"If your pack is getting too heavy, there is a bit of room in mine. I do agree, given what we've encountered, it makes sense to take what we can use, though we shouldn't overburden ourselves. "
"I can carry some, but even as nice as those shirts are, they won't protect as well as what I'm already wearing."
"I think it makes the most sense for me to remain light on my feet. I am a cleric, after all. Perhaps we should leave one behind?"
"I have room in my pack for one of the chain shirts, selling it may come in handy when we need supplies later on." Handing the scrolls to Meriui, Ronan says "I think you maybe able to make good use of these scrolls."
He looks at the scrolls and back to Ronan. "I might be able to use them later, but right now they are beyond me. Rowena is most likely to be able to use them any time soon."
Rowena looks at the scrolls. "I believe I can use the scroll. And I suppose I'll take a shirt for good measure too. You can never know what we might face down here."
With the corpses looted, the group leaves the two glaives and continues on at the enthusiastic urging of the mongrels. You all continue for around fifteen minutes before reaching a circular, 20' diamater cavern. Four mongrelmen stand guard here before a large stone door.
"Crell! Lann! Dyra!" calls one, rushing over to them and embracing Dyra in a big hug. He lets go and steps back quickly, eyeing the party. "You have surfacers with you?"
Lann holds up a hand. "They saved Crell from certain death and have news of disaster on the surface. Please, trust me."
The guards grumble, and step to the side to allow you through the doors to the mongrelman city of Neathholm.
Sarkast graciously accepts the hospitality of the mongrels, and offers his services as a weaponsmith, making minor repairs to any weapons they and the party have. He also offers to sharpen bladed weapons with his whetstone.
In the evening, he spends some time in prayer, and makes no attempt to hide his actions or his patron, though any who are not familiar with Kellid traditions may have trouble recognizing their take on Desna.
The ten of you step into Neathholm. A small, dark lake ripples in the centre of this two-hundred-foot-wide cavern, the walls and ceiling aglow with thick sheets of luminescent fungi. In the centre of the lake, over two dozen low stone buildings cluster on a rocky one-hundred-foot-wide island.
Lights glow in the windows of the buildings, giving the settlement a charming, welcoming look. Rafts made of mismatches planks of timber bob along the length of a crooked pier at the lake's closest shore.
A guard from the gate keeps with the party, and Lann stays with you as you travel through the buildings. Doors and windows shut immediately as you walk through, and you can see some curious, deformed faces peering out from behind buildings and through nearly closed doors.
You are finally brought to an empty stone home. It is little more than a box, but has been strewn with blankets and has a full basin of water and a pit for a fire with a large hole in the ceiling. Lann leaves, and returns with some smoked fish and mushrooms.
"Chief Sull is asleep right now and will see you after sleeptime. I am certain that you require rest as well. Please eat and rest. You are free to explore Neathholm. We have a storefront for general items that will use your currency."
The following "morning" you are gathered by Lann to meet the Chief of Neathholm. This time no guards are with you, although you can still see doors being barricaded as you walk by. A short walk later you arrive at the largest building atop the island's low central peak.
The interior of the building is strangely decorated, with bizarre abstract painting along the walls accompanied by beautiful, lifelike statues which have been garishly painted as well. A man who resembles nothing more than a bloated rat waddles out of the back and he raises his hand in greeting.
"Lann! You come home, have you news of my son?"
Lann shakes his head sadly.
"No Chief. Only grim tidings from the surface. The demons attacked Kenabres, shattered their wardstone, and sent the great tremors into the earth. These brave surfacers are survivors; they saved Crell's life and have proven themselves."
Chief Sull scowls, his unpleasant features creasing.
"Bad bad bad news. Bad indeed. The traitors will celebrate with their foul alliances." He turns to the group. "Forgive my rudeness. My son is the first matter on my mind, as I am sure you can understand. Have you by chance seen a mongel, feathered like bird and adorned with ridiculous jewelery? Either way - please, tell me of your situation."
"I am sorry Chieftain, but we saw no such person on our travels here. I assure you that as we continue on to the surface, we will keep our eyes open for him. Speaking of which, do you know the way to the surface above? We would like to return to Kenabres and help with the recovery, or the defense, depending on what we find. With the demon incursion, I fear what we will find there."
"Ridiculous jewellery?" Thora asks. One can almost see the gears in her head spinning. She drops her pack on the ground and starts rifling through it like a woman possessed. A few moments later, she produces a copper brooch shaped like a bat. "Like this?"
She dives back into the pack and reemerges with a knotted gold ring and a six inch tall statuette of a humanoid with a spear.
"I'm not sure this is jewellery," she says, indicating the statuette, "but I don't rightly understand fashion sometimes. At any rate, the statuette would be much more ridiculous as jewellery than the ring. I quite like the ring, to be honest."
Rowena feigns sympathy. "I am sorry about your son...When did you last see him?" Perhaps the group could retrace his steps and find whoever had desecrated those bodies in the cave.
Sull's eyes go wide as he sees the brooch, and he snatches it from Thora's hand.
"This was his! Oh thank you!" Sull smiles sadly. "You didn't find it on a body did you?!"
Anevia shakes her head at him, and he lets out a sigh of relief.
"He is self-sufficient. I thank you for your offer but I will send my own people who know the tunnels best; you want to get to the surface. But it is good to see this and I know you are good people."
Sull lets out a long rattling sigh and looks to Ayesha.
"The fastest route to the surface is to the south - any other passages will take you many days. But a smaller tribe of traitors," he spits out the last word. "Have taken up residence there. They do business with cultists from the surface. If you promise to destroy these evil traitors, I will give you magical aid as well."
Sarkast looks up at the mention of cultists. "What sort of cultists do you refer to? Demon-worshippers?"
Sull makes a weird gurgling noise, staring at the party through his one good eye.
"I have ignored them in the past, but with the attack up top it is too much for me to bear. These cultists worship a demon, yes. A minotaur they call Baphomet. I do not know more than that. I think the traitors let them use the tunnels in exchange for supplies."
A floppy, pointed ear bounces a little bit as he speaks.
"I cannot spare you soldiers for the fight now due to the damage and missing people we must find, but should you handle the traitors I will pledge Neathholm to your fight against the demons. These times are dire, and this may be our chance to see the sun again."
Horgus, who has remained quiet and suspicious, lets out an audible groan while Anevia cheers.
"Who are these traitors you speak of? What did they betray?"
"I can not speak for everyone, Jinxx and I are willing to help clear out these traitors you speak of. We all have worked fairly well together so far and if it means getting to the surface quicker all the better. I have a bad feeling we will not like what we see when we get there though."
Sull lets out a blubbering sigh. "There was a power struggle; the traitors were convinced that we should conduct raids on the surface to kidnap goods and slaves. I have been chief of Neathholm for many years and we have always survived by being orderly and not making enemies! They chose their own Chief, a foul creature named Zill and attempted a coup. It failed, and they fled to occupy tunnels nearest the surface. I now hear that Zill is dead and they have sworn allegiance to one of these cultists. In your battle against demons, they have chosen their side and it is not yours."
"Then it appears that we shall have to deal with them on our way out. If they are truly allied with the demons, then they are a threat that must be removed. We appreciate your advice and offer of assistance. What magical aid did you have available?"
"I can appreciate your desire to wreak havoc on these separatists, and these cultists. I think that cleansing them of their evil ways would not be out of line. And, I imagine that the citizens of Kenabres, or at least the leaders, would be happy to have someone to aid them in their fights against the demon hordes."
Sull stands up and hurries into another room, waddling as he goes. A loud clank is heard, and he returns carrying a leather bag and a large, brutal-looking morningstar.
"This is Boulder, my own morningstar. It last saw blood during the coup and I am too old and fat to make use of it now. It is enchanted and I hope one of you shall make use of it." He then sets down the leather bag and opens it up. It is brimming with potions. "Nine curing potions, and four potions of restoration. Take these with my blessing."
"I won't be needing those potions, seeing that I have these..." Rowena gestures to her cure wands. "These traitors, who ever they are, must be eliminated. How dare they side with demons!" She looks at the ground with disgust.
"Thank you Sull for your generous gifts." Ronan looks to the others and says "I think the best is to divide up the potion between those who need them. Also I could make use of Boulder unless one of our more up close and personal fighters would like it."
"Yes, thank you. This is a very generous gift. You have my word that I, for one, will do everything I can to rid these caves of any demon-allies, and to speak on your behalf to the people above."
Sarkast bows, and takes two of the cure potions and one of the restorations potions, adding them to his pack.
He checks his pack and prepares for the day's travel.
Chief Sull bids farewell. You are now free to stay in Neathholm for as long as you need, although there is a lot of urgency amongst Anevia, Aravashnial, and Horgus to leave as quickly as possible. There is a store in Neathholm for you to sell any goods you may have or to buy further supplies.
Ronan casts detect magic on the knotted gold ring and the unidentified potion.
The group gets together in a hut and empties Thora pack to sort through everything.
The knotted gold ring is not magical.
The clear potion shows faint illusion magic, and is identified as a potion of invisibility.
The grey cloak shows faint abjuration magic, and is identified as a cloak of lesser resistance +1.
Rowena looks at the gold ring. "I'll take that ring if no one wants it...might fetch a pretty coin later on."
"Why don't we just sell all this crap now and split the gold? Why wait for spring? We could buy something we really want," Thora says Rowena. "Except for the cloak, I mean. I'd like to wear that. I think it brings out the danger in my eyes."
The unnamed general store in Neathholm is manned by a strange mongrel who is covered in porcupine-like quills. Her glowing green eyes make her all the eerier. However, she is friendly enough and very excited to deal with surfacers - a marked change from the fear and suspicion you were greeted with.
"Welcome! I hear you guys have done some great work down here and saved Crell - and that's just great. Let me know what you need. We scavenge a lot down here so I may have something up your alley."
"Would you happen to have any banded mail?" Thora asks her and offers her brightest smile. She even bats her eyelashes though she appears to be uncomfortable and unpracticed with flirting.
The quill-covered mongrel looks up from tallying the total cost of the groups' sales.
"Think I do... one moment." She walks over to a pile of armour and groans, heaving aside what looks like a suit of half-plate and revealing a suit of banded mail. She bangs it a couple of times, and nods once.
"Gently used. Two hundred and fifty of your gold."
After confirming that the chain shirt the group found fits him well enough, Sarkast takes his old hides to the shop. "Would anyone here have use of these? They were made by my uncle, from beasts slain by our tribe. They have served me well, and have life still in them."
He looks around the shop, browsing the wares.
The porcupine-lady smiles and nods enthusiastically.
"I've heard rumour that we are preparing for war, and those will easily be made to fit some of our population with uh - stranger shapes. That said if you're interested in the exotic... I have a few things!"
To the shop keep Ronan inquires "Do you have any wands or scrolls, I do have this lightly used morningstar that i would like to trade and I do have a bit of gold."
Rowena rummages through her various cloack pockets and finds the gold ring. She holds out the gold ring and gruffly asks the shop keep "I have this ring, relatively useless. How much will it sell for?" She overhears Ronan's request. "Yes, I am interested in wands and scrolls as well..."
The hedgehog flips the ring onto the large pile of gear being sold by the group.
"I was told you folks were splitting up the proceeds from all of this. That ring is worth ahh.." she stares at it. "I'll buy it for seventy-four gold, five silver. But again, bulk sale."
She looks over at Ronan and rummages behind a counter before producing a scroll case. She knocks out a few scrolls.
"No wands, sorry. I've got a few scrolls. Twenty-five gold each. I have... silent image, enlarge person, sleep, and a divine scroll - bless."
Sarkast sell the shop his old hides, but otherwise does not see anything that he feels he needs.
Thora pouts.
"I'm a little short," she tells the porcupine woman. "I am but a poor dwarf. If I survive to raise that kind of money, I'll be back for the armor." Then she turns to Rowena.
"Funny, isn't it, that if I want to buy something that will keep me alive, I have to put my life at risk. If I had the mail, I'd be more likely to survive whatever else this place has in store for us. But I can't get the mail until I get the money." Thora shoots a glance at the merchant to see if she's getting through.
The store-keeper sighs and plucks out a quill before tossing it on the floor.
"Wonderful sob story, but you're bringing me a lot of trade. Tell you what - trade in that scale mail you're wearing and I'll drop the price to two hundred. No lower."
"Too rich for my blood," Thora declares sadly. "I'll pass. It was worth a try though, wasn't it?" She smiles brightly at the storekeeper.
The store keeper smiles back and hands a bag of gold over to the group to divide up.
Part 2, Lair of the Vile and Vicious
The group finally meet back up with Horgus, Aravashnial, and Anevia. Horgus has been hiding in the hut provided to him by the mongrels and is extremely relieved to get going. Lann meets up with the group and leads them to an exit, giving them directions through the tunnels to the lair of the traitors.
From the hamlet of Neathholm the tunnel winds mostly in a southeast direction for around half an hour. The tunnel narrows at this point to a 5-foot wide passageway, the walls carved here with picks and chisels. Meriui leads the group, the light sources a little behind him so as not to announce the party's presence unnecessarily.
Sarkast shields the light as the group approaches; voices can be heard up ahead as the tunnel open up.
Sarkast listens intently to the sounds, trying to make out details.
The group remains quiet and listens. Sarkast can hear bored muttering in what he now identifies as the language of the mongrelmen. Two people are speaking. After a bit, the voices die out and you hear some movement though nothing comes out of the darkness.
Shield up, blocking the passage to provide as much protection as possible, Meriui looks back to the others and shrugs, pointing towards the narrow passage and back at the group with a questioning look on his face.
Ronan and Jinxx wait for directions from Meriui
The party freezes for a moment and look to each other. No sound comes from up ahead now.