Isari inserts the next gearworking and the orichalcum doors slides smoothly open, leading onwards to the next test.
On the floor, dwarven runes spell out more words.
Dwarven
"Second, the faithful of Volund do not bow to the smoke of temptation, but rather seek their goal with the same focused determination a smith uses to forge his metal for the glory of Volund."
Ahead of you stretches a wide hallway leading to another orichalsum door. To either side, you can see narrow alcoves.
The atmosphere around you is still overwhelmingly warm, but thanks to Guldarin, none of you suffer any ill-effects.
Is it well lit in here? Nayce might be able to do some scouting, if there is adequate cover.
"Be wary. This seems a likely place for traps."
Rusty takes a moment to comprehend the runes with the help of his Reading Spectacles.
"The words appear to be a clue to the test, in the form of another parable to the faithful of Volund."
"I think we should make our way directly to the far door, and not be tempted by whatever the alcoves hold."
In the light of the sunrod, something is certainly catching the light from the nearest alcove in a most appetising way.
Dorvin chuckles at the burly dragonborn wearing spectacles.
Dorvin chuckles at the burly dragonborn wearing spectacles.
Rusty lifts his spectacles so they sit fashionably on his forehead.
He walks to (N,7), and with a quick prayer to Bahamut for protection, peers around the corner into the first alcove.
Rusty may well doubt his eyesight as he looks cautiously down the alcove. Sitting on a small plinth is a mythril lyre of sublime workmanship.
Rusty blinks twice, and wonders if he has the time to take up the lyre.
Then he remembers the sitar and bagpipes gathering dust back home.
Glancing upwards, Rusty notices vents in the ceiling. Allowing his eye to travel as far as it can, he also spots an ignition mechanism which appears to be triggered by the door opening.
Having found a potentially alarming devise in the ceiling, neither Rusty or Nayce notice nothing else untoward.
Amenephus touches Rusty on the shoulder. "We are being scryed upon. Not, I think by anything in this room," he murmurs quietly.
Ceiling vents above them, treasures beyond price to the sides of them and a door in front of them, the heroes consider their options.
Rusty nods slowly in agreement with Amenephus' advice, resisting the urge to frantically look around.
Now that he knows the party is under the spotlight, Rusty tries to act nonchalant, and casually walks to (N,12).
Rusty continues up the hallway, noting as he passes the righthand alcove that yet another treasure sits on a marble plinth. This one is an adamantine dwarven urgrosh, of a calibre unknown in the present time. Truly the dwarven smiths of the Golden Citadel were masters of their craft.
"Ha-hum. Now this reminds me of a place I visited to the South, what was it called?" Guladirn casually follows after Rusty. "They had a long corridor in it, though that one was lined with pictures of their kings, and in front of the picture they had some of the items that king had used in their lifetime. I remember a quite fascinating set of scales Queen Pelandrian was said to have used in court cases, to weigh the heart of the accused against a feather. If it weighed less, then they were of course not guilty, and, well, if it weighed more they were guilty. Apparently it led to a sharp drop in the number of people leaving their carts stopped in positions which blocked other road users." He peers down towards the end of the corridor. "Of course, there they had a display at the end. The shrunken skulls of all the thieves they'd caught over the years trying to steal from the site. It's fascinating how they shrink them, yet keep the skull so lifelike, without using magic." He looks around, hoping someone will ask him.
Amenephus wanders gracefully past the pair, and looks questioningly at Guldarin. "Perhaps we should continue, rather than risk a similar fate?"
"I would be concerned with the racket you're all making, but I suspect our presence is already well known."
Nayce glimpses a jewelled brooch of unrivalled workmanship in the next alcove along.
A sulphurous smell starts to nudge at the party's nostrils.
"Aye, aye, fascinatin'" Dorvin says in a manner which suggests the justice system of far off countries is anything but fascinating.
Dorving clumps along the hallway, noticing the priceless treasures as he passes. The sulphurous tang in the air grows stronger.
"…to weigh the heart of the accused against a feather."
"If that is the punishment for minor crimes, I shudder to think what the punishment for murder and treason is."
It's fascinating how they shrink them, yet keep the skull so lifelike, without using magic." He looks around, hoping someone will ask him.
Rusty sniffs and remarks, "I pray to the Platinum Dragon that the process doesn't involve sulphur."
He walks to (O,24) so he can see what's in the fourth, fifth and sixth alcoves.
Nayce continues his cautious exploration, never far behind Rusty.
Senses honed by long exposure to temptation and knowing when something is too good to be true, Rusty and Nayce work their way up the hallway.
A helmet of orichalcum, a multifaceted gemstone set in a deep collar and a pair of battlegreaves rest in the next alcoves.
"If that is the punishment for minor crimes, I shudder to think what the punishment for murder and treason is."
"Oh, that was exactly the same. The queen really didn't like criminals. Of course, if your heart turned out to be lighter than a feather, then she'd allow you to be raised. Assuming you had the money to pay for it, of course. Very unpopular woman. Got decapitated. Twice."
Rusty sniffs and remarks, "I pray to the Platinum Dragon that the process doesn't involve sulphur."
"No, I don't believe so. Quicklime, and some sort of tree sap. And lots of pots."
Guldarin wanders after Rusty.
"I say. Does anyone own a really large cat? That collar looks most suitable."
Amenephus stride ahead, noting a statue of a winged shield maiden.
"I say. Does anyone own a really large cat? That collar looks most suitable."
"This is a test, not a reward. We didn't come here for the trinkets."
"This is a test, not a reward. We didn't come here for the trinkets."
Guldarin keeps his voice low. "I'm well aware of it. But someone is observing us. Of course, going straight for the far door is sensible. If someone doesn't like the idea, well, now they have some reason to think we, or I, might do something extremely foolish. That gibes them less reason to intervene. I certainly don't suggest actually taking anything."
The party continues up the hallway as Guldarin does an impersonation of a stunned tourist.
Behind you, the smell of sulphur is getting stronger and just outside the next door, you hear a faint click from a second set of ceiling vents.
The exit stands before you, needing only the application of Isari's last gearworking to open it.
Noticing the encroachment of sulphur behind him, Rusty quickens the pace towards the next door , slowing only to peer down the last alcove.
"I say. Does anyone own a really large cat? That collar looks most suitable."
Excitedly, Rusty shares his revelation with Guldarin. "Fear not, dwarf-friend. I believe the purpose of the sulphur and these vents," he points towards the ceiling, "are to funnel museum-goers along towards the gift shoppe beyond those doors, where you will find personalised collars and mugs to your liking."
Rusty and Guldarin maintain their subterfuge with gathering imagination.
"Are y'alreet there, Rusty?" Dorvin asks as the dragonborn indulges in whimsy.
"We are here for a purpose, not to chatter." Isari steps forward and inserts the last gear.
"Are y'alreet there, Rusty?"
"Aye, dwarf-friend Dorvin. It's just that I'd rather face an honourable death in battle than succumb to some foul contraption."
"We are here for a purpose, not to chatter." Isari steps forward and inserts the last gear.
Rusty nods and smiles, accepting the admonishment from human-friend Isari and waits for the door to open with sword ready.
Isari carefully inserts the last gearworking and the orcichalcum doors slide open, revealing the final chamber of testing. Runes glow on the other side of the door (the small red-hatched area just in front of the door). Words appear in dwarven.
The Chamber of Lore is a small room, lined with iron racks holding graven copper tablets. Here the craftsmanship reaches new heights and surpasses anything you have seen before. Guldarin and Dorvin both realise that the skill needed to produce such work is beyond the capability of any present-day dwarf. In the centre of the room sits an iron table and chair. On the opposite wall to the door is a relief eye (the lighter patch on the wall surrounded by red-hatched runes). More dwarven runes surround the carving.
"What do those runes say?" Nayce asks warily.