Amenephus wipes out another piece of dwarven history as F4 falls to divine light. Nayce darts closer to F1 and seems to wink at the last Old Master before vanishing from its sight. F1 now looks as if a breath of wind would finish it and while the wraiths are in slightly better condition, they took have suffered greatly.
Dorvin strides up and growls, "Get doon and stay doon, wispy." as he swings his axe.
Dorvin's blow smites W5 before it can take advantage of the chance to hit the dwarf.
The remaining Old Master wails and cringes away from the archon, while with its last shreds of life force, the final wraith sends a blast of chill necrotic air towards Dorvin. The warlord is too old a hand to be discomposed by the attack, but cannot prevent his quarry from sliding through the stonework and away on to the rostrum.
Dorvin stays effortlessly upright.
The wraith writhes like a salted slug as the radiance hits it, but does not fall. On the other hand, Dorvin feels considerably better.
___
Rusty charges the last Old Master and fells it, leaving the archon to turn its gaze on the remaining wraith.
"Oh, just one left. Well, I suppose that will have to do." Guldarin trots part-way up the nearer stairs, and blasts the last wraith with holh light.
Guldarin potters disappointedly towards the last wraith and does his best to demolish it. As the light fades, only shreds of the creature remain.
Radiance floods over the wraith and it dissolves before Amenephus's divine power. The archon nods solemnly at the party.
"The mountain awaits you. Behold the way to the Heartsblood Forge."
It stamps, causing the ground on top of the podium to crumple and revealing a golden map. So saying, it returns to the well and sinks down. Noticeably, the tremors that have become so familiar that you have hardly noticed them start to die away. It seems your activities have rendered the Citadel safer for the inhabitants for the time being at least. The respite may be short, but it is surely welcome.
Dorvin hangs his head, "I let ya doon, lads. I didnae hold the line, and went after glory like some wee fluffbeard."
Sleep comes easily in the depths. Watch succeeds watch with no interruption, but each of the sleepers seems restless at some point during the night.
Guldarin
In your dreams, you see yourself awake and in the chamber, watching the Old Masters as they were in life. Majestic dwarves, seeking to end the corruption of the mountain, they construct alternative bodies for themselves, designed to encase their souls for a future time. One by one, they sink into old age and are places lovingly in mechanical carapaces at the point of death. The architect of these machines is Verubious Rabscuttle. Years pass and he too is encased in his time. Briefly, you see the later Masters watching as the old skills are lost and the mountain's corruption grows ever greater. A small group smuggles Rabscuttle away from the chamber and into the world. Old and senile now, his mechanism collapsing, you are aware that the decrepit gear-forged who allowed you access here is the same being from the past ages.
Dorvin
In your dreams, you see yourself awake in the chamber in ages past, watching an anguished discussion among the Old Masters. With the corruption of the mountain spreading, they make the decision to close the mines. Not all the dwarves agree and some return to the shafts, determined to work on. You watch, as the remaining Masters deliberately sacrifice their brethren to the dark, collapsing the shafts and locking them into the fabric of the mountain. Glimpses of the centuries follow. The trapped dwarves grow first corrupt and then quite other, and you realise that the insane Forsaken are their descendants. This is an ancient evil. The darkest secret of the mountain dwarves.
Amenephus
You see a vision of the Mountain King, the embodiment of Mammon's assembled power. The giant statue takes the form of a grinning, infernal dwarf. Gold and more gold surrounds him, feeding his life force and building a host for Mammon. You know with certainty that you do not have long to act.
Nayce
You see fleeting images of the heart of the mountain. Luxurious chambers filled with grinning devils serving the will of Mammon clutch at gold, bringing the cursed ore to a place you know to be the Prime Forge. Even in your dream state, you know the heat to be intense and the terrain treacherous. Shifting lumps of rock float on a bed of lava surrounding a well of fire. On the central island, the gleaming figure of a giant infernal dwarf awaits.
Rusty
The image of a tormented gold dragon infests your dreams. Her love of gold has corrupted her, but her long-held vow to protect the mountain causes her terrible pain. She wears a battle harness of corrupted gold, struggling with every breath to free herself.
Bragollach! NOOOO!
The dragonborn wakes from slumber with a stretch and an incendiary yawn. He grimly shares with the party what he envisioned in his nightmare.
"Bragollach, daughter of Satarel, is in trouble. She can't hold out much longer!"
"This thing o' darkness, ah acknowledge mine." Dorvin mutters grimly.
"Mammon is coming and we do not have long to stop him."
"Well. That was unexpected. What a strange thing to do. Not really terribly dwarven."
"His devils bring their gold to the Prime Forge - a treacherous place of fire and magma."
On the podium, the central map glows, demanding your attention.
"Well, if it's glowing, I suppose we should go and have a look at it." Guldarin walks over to the map.
"Looks magical."
Guldarin has no difficulty at all in working out the puzzle. Poking gently at the map, he is rewarded when the entire floor moves smoothly aside, revealing a stairway down.
Rusty stares at the ominous stairway,
"Well, either we make history or become it."
"Well then, let's go and make some. Some history, that is. Although I suppose we're also going to break some things, because the bad guys have plans and we're going to break those and jump up and down on them, so I suppose we're going to make and break things, history and plans, as long as we get them the right way round everything should turn out all right, even if most of us die, which of course I hope we don't, and I'll shut up now."
The staircase descends into the darkness for what feels like miles - and indeed an hour or more passes before you see a glimmer of light ahead. Clearly you are nearing your destination as the growing heat affirms.
"It's getting hot. Perhaps it's worth using a ritual to protect everyone from heat." Guldarin starts getting his ritual gear out.
"It's getting hot. Perhaps it's worth using a ritual to protect everyone from heat." Guldarin starts getting his ritual gear out.
"I have seen this place in my dream. It is a place of raging fire and molten rock. Anything you can do on that account would be wise."
Guldarin settles down to cast his ritual.
Under Guldarin's ministrations, the party feel the temperature drop to a survivable level and proceed cautiously down the remaining stairs. Ahead lies a gateway, guarded by a large devil wielding a spiked chain. On either side squat a pair of outsize golden toads, seated on small plinths.
"We seek a way into the forge. Stand aside and let us pass," Nayce says grimly, although suspecting a devil will not make things so easy.
"Yeah? Who doesn't?" growls the devil.
Dorvin tromps forward, "Are ye bein' funny? Ah'd just get oot oor way." he asks sternly.
"Funny?"
The devil looks as if he's never heard of the word, but flinches slightly from the belligerent dwarf. Another voice joins the conversation.
"What's funny about the rising of our Lord Mammon? Stop messing about and show me a sign of loyalty to him."
"Me too."
"That's both of me."
You realise that this particular devil is two-headed.
Dorvin growls under his breath, "I'll give ye a bloody sign alright..."
"Get on with it then," sneers Ghrysigor.
Dorvin adopts an air of sarcastic innocence, "Oh, ye want the sign, do ye?"
He leans forward, extends his right arm with an upside down fist. He extends his middle finger upwards and smiles.
"Not the sign we're looking for."
"You are either fools or traitors and better off dead."
Clearly battle is joined.
"That is just as well. I would rather kill a devil than bargain with it."
Nayce hexes the thing.
Nayce narrowly fails to overcome Ghrysigor's surprisingly fragile willpower, but does wrap two shrouds of darkness around the devil.