With Bedlam off of his chest, Jack scoots to the wall and leans against it, fingering his wounds gingerly, stuffing scraps of cloth into them... he's not looking very scary, and he left his blade among the orcs.
Bedlam takes out his last potion of Cure light wounds.
Talathel gathers himself, also blinking at the sight of the fate of the dwarf.
A slender 6' 1" in height, Talathel has much darker pupils than most of his people. A cool, aloof gaze peers out at the world from below his flowing golden hair and pale skin. On his chest, a fine suit of elven chainmail. In his hands is a branched spear held lightly, and on his back a curveblade and longbow are clearly visible, along with miscellaneous equipment.
He turns to the elf and speaks common in a low, soft voice:
"I am Talathel Rhuiren of Kyonin. I seek perfection in my understanding of weaponry and martial lore. I believed Rappan Athuk would be the best place to prove the results of my dedication, but fell afoul of a pit trap. I have been wandering the winding passage behind me for some time now, and I am glad to be free of it. I surmise that your group wish to tackle this place. If so, I would add my skill to yours. If not, then I will make my own way here."
He ceases speaking, clearly awaiting a response from the group.
Spitting out blood onto the orcs, the wrecked dwarf turns his gaze to the new elf.
You be hav'n rope? Start by tying up dat bandit dere.
Brand watches with bewilderment as the magical dwarves appear then disappear, taking the absent-minded Joden with them. He briefly eyes the bandit leader cautiously before turning to his now-conscious new friend, Bedlam. "Ah master giant dwarf, seems deir's only meant to be one dwarf in dis 'ere company - glad to 'ave ye on yer feet again. I 'ope ye enjoyed de flavor of me elixir - twas a gift from a lovely lass I knew oh so long ago... may the vitality pump trough yer veins always!"
Turning to the newly arrived elf, "An' a mighty speech lad. If'n ye mean to offer us aid, den we'll surely 'ave it. Just 'ad a dwarf up an' disappear, after all! Guessin' ye be quite skilled at stickin' the pointy end o' dat into yer foes?" He offers a gesture toward the spear.
"If your falling afoul of the pit trap hasn't dissuaded you from braving the depths of this place, I would say you are welcome to join us. Some of our fellows seem quite adept at spotting traps of that ilk, and we could use more skilled warriors."
Jack's ears prick up. "Pit traps? I know a few, I'll show 'em to you if you let me go. Four traps for freedom sound fair?"
Assuming Jack gets tied up, Bedlam begins looting the bandits.
We be need'n more cure potions. We could head back to town; turn him in, and git sum potions?
With a thin smile, Talathel replies:
"I most certainly do have rope, and would happily tie up this brigand. Exchanging this one for healing potions sounds most wise. And I am well skilled with weapons, particularly those of elven craft."
Tying up the bandit, Talathel turns to the others.
"Shall we be off then?"
Jack, now tied, tries to convince you to change your plans: "Aww hecks, you're nuts to go back through those woods! That's a two days march through constant danger! I don't want to be eaten by wolves with my hands tied behind my back! Take my advice: stay here, it's a good hideout. Block the doors from the inside. Rest and heal up, I'll show you the traps, and you'll let me go."
Brand looks at the scimitar quizzically. "Can't be leavin' sometin' dis nice on de floor. Supposin' i'll carry it for now, p'rhaps we can trade it wit date lady outside. Lessin' Lolly or Tal wants it?"
Brand walks over to the sarcophagus and begins to peer about it's edges and seems looking for any traps.
Brand sees that the sarcophagus is very, very old. Maybe a little big for just one person. As far as he can tell, it's not trapped. There's writing in a language he doesn't know across the sides.
ආලෝක හමුදාවේ ගෞරවනීය සොල්දාදුවන් මෙහි සිටී. ඔවුන්ගේ ඇටකටු සමාදානයෙන් සැතපේ.
Under that, there's some faded, ancient scrawl that he would have missed had he not done a pretty thorough search:
έθαψαν τους ανόητους ζωντανούς, όρκο επαίνους
Ignoring the bandit's pleas, Talathel walks over to the sarcophagus then reads aloud the first batch of text:
"It is written in celestial. It reads: 'Here lie honored soldiers of the army of light. May their bones rest in peace.'. I cannot read the scrawl underneath."
Tragershen stows his whip and acid flask. He looks over their captive and smiles, pleased at the fine job the elf warrior did binding him.
When Brand points out the script on the sarcophagus, Tragershen peers closely at it. At the first line, he says "Celestial, the tongue of goodly creatures. It says 'Here lie honored soldiers of the army of light. May their bones rest in peace.'"
He is prepared to step away when Brand calls attention to the fainter script. Tragershen crouches to get a closer look. "You have sharp eyes indeed, my friend. This scrawl is one of the tongues of the lower planes, spoken by the foulest beings encountered. It reads 'Buried the fools alive, praise Orcus.'" With that he stands.
"I'm not sure what that added line means for us. If minions of Orcus were here following the interment, the lid may be trapped. I think we should investigate its contents, but we very wary moving it."
Tragershen moves away, busying himself with checking the fallen zombies, bandits and orcs for anything of value. If he does come across anything, he'll keep it separate from his own possessions for later division.
If the others act like they are going to open the sarcophagus, Tragershen will stand back and watch the process with great interest.
Whoops, was going to make it Abyssal before I remembered that Orcus likely speaks Infernal at home.
The Nethysian considers Jack's words thoughtfully, even as she offers a response to her own allies...
"We have only just arrived here, after two days of trek through the woods. I would like to avoid returning to town so quickly when I've the magic to heal you." Aurora shrugs. "It is possible Elma and her group outside may have some spare potions they would be willing to part with for coin, but it would likely be at a mark-up for the trouble and danger they are in for just being here." Not to mention for the coin Elma needs...
Drifting closer to the sarcophagus after Brand has checked it for traps, Aurora will cast some good old-fashioned Detect Magic on it.
No magic on the box.
Your hunch is that Jack's not quite trustworthy. Shifty eyes.
As the melee ends, Lolygert leans over an rests his hands on his knees, breathing hard as the exhaustion of his rage overcomes him.
Out of the corner of his eye, he's glad to see the others tending to Bedlam.
After a few moments, he's able to straighten only to be surprised by the arrival of the golden dwarves and Joden's subsequent departure.
"Strange place..." he comments, before offering to the new comer, "Welcome! If you're a fighter and a devler, I think you're in the right place!"
The keen halfling eyes that spotted the ancient daggered-in graffiti are also pretty sure there's no trap on this particular sarcophagus.
Bedlam stretches.
Me own fault fer not writing dat one down. A foolish dwarf would be thanking yee, Aurora.
"My thanks for the welcome. And it appears we do not need to cross the ferry again so urgently. Shall we make for the camp? "
"My thanks for the welcome. And it appears we do not need to cross the ferry again so urgently. Shall we make for the camp? "
"Before we do so, shall we open this sarcophagus and see if there is anything inside that will help us on our mission? Perhaps some trinket or bit of lore about what lies ahead?"
After further healing, Bedlam will assist with examining the sarcophagus.
Talathel considers Tragershen's words.
"That is a reasonable possibility. Let us do so once the trapfinders are satisfied."
Talathel places his spear on the ground next to the sarcophagus but within easy reach should he require it. And then he makes himself ready to help open the sarcophagus when the others are.
Bedlam and Talathel get to work on the lid--after fidgeting with it for a few minutes to find good handholds, they gradually slide the heavy stone from the bottom compartment.
As the light from Lolly's breastplate and the Scimitsar falls into the cavity, it reveals a mishmash of humanoid bone fragments, all of which have been smashed and gnawed to splinters. And something a little less bony... a human figure, incredibly emaciated... it turns its pitiful, empty eyes towards the party and groans "මම එතරම් බඩගිනුයි හිටියේ. මම තවමත් බඩගිනි."
"That doesn't sound good."
Tragershen levels his wand at it, discharging a narrow beam of positive energy.
Disrupt undead
To hit
Damage
In a series of smooth motions, Talathel snatches his spear, steps back from the sarcophagus, and strikes at the humanoid figure, speaking as he does do.
"It hungers. Whatever it once was, we must slay it."
Though he misses at first, he stands ready to keep striking should the creature begin moving towards him or those near him. He also tries to work out what manner of presumably undead they face.
Quarterstaff in-hand, Aurora frowns at the undead creature—that it was capable of speech was... concerning. Yet whatever it once was, it would be a mercy to put it down and lay it back to rest. She brings the end of the quarterstaff crashing down into the sarcophagus.
As Tragershen's magic saps the ghoul's power, and Aurora's quarterstaff caves in its skull, they think they can hear a soft voice whispering "ඔබට ස්තුතියි"
The Alchemist stands staring at the quick disbatching of the undead thingy.
Well, me suppose'n dat it just wanted out?
"It would certainly appear so. Let us proceed, now that the deed is accomplished."
"මෙම ස්ථානයේ අඳුරු බරෙන් තොරව ඔබේ දේහයන් දැන් නිශ්චල වේ."
Tragershen examines the interior of the sarcophagus, looking for anything that might be useful to them. Does he see anything on the inside that looks like it might eventually reanimate the contents that we need to deal with?
When we are sure we aren't leaving behind anything of value from the undead room or the bandits' room, we'll head back out to the campsite with our prisoner.
Tragershen's impulse to search the sarcophagus likely inspires the ever-curious Brand and Bedlam to take a look?
Tragershen peers into the sarcophagus and sees no other intact figures.
Brand rustles the bones themselves... he finds many indications of cannibalism, but little of value--torn scraps of long-rotten blue and white silks.
But Bedlam, turning to the ghoul himself, finds a ring on his finger. It looks very fine indeed, ancient, pure gold.
Bedlam bites the ring. The dwarf holds it up for the elf.
-You be seeing any magicks?
Tragershen examines the ring with both a critical eye and a quick cantrip.
Tragershen finds a faint conjuration aura radiating from the ring. He knows it is valuable, but not how valuable it might be.
Tragershen's keen intelligence probes the object, studying its aura, seeking further hints of its nature...
All of a sudden, he realizes something truly awful: the ring is a command-word-activated ring of Air Bubble. Its command word, faintly visible in Abyssal: "Praise Orcus." The evil priests buried these men alive with a source of air that had to be renewed every minute by praising the dark god... and no food. They must have passed the ring back and forth, each time praising Orcus, then holding their breath and waiting for their turn with the ring again... all while growing hungrier and hungrier... more and more tired... until they finally went mad, or died. A horror intense enough to drive the last survivor of these lost souls into Ghouldom as he praised Orcus while devouring his fellows. Until they were gone, and he starved to death. Tragershen catches a glimpse of unspeakable evil.
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Tragershen hands the ring back to Bedlam. "It does indeed have an enchantment to it, and the command phrase to activate it is 'έπαινος orcus', which is 'praise Orcus' in the language of the lower planes. It is useful in its way, but it was devised as a implement of torture."
He pauses a moment, taking a deep breath before continuing. "The priests of Orcus locked these men down here with no food. And no air, save this ring. It creates a hollow of fresh air around the wearer's head that lasts for just one minute. I had a vision of those poor men, passing the ring from one to the other, holding their breath or suffocating until it was their turn again. Do you dare imagine what that was like? Starving, unable to sleep, slowing suffocating only to get relief, and then suffocating again." Tragershen shakes his head. "The last of them just went mad. Devouring the others, and when that sustenance ran out, starving under the weight of the guilt."
He looks at the others, one by one. "This is the kind of cruelty we can expect to encounter as we continue. This is the kind of horror we could be subjected to if we are captured. This" he says, with a strong emphasis "is what we are here to stop."
After a pause for them to take in all he has said. Then he quietly adds "I suggest we keep it. Redeem it. Use it against its cruel creators. One of us that seeks out traps may want to wear it, in case you stumble into a trap that deprives you of air. It will protect you until we can get you liberated."
Talathel listens without apparent emotion at Tragershen's explanation, then speaks after a moment to further digest the horrific tale.
"If this is among the least evils in this place, we must be both vigilant, and strong of heart. I was committed entering this place. This scene of torment gives clarity to commitment. One of our trap-finders should indeed wear the ring. We will do everything we can to make sure that they will not need to use it."
A look crosses Aurora's face as Tragershen explains the ring's history, disgust welling up within her, before she turns her gaze to the sarcophagus and the damaged remains within. "They deserve rites and a proper burial. To have to endure such horrors is... unthinkable."
Bedlam digest the information concerning the ring.
Ever the pragmatist, the dwarf turns the ring over to Brand.
It be useful still.
When the strange little creature appeared inside the sarcophagus, Lolygert reached for his sword, but the other three beat him to the punch, "Hmmm, yer fast! " he commented.
He then watched as the search of the sarchophagus yielded the shiny gold ring.
After hearing the dread tale of the ring's history, he shakes his head, "If that's a taste of what to expect in this place... it deserves a good cleaning! As my Ma would say! HA! " he jokes, seeking to lighten the mood somewhat.
Brand stares blankly at the tattered bones within the sarcophagus as Tragershen describes the nature of the ring and the horrors it was used to carry out on innocent souls. When the discussion turns to using it, saving it as a tool, his jaw slowly drops.
Finally, when Bedlam tries to push the cursed ring into his hand, Brand quickly pulls back his palms and recoils from the dwarf. "Keep dat blasted ring 'way from me, for I'll not 'ave ye be damnin' my soul to de horrid lord o' de dead!"
It is quite clear that Brand wants nothing to do with the ring...
The dwarf shrugs his shoulder and puts on the ring.
Before the group moves off, Talathel speaks up.
"We should arrange a marching order. With spear and longbow, I can fight from any position required. I would default to the rearguard if there is no preference."
If the party backtracks directly down the paths they've already explored, they return to the mouth of the cave without any further issues.
As the party moves past the shallow grave of the Corporal, Elma Bourse, Sarge, and the Private call down to them from above the stone demon's head that is also the gateway to the dungeon. They are hard at work building a small semi-fortified camp up there, taking advantage of the unscalable cliff face (heh a cliff face, and it's a face!) so that at least one side of camp won't have to be guarded that night. There are clean wolfskins drying out, they'll make great blankets by nightfall.
It's a good plan, and with the Private limbing timbers and Elma and Sarge carrying them up the cliff face, they've made some progress on a nice little palisade up there.
They' surprised to see everyone so soon. Also surprised to see everyone so battered.
"What happened?" Elma asks...
...and somehow, she believes your tales about Joden's disappearance and Talathel's presence in the dungeon. Her merchant's acumen sees through any lies you tell fairly quickly. She will find ways to hear about any treasure you've found, greedily demands to see the ring, and...
...she giggles with glee. "I know a demonologist in Riddleport who will pay top coin for that, and what a great story to go with it! Things are looking up around here!"
Talathel introduces himself to the camp dwellers and offers his assistance in organising the defenses.
To the group, he simply says:
"The defenses seem appropriate. I already meditated earlier this morning. Beyond that, I am willing to take watch or do other tasks as necessary."