Garver nods to Alrathien, "Excellent, I think we can all agree on that price. I'll arrange it with the guards."
The painter says nonchalantly, "A cleric of Groetus once told me that the cult was going to need to remove the documents from the guild eventually to prevent anyone from finding them. What was his name? Falirio? Delerious? Ah, right then, Dalirio."
His mannerism suddenly changes without reason and he grins broadly. His thoughts are not directly connected to any question asked and he begins, "The end IS nigh!" he giggles excitedly. "Why, in the Crypt of Fools of course! The master lives there. Yes! You must know. I don't know its exact location, but you must, you must! Of course, master told me the Hall of Wonders might know, the engineers might know yes! From my other paintings, indeed, indeed! Blueprints of everything, anything! All Taldor built in Cassomir, and the Crypt of Fools was built by Taldor, you know, to bury the shameful families. Dalirio told me, yes! Dalirio said we would need to destroy those blueprints some day. Yes, yes! You'll destroy them, won't you?" The painter flashes a crazed, expectant grin at Alrathien.
He shrugs, losing interest in the conversation and picks up a fresh canvas and begins to stare at it lost in thought.
Garver watches the exchange and adds, "Uhh, on second thought I'm not sure that price was fair. We don't want to be giving away valued commodities. Perhaps we should be looking at 5GP for the lot instead then? They seem quite valuable afterall."
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Alrathien eyed Garver shrewdly as they exited the cell. "So, Garver, who doesn't work here, thinks the crazy man's paintings of blue devils tormenting folk are suddenly worth something other than chamberpot wipings? Keep them then. Alrathien has no interest in decorating the Pathfinder lodge at those kind of prices."
Speaking to the others, he said "Alrathien would suggest that we keep friend Jeffrey far from future endeavors requiring mathematics. We do not need him hurting his mind on such computations."
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"Huh, what?" Jeffrey asks surprised and turns his big smile toward Alrathien. "You offered two gold pieces for the big paintings and five for the abstracts! That makes seven, doesn't it? And that's more than five, isn't it?"
Jeffrey's quiet for a moment, then adds, "If you threw other numbers in there and I didn't catch those, maybe you shouldn't talk so much that your words mix."
He then heartily pats Alrathien's shoulder while laughing. "Hahaha! Ah well, who cares!"
From inside the cell the crazed man shouts excitedly without actually looking back at you. ”Nobody knows!”
"Nobody except the engineers! The engineers from the guild – the Hall of Wonders – they have blueprints of everything in Cassomir."
The mad man slows down in a brief moment of lucidity, ”Darlio said he was going to take them from the engineers. He said they know too much. But he, but he never returned.”
Garver leans in and asks, "Right then, shall I escort you bunch off to the Hall of Wonders now?"
The journey to the Hall of Wonders is quick and without incident. Smoke and steam pour through many openings of this misshapen building. Gears and gizmos can be heard clicking against one another in a rhythmic cadence. A loud *chunkchunk* sounds as several pistons churn up and down, powering some unknown machine. A cacophonous symphony of grinding metal plays on. An enormous sign, nearly the entire width of the building, declares it to be the Hall of Wonders.
Once he gets you to the location, Garver bids you farewell and heads off.
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Alrathien chatted with his companions as they made their way over to the Hall of Wonders. He was curious about the engineers guild, having never had reason to step inside the place before. His first thought was magnificient. All immediately following thoughts were variations on the theme of loud. finding this humorous, he tried explaining this to Kimiya, but the nagaji paladin was apparently using the din as an excuse not to listen to him. Shrugging his shoulders, Arithon brushed a near invisible speck of dust from his robes and followed the others in.
As Jeffrey approaches the door and yanks it open. As he does so smoke a misty vapor begins billowing out that obscures all sight. Fumbling his way into the fog, he moves into the building.
Jeffrey can see the outlines of three great structures piercing a thick mist that chokes nearly the entire western half of the building. The noise is deafening in the room, from the whirling of gears. A brass planetarium rotates in the northeastern corner. Next to the celestial model, a clockwork contraption ticks and tocks as it turns on its axis. Finally, a giant metal crab sits with its claws extended on a southwestern platform. A hatch at one end of the crab provides an entrance into a barrel-like chamber; inside two levers rest near the front of a cockpit.
As Jeffrey pops clear of the mist in the building, he sees a trio of halforcs with clubs, beating up what appears to be a female gnome engineer on the floor next to an open platform.
10' overhead of the group you see a female in armor, that looks vaguely familiar... reminding you of one of the priestesses on the ship you raided several months ago on the docks. Between the noise and mist, they do not seem to have noticed you yet.
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Velen quietly pads along behind his companions, calmly watching the fog billow out of the door. The edge of his mouth quirks up, he draws his short swords, and slips into the fog like it's an old lover, vanishing completely. Carefully maneuvering around his companions, he slides up toward the entrance, flanking Jeffery and trying to assess the situation.
Jeffrey moves up around the corner in an attempt to bash the half-orc threatening the gnome. As he turns the corner though, he is met with a cultist waiting by as a cultist spins and swings a club towards his face. Jeffrey raises his shield just in time to thwart the blow, but is thrown off from the attack that his counter-attack misses as well.
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"Excuse me, pardon, yes that's right, budge over. Ah thank you. In times like these, Alrathien is reminded of the need for everyone to carry libations both tasteful and plentiful. Yes, the air in here is quite enough to make Alrathien thirsty, and the company! Well, if friend Jeffrey is intending on engaging in the physical contest, then Alrathien shall endeavor to assist however he best can."
Both the half-orc and the gnome slip and fall to the greasy surface below.
Jeffrey moves up and exchanges misses with the closest target. Velen crawls into the machinery, intending to activate it and make an attack next round. Kimiya moves around the rear intending to flank while Alrathien makes things a little more slippery with greese. Watkins and Grethe both make their way to the upper levels. The half-orc in the grease attempts to stand but as he gets to his feet he puts too much weight on his front heel and slips on his rear end once more.
The creature on top of the catwalk sees the party emerge and frowns. "Be gone! This is no bossiness of yours!"
She begins to cast a spell in her frustration.
A claw shoots out from the machine and litterally cuts the half-orc laying in the grease in half. The claws squeezes straight through the creature in under a second, gore and blood bursting everywhere.
Jeffrey's assault slams into the half-orc and rips a huge gash across his chest. The half-orc howls in protest but still stands and prepares his retaliation. "You'll pay for that hooman!"
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Grethe looks up the ladder to Watkins standing right at the top.
"Wot?!? Watkins! Did anyone tell you that you have a big ass?"
Grethe speeds his way up the ladder and works his way past Watkins.
Grethe, huffing and puffing from the climb, catches his breathe and yells out "Foooooook, why didn't anyone tell me MY ass was so big! HA HA HA ". His laugh is cut short as he makes eye contact with the creature on the catwalk.
Accelerated climb, move
The female cleric on the catwalk seems extremely unhappy to see Grethe and Watkins. In a fit of rage she screams . She rushes forward with a heavy flail twirling in her hand and whips the weapon so hard that the sounds of his ribs cracking can be heard down below. Grethe's body hits the catwalk with a clang as his blood begins to seep from his body down onto the machine below where Velen is seated.
Init: Watkins, Velen, Jeffrey, C-O, Alrathien, Kimiya, Grethe, C-P
The fire arrow from Watkin's bow strikes the cleric in the neck, piercing her carotid artery. Blood begins to spill from her body, spraying the catwalk and those below with it. She staggers back towards the railing to catch her balance. She raises a hand to stop the bleeding only to have another arrow strike her in the chest which causes her to lose her balance and fall backwards over the railing. A sickening crunch of flesh and bone can be heard between screams as tumbles down into the machinery above Velen, getting caught in the large gears. The machine grinds to a halt, as various organs and body parts fall to the ground around him.
Jeffrey makes quick work of the last remaining half-orc, ending the encounter.
The greased gnome peers up from the ground and mutters, "Is it safe?"