and says, "Blessings upon thee." Before Anzath can protest, the wizard pulls her aside and passes a sack of gold to the slayer, whispering, "Three thousand, plus Dahl's 'donations,' and we should be square here. It's all I have on me, so if you want to haggle, find me in town. You're doing good work here, we appreciate it."
The wizard is unused to having his memory banks come up empty, but he shrugs and says, "I have never heard of a 'Spike of Anoma,' perhaps someone around here is telling tall tales."
Bedlam grins sheepishly, as the priestly high--mucky mucks explains the situation.
We Be need'n sum restoration before yous be darting off! We Be thanking ya!
He--proudly--shows them his huge spider bite marks!
Me wuz dead. Dearest. Deadier den dead.
Aurora, perhaps a tad awkwardly, stands aside to let the Sarenite contingent to work without interference. She still leans on her staff, pale blue eyes following the priests as they went about their mission, blinking lizardlike at the sheer efficiency they worked with.
"It was an honor to work with you, Vael," she says, finally, as the tiefling is made ready to depart.
Anzath nods her thanks to the wizard, "Our debtz are settled."
Later, after the Serenites have departed she peeks into the sack, "Ugh, do not remind me about dragon."
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Bedlam grins sheepishly, as the priestly high--mucky mucks explains the situation.
We Be need'n sum restoration before yous be darting off! We Be thanking ya!
He--proudly--shows them his huge spider bite marks!
Me wuz dead. Dearest. Deadier den dead.
The priestess is shocked. "What is... what is wrong with that dwarf?! Normally I wouldn't waste the time and resources, but this is a mission of mercy..."
She casts Restoration on Bedlam.
"Umm... I think there's still something wrong with him... maybe he needs stronger magic... anyway, let's get out of here."
The dwarf belches his gratitude while clearing his nostrils.
Me thanks; feel a bit better!
Everyone's hair frizzes up as the Teleport spell starts cooking. Whoosh, and Vael and her associates are gone.
Anzath finds Vael's leftover gear in the Handy Haversack. She finds potions of Pass Without Trace, Vanish, and possibly Hidden Presence. She also finds 1300 GP, all of Vael's worldly wealth.
A deep but raspy voice comes up through the staircase. "Umm... I don't know what's going on up there... but I still need my cab fare, ya know... miz Mongro? Are you still up there?"
Talathel calls down:
"Yaza is dead. Your fare is unfortunately lost with her."
Quietly to the others, Tragershen says "Perhaps the driver below might have information for us. If we offer to pay Yaza's fare and a bit more, perhaps he can tell us what lies the way they came from."
"An astute point, Tragershen. I would contribute to such an offer."
The elves call up the coachman. He sheepishly rounds the corner, flicks his eyes over the dead, and advances with the best semblance of calm that he can muster.
"Underground coach of the Last One Inn at your service... I'm Urovok, the proprietor and coachman. The best subterranean hotel between here and Ques Querax, with coach service to parts surrounding and below. These... former customers of mine... they hadn't paid their fare yet. I really ought to start collecting before the ride, but it's funny, folk don't trust you if you demand payment up front."
As he moves into the light, you see a fiendish and twisted form--slanted goblin eyes, disproportionately tiny legs, and, most remarkably, claws where his hands should be. He wears a bowler hat and a long cabman's coat.
"I can take care of those bodies for you, if you want. Feed 'em to my livestock. Got pigs."
Anzath whirls her dark and light blades in quick circles, smiling menacingly as she gets a feel for their balance. Then she dons Vael’s Serenrean breastplate. Not as comfortable as she’d like, but, well, she feels a bit safer in it. Beholding her mithral chain for a moment, being a gift from her adopted father, she glances over at the wolf who helped save her life. She walks over to the canine, gets to a knee and scratches her behind the ears (if she lets her, of course). She holds the chain shirt up to Mone for a size comparison, “Vhat you say, doggo? Fitz nicely, yez?”
Then she glances up to Adelie as if noticing him for the first time. She stands and extend a hand, “Velkome komrade, I am Anzath.”
Anzath scoops up Yaza’s ashes into a pouch and eyes the cab driver as he approaches.
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Anzath knows that Ques Querax is the city on the border of the Underdark. All that rises through Rappan Athuk from the lower world must first pass through Ques Querax, though there are rumors of other ways... and also, it's impossibly deep.
Mone wags her tail to indicate happiness and acceptance. She pushes her head against Anzath's hand while her ears are being scratched, and when Anzath gets up, Mone bounds after her.
Adelie reaches out to grasp Anzath's hand.
"Adelie. Drusilla said I was too restless, sent me after you. She said you killed spiders for us, and I should help you. Want help?"
He looks down at Mone, who is still standing next to Anzath.
"That's Moneduloides. She'll understand you if you talk to her, but she doesn't always listen."
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Bedlam rummage through his heavily laden pack. The whistling dwarf passes three oil flasks, an unstable accelerate, a torch, flint and steel, and a firecracker.
How bright do we be mak'n it?
The Alchemist grins.
Give me a few minutes ta make sum more blasting jelly.
Aurora considers the fiendish creature, one eye twitching, but musters as much interest as she can into her voice: "Is that so? I don't think we've heard of the Last One Inn, yet. Where is that located, exactly?"
"Perhaps that would be best done outside, away from the dark powers of this place. I'm concerned that it may release her spirit to be... repurposed by Orcus as an incorporeal undead minion."
Urovok scratches his forehead in embarrassment, carefully. "Well, custom ain't what it used to be at the Last One. Used to take all sorts of folk from the Dungeon of Graves to the healers here, but nobody's used this route for a long while, no, not for a long, long ol' time. Except these Orcus fellers. I was happy enough to have these guests, I'll tell ya, unsavory as they may have looked or been. In the hospitality business, an empty bed's an empty belly, so to speak. Speakin' of empty, the Inn's empty at the moment, no chance I could sign you folk up for a special low rate? Carriage ride's on me, seeing as I gotta head back that way anyhow."
"Ques Querak iz gatevay into Underdark," explains Anzath, hesitantly. She seems troubled at the prospect of venturing to the subterranean city, then asks the driver, "Iz more kultistz in Ques Querak?"
"No doubt there are cultists in Querax! Though Orcus don't rule the city-fortress, not unless things have changed, scant news lately. I might've spoke less clearly than I should've--Ques Querax is well beyond my stagecoach's range. I can take people to various abandoned institutions, edifices, and forts. Some scenic points of interest. But I go no farther than the Gates of Gloom of Rappan Athuk, and nobody's been foolish enough to ask for that particular ride in some time, except those few folk what return home through the Gates. And, of course, the Last One Inn. May I? Just want the meat, for m'pigs. Their stuff's yours, naturally."
Urovok starts dragging the acolytes to the door.
"If it takes a wagon ride to get there, then it may take us too far out of our way for now. Incidentally, what was the fare owed you?"
“First dings first.”
Now, Anzath begins assisting Bedlam in the fiery exorcism of Yaza Mongro, dousing her robes in the unstable acceralant.
“Hold on to your buttz,” she warns as she prepares and alchemist’s fire.
Bedlam tosses the coach driver a gold piece.
You be back dis way in 48 hours; and if'n we be need'n a ride, you bet.
Talathel stands watch, in case Yaza has any allies nearby who are taking the opportunity to sneak up on the conversing group.
"— But I do not think we'll be needing a ride," Aurora adds, casting aside a sharp look to Bedlam.
The merry dwarf smiles.
Urovok catches the coin and sighs. "Well, I guess I'll ramble on back in a couple days, then. But I charge a bit more than a geep for my unique services. If I'm not here after the morrow, somebody is staying at the inn and I'm busy, or somebody has hired a ride properly."
He strips the three corpses of the acolytes and leaves their effects (nicely folded). The strange figure then sweeps the corpses onto his shoulders, displaying an all-but-unnatural strength.
"Till then, then. Take care out there, travelers. Oh! There's a bell! At the end of the stable. The echoes carry pretty far, not like they used to, what with the deterioration of the tunnels, but if any of you all ever need a lift, can't hurt to try ringing me up. Again, I may be busy. Who knows."
If nobody stops Urovok, you hear hooves clattering into the distant depths.
FWOOOOM goes Yaza Mongro. Unstable accelerants notwithstanding, it'll take a while, especially considering the air quality: impossibly smoky, airless, and barbecue-flavored.
If you decide to follow Tragershen's plan, you wander up to the top layer of the dungeon and find a room like, say, 22. You point out the Temple of Gambling to Adelie and tell her the story of the dead bandit lad. Sliding open the secret door, you tumble in--there's the one cot, and just enough room for everyone to lie down, though it isn't roomy. A ventilation shaft (naturally) was cut into the room to serve whoever built this hidey-hole.
During this time, the pestilential members of the party make a save:
...they all lose a hit point, unless one of you has been treated beforehand.
Tragershen shudders when he realizes that there's no way he could rest uninterrupted with these horrid itchy pustules. Aurora realizes the same. Bedlam has probably spent itchy nights before, but this is especially bad. And Talathel doubts he could rest easy while sick like this...
After a while of trying to rest, Tragershen sits up.
"This is no good. I cannot get to a state of restfulness with this itching. I think we should head back down and see if we can find anything to help us get past this lingering malaise."
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Anzath joyfully sings an old song over Yaza's burning corpse. She'll collect the ashes when ready.
She sleeps fine.
"Vhat iz all diz moaning about now? You all sound like zombie babiez."
Adelie examines the ill party members.
"I can remove that disease from one of you. I also know a bit about healing, but I'm not familiar with this particular disease."
"If you could restore one of us, I'd suggest our lady Aurora. If she can reach out to our lord Nethys or his divine intermediaries, she may in turn be able to help the rest of us."
Bedlam abzently scratches.
Be reminding meself of me second cousin's bar--mits--fa!