Dain calls to the spirits of the city's stones to form a ghostly spear. It coalesces above the murky water and stabs down at the creature. He gathers other spirits to form a protective shield.
GM FIAT:
COMBAT OVER
The team defeats the oozing menace and as they are recovering from the fight, hear booted feet approaching. As you get ready to fight, you see a group of three men approaching. One raises his hand in a gesture of peace. "We're sent by Brother Fabitor to help," he says.
You see a tall man wearing an ornate mask and robe of the royal Kem style. Linen wraps scented with aromatic resins around his hands, arms and neck--all of which resemble those used to bury the mummified remains of the ancient pharaohs of Kem.
He made the sign of the Inverted Pyramid and bowed elegantly.
"Master Nekht-Mutf. Honored to meet you. We are sent as reinforcements." He said in a refined accent.
"I am Silas, its good to meet you. This place seems to have many threats. We are pretty sure that we have stirred up the proverbial hornets nest. We are trying to move quickly to stop them from being able to come at us all at once." Silas says in greeting and explanation to those who just arrived.
You all see a fairly portly man, slightly balding with thick mutton slapped on the side of his rotund face. Behind a thick pair of glasses lie piercing blue eyes, analytical in nature and appraising the group. "If there are threats abound, do not let us impede your quickness. The name is Garwrick Quay, pleasure to meet you." he says, preparing to move quickly once introductions were finished.
Tilver wipes some of the gore from his elven blade. He looks up at the masked man. "Fabitor sent you? Good. Otherwise, I would take you for some sort of chaos priest." He takes a second look. "Oh, no, I suppose that's not really a design they would like. Too structured, though I can't place it. An old design, yes?"
He nods to the others. "I'm Tilver. I take it you didn't fight through any ratmen or cultists on your way here? It's been thick with them here." He looks at Silas. "Are you ok? Should we fall back or try to keep exploring for now?"
"The initial strike hurt, but beyond that small wound I am fine. We should move on as quickly as possible for now." Silas says as he prepares to continue on through the labyrinth of tunnels beneath the city.
"...Otherwise, I would take you for some sort of chaos priest." He takes a second look. "Oh, no, I suppose that's not really a design they would like. Too structured, though I can't place it. An old design, yes?"
Nekht nodded gracefully.
"Yes indeed. I wear the regalia of Ancient Kem, fallen long ago. Our people came to Ptolus as refugees, and I wear this clothing as proud remembrance of my noble ancestors."
"Now that we are here, is anything needed? What is the plan?" He asked.
Tilver frowns. "Kem? That is ancient. How long ago did your family arrive in Ptolus?"
The delver moves to the end of the room, searching the wall. "Well, how much did Brother Fabitor tell you? Do you know much about Chaos Cults? Because that's what we're up against."
After the creature stops thrashing and sinks into the ooze, Dain cleans slime off of his spear while sending an empathic signal to Magill that everything is ok. When Fabitor's reinforcements arrive, he greats them and introduces himself.
He watches Tilver tapping on the walls and says, "If there's n-nothing here, we still have the stairway in the...uhhh...colorful room...left to explore."
"I agree, lets go check that out." Silas says and then heads that way to go down.
Garwrick follows behind, drawing his Filchers fork from his sleeve.
"Kem? That is ancient. How long ago did your family arrive in Ptolus?"
Nekht's eyes turned towards Tilver, the face behind the mask betrayed nothing.
"Family legend says that it was after the final war and depopulation of Pharonic Kem."He thought carefully.
"This must have been, hm, almost four thousand years ago. It is difficult to be precise about the numbers; much has been lost to the ebb and flow of time."
"Many Kemish refugees, my family included, spent centuries wandering barbarian infested wilderness before we were accepted by the Empire of Tarsis. My people are talented builders, and we came to the spire to aid in the construction of the Fortress of Dalenguard and settled down. It must have been 60 B.E. or so."
Tilver coughs. "Four thousand years? That's a long time to continue honoring the old ways." He merely nods at Nekht, so you're not sure if that's in criticism or admiration.
Upon reaching the stairs, he tries to peer down them. "So I mentioned, Chaos Cults, yeah? They want to destroy the world, and they think they're on the verge of some ascension." He moves to lead them down the stairs.
Silas chimes in, "We think it has something to do with the rumors of the barbarian horde. Against the walls, the horde would have little chance. But if the cult can damage the walls or open the gate then the city might be in real danger." Silas adds in.
"Well, how much did Brother Fabitor tell you? Do you know much about Chaos Cults? Because that's what we're up against."
"Hm. Well, as you might have noticed, the Pyramid says as little as possible. I was informed a team was on an important investigation and that my experience would be needed."
They want to destroy the world, and they think they're on the verge of some ascension."
"Hm. Nihilists then. Most of the cultists that I chased after were interested in improving their power and influence in this world."
"We think it has something to do with the rumors of the barbarian horde. Against the walls, the horde would have little chance. But if the cult can damage the walls or open the gate then the city might be in real danger."
"Barbarians? Surely they would not wish to end the world as these cultists desire, so what is the connection? There must be something more to this." He mused aloud.
”My name,” the third man mumbles then clears his throat, and speaks louder ”is Sauklas Kroarlitt. I hope we can help.” He is a middle-aged man with graying hair and wrinkles at the corner of his eyes and forehead. A bandolier across his chest has three hand crossbows and many bolts ready to be used in combat. He is holding a loaded hand crossbow and a boarding axe comfortably. Long sleeves hang loosely from his wrists. He wears blue woolen pants that are patched at the knees and leather armor.
”Maybe the slaughter the horde would do is going to...fuel the ascension.” He steps after Tilver but raises his eyebrows while looking at the others. ”Do you mind if I follow next?”
”Maybe the slaughter the horde would do is going to...fuel the ascension.”
Nekht stood stock still for a moment.
"That is... disturbingly possible." He said shortly.
”Do you mind if I follow next?”
Still thinking, Nekht absently waived his hand forward, ceding his place.
______________________________________________________________________
As you descend from the Kaleidoscope Room into the bowels of the temple, you walk down a flight of stairs, your nerves on alert from the strange sounds and creaks coming from below. Somewhere in the distance you can hear voices, but you're not sure from where.
The stairs descend into a large natural cavern, the floor of which has been leveled mostly smooth by ages of passing humanity or by the placement of now aging platforms and planks. Within the huge cavern rests a portion of a buried city.
There is a round tower rising from floor to ceiling in the middle of the cavern. Both the tower and the cavern are bisected by an old and crumbling masonry wall. The uneven cavern roof soars to thirty feet in height but is much lower in places.
You can see a corpse laying just to the left of the bottom of the stairs.
Nekht paused at the sight of the corpse, and pointed it out to the others.
Just in case, he cast Mage Armor on himself. The whispered words echoed strangely as glowing heiroglyphs surrounded him and faded from view.
Tilver barely pays attention to the massive edifice of the tower and caverns as he spots the corpse on the ground. He rushes to it and gently turns over the body to see who it is.
Silas follows Tilver towards the body and scans the area saying, "This looks like part of "Ghul's Labyrinth". It was an underground city long before Ptolus rose above. I heard that different parts had been repurposed and apparently this section has been."
Sauklas keeps his eyes and feet moving, letting the half-elf investigate the corpse. He scans the cavern and gets about fifteen feet to the right from the bottom of the stairs. ”Tilver, do you recognize who that is?” he asks.
"Ghul's Labyrinth?" Sauklas says then clears his throat again. "Ghul the Skull-King...that's ancient."
"The legend himself?" Said Nekht wonderlingly.
He advanced down the stairs and over to the body himself.
He cast Detect Magic and the image of an Eye of Horus appeared on his forehead.
Magill (a raccoon) expresses her pleasure at being reunited with her companion by rubbing against his legs, so Dain descends the stairway carefully. He moves to follow Tilver and offers his opinion on the cause of death.
Magill, meanwhile, continues to wander north. She sniffs around the rubble - probably looking for snacks.
But there is something just a little off about the path. Tilver spots wear on the stones leading toward the south wall. Much less than the obvious path, but more than elsewhere.
The body is that of a male half-orc wearing tattered gray robe. He appears to have been shot with a crossbow quarrel that lodged in his throat. He has no gear on him, but there is a chest depicting a black handprint.
Garwrick furrows his brow and says to himself "Hm. Quite strange. I usually don't mind walking in other people's dwellings but Ghul? Gives me the heebie-jeebies."
The portly man walks over to the body and stares down at it. "Huh. Tough luck."
A whispered word and the waggle of a bandaged finger, and Nekht brought forth a gaggle of Dancing Lights, hoping more light would be revealing.
”Thanks for the light Nekht-Mutf. Who is marking the walls so we don’t get lost in this labyrinth?” Sauklas asks. ”Unless I just volunteered? I do have chalk.” He sticks his boarding axe in his belt then quickly rummages in a side pocket of his backpack. He pulls out a rough piece of chalk about as wide as his thumb and five inches long.
The body is that of a male half-orc wearing tattered gray robe. He appears to have been shot with a crossbow quarrel that lodged in his throat. He has no gear on him, but there is a chest depicting a black handprint.
Society might reveal the answer, Garwrick, although Silas, Dain or Tilver might already know. Underworld Lore is not appropriate.
The chapel of this cult always keeps a large, black-painted stone hand, palm exposed, somewhere within it. This statue is the heart of the cult. Cultists of the Ebon Hand have no distinctive garb but usually bear some black hand symbol—a tattoo, a charm, a small embroidery on their clothes, and so on. And, of course, many of them are physically deformed in some way, ranging from a prominent birthmark or a withered leg to ritual scarring or a functional mutation, like an extra eye or oversized arms.
"Hm. There are just so many things it COULD be..."
Tilver draws back when he sees the black mark. "Cult of the Ebon Hand. Good gods. They worship deformity and mutations, call it the 'touch of the Ebon Hand.' We may not want to touch it."
The ex-gladiator looks around the space. "They usually have a chapel with a large, black-painted stone hand, palm exposed, somewhere within it. The statue is the heart of the cult. Cultists of the Ebon Hand have no distinctive garb but usually bear some black hand symbol—a tattoo, a charm, a small embroidery on their clothes, and so on. And, of course, many of them are physically deformed in some way, ranging from a prominent birthmark or a withered leg to ritual scarring or a functional mutation, like an extra eye or oversized arms."
Tilver's eye keep coming back to an area near the south wall. "Something about that is off. Looks more worn than other areas except the main path. Maybe there's been more activity over there."
Dain looks over Tilver's shoiulder. "Yep, he was definitely Ebon Hand. They're the...errr...reason... we are here. Well, them and the B-brotherhood of Venom. The two cults have...mmmm...allied for some secret project." He takes a closer look at the crossbow bolt. "M-maybe they had some sort of falling out?" He examines the bolt and the wound for signs of poison.
”Yeah this does look like the Ebon Hand from what I know of them,” Sauklas says. He searches the ground for boot prints, drops of blood, or anything else that may show where the corpse’s assailant fled.
"How long has this corpse been dead? Could it be the actual legend? I mean, for a legend such as Ghul, a simple crossbow bolt seems so... minor key." He said.
Having tried to identify the symbology, but failing critically, Master Nekht turn his attention to the chamber itself.
He proceeded to walk the perimeter of the walls, using his Detect Magic (Arcane Sense) and Perception (+12) to check for clues and secret doors.
He will also pull out a sheet of paper and start hand drawing down the beginnings of a map of the area.
Silas walks to the only exit he sees and looks to see if there are any traps.
Sauklas moves over to the corpse and investigates the crossbow bolt. Pulling it from the man’s neck, he checks the metal tip, the shaft, and the feathers for any markers indicating the craftsman.
Afterwards he stands about ten feet from Silas and says, ”Let me know if you need any help disabling a trap.”
Tilver moves over to the area near the South wall that piqued his interest. "Silas, I think there might be a secret entrance somewhere over here." He tries to follow the worn area and then search the wall.
Dain quietly whistles a little tune to himself as he joins Tilver in examining the southern wall. As he looks for a hidden latch, Magill pads up next to him and joins the search.
Sauklas, the bolt looks like any bolt you could purchase in the city - there is nothing unique about it. Dain, you just begin to think you know where a door is located when things begin to happen.
As Silas approaches the ancient tower you hear the sound from somewhere above and behind you - as if coming from the ceiling - of a warning horn. Three long blasts on the horn. Moments later a quartet of unreasonably large and hideous-looking spiders appear in your midst and attack!
+2 Initiative if Perception, wins ties regardless of which skill is used.
STATUS
Tilver
Garwrick
Nekh-Muft
GREEN
Dain
Silas
Sauklas
BLUE
ORANGE
RED
At the sound of the horns, Nekht turned sharply from the wall he had been examining.
At the appearance of the giant spiders, he took a step forward and intoned an arcane phrase that echoed hollowly from his masked face and pointed at enemy Orange.
Telekinetic Projectile>>
A fallen block of masonry about one bulk rose into the air at his command and flung itself at spider Orange.
for a possible bludgeoning damage.
Tilver shouts as the spiders emerge and attack. He spins to reposition around one, flanking it with Dain before he lays into it with his elven blade.