Cal grimaced.
"In more ways than one. It's...well, it's rare for someone with so keen an intellect to actually be a kind, caring man. He's brilliant and unselfish, and many have flourished because of him...myself and Val included. Come, we shouldn't tarry. To the temple, and then to the caves."
With intellect often comes a degree of coldness required to separate fact from fiction. That how father explained it to me, when i was a child. Illya states off hand,
"Mind... your father was clearly an ass." Pasquot points out in passing, falling into step with Illya as the group comes back out the door.
"There's no further I can think of at the moment, either, with my limited funds, that will help us to enter this underwater chamber, so long as one of us has access to magical light. Between that and this promised water breathing spell we have immediate access to the chamber past the Weeping Pool!"
He glances over his shoulder at the town hall they rapidly leave behind, turning right around the edge of the block for the short walk to the Temple of Brigh. "I've never -seen- such a chest of gold... She said that there's a great metal door down in the chamber past the Weeping Pond. Glaucite is the same metal my sword is made of... Very strong, very heavy. Beyond will be whole cooridors made of the stuff. It's not valuable, hard to work, but beyond the door we may find another Star God... That is how the Bauga ended." There's both apprehension and excitement on the warrior's chemical-stained face, and he squeezes his hand over the hilt of his blade reflexively, squeezing it till it creaks and grinding his fingertips against the yellow leather.
"Torch is a strange place...no telling what we might find."
Illya chuckles, An ass he is, but never just incorrect. I have some of his journals documenting my creation,along with my siblings. The man tried some brilliant things. Illya comments, walking near the front of the group. So, strange humanoids and this cave maybe being connected to the Darkland...I find myself curious.
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Bronze wind chimes and clockwork statues decorate the domed portico of this compound dedicated to the goddess of invention. The temple includees a small shopfront selling magic items and gear. Inside, you find an elderly human man equipped with a chainmail suit, a smith's apron, and dozens of workman's tools. He is busy tinkering on some sort of mechanical mask when you enter. He looks up at you inquistively.
"Adventurers. And Fixer. You must be here to explore the caves. Dolga sent you here for a bit of divine assistance, I suspect. My goddess will aid you in the endeavor to rescue the councilor. Hold still for a moment."
He grabs an rune-etched rod off of his table. The runes start to glow as her mutters an old incantation. You briefly feel a strange tingling sensation in your lungs, and then it passes.
"You will have no trouble in the water now, I suspect. The effect will last for about twenty-four hours, give or take a couple. It's almost always twenty-four. Sorry for being brief, but there's a brilliant inventor for you to save. Best of luck. You'll need it, I suspect."
The old priest returns to his work and starts to hum a song, as though you aren't even there. "It'll be the future soon...hmmm....hmm hmmm..."
Zane gives the old man an amused glance, inhaling sharply at the tingling within. Satisfied that the group was ready to proceed, he looks to the others. "Shall we proceed? It seems we're on a tight clock in more ways than one..."
As the party files out, he gives one last curious glance back at the old man and his machines. Maybe there'd be time later to ask him about some of them.
Pasquot pauses to thank the priest prodigiously, and then it's a left turn, out of the temple, and a right at the foot of the Black Hill. It's a simple matter to follow the road along the water's edge, and divert left into the edge of the water at the Weeping Pool, where Pasquot pauses again for the party to gather and ready themselves. He removes his backpack and digs out a series of waterproof bags, four in total. One he puts his alchemist kit in, including his book, and those are put back into his backpack, then the backpack goes into a waterproof sack which he readies to take with him into the water, the tarry, sealed burlap stinking of pitch. "I have two more of these if no one else has thought to purchase one. They'll keep the water off your equipment for... about a minute? Good for brief submersion, nothing more. Does anyone have a light spell? Cast it here, on my chest, and we'll be good to start." He unlashes his sword, holding blade and sheathe in his hand so he can scoot it ahead of him in the water without getting hung up on any theoretical narrow points in the underwater tunnel.
Zane takes one of the offered bags, a look of embarrassment on his face as he places his rations, torches, and components pouch into it before sealing it. With that done, he calls upon that inner fire he possessed, a bright light popping into existence on Pasquot's chest.
Taking his cue from the strange warrior, the sorcerer unleashes the spear from his back, then looks around at everyone. "We all set? Let's go!"
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Jerrek grunts as the incantation affects him.
He follows silently behind the group, still marvelling at the temple to the strange new goddess.
Brigh. I wonder if she holds the answer to my needs? Such wonders...
He looks at the smelly waters of the Weeping Pond with a crash back to reality.
"Time for a swim," Jerrek chuckles as he moves his equipment into a comfortable position for swimming, tucking his wooden medallion under his clothing.
Illya rankles her nose at the scent of the weeping pond, Let us proceed, and quickly making sure all her equipment is tightly sealed and packed away.
Rowland takes one of the waterproofed packs that Pasqout offers and puts his books into it. "Thanks, my friend' he says. "And by all means, Illya, let us proceed."
Without hesitating, getting it all over with in a single abrupt go, Pasquot dips under the water and darts into the tunnel. He clambers hand over hand, feeling his way with the knuckles of his right hand (which holds his sword) and his open left, and despite the waterbreathing spell, he really tries to hold his breath. It's probably more instinct than anything, since actually breathing water is... A jarring experience.
With the assumption that he makes it entirely through to the other side, he returns his sword to his back, and sets his wet waterproof bag up on the edge where it won't fall back in. He then turns around to shine his chest-light down the tunnel, helping the next person through with his hands and sort of 'handing them off' past him. He'll stay in the water to help each person out past him until the whole party is through, leaving much of the room in dim light as his 'pool light' keeps the water lit for those coming through the (frankly terrifying) underwater passage.
Rowland goes next, keeping his sword in his hand and travelling towards the light. He tentatively breathes in the water and then enjoys the spell to its fullest extent. 'This is what magic should be used for. Making itself useful.' he thinks as he accepts Pasquot's help to heave himself out of the water. Spitting water out of his lungs he takes a big gulp of air. "That was fun." he exclaims as he looks around, moving to cover Pasquot's flank while the fighter helps the others through.
Illya dives in the water easily peering through the darkness. Despising every moment of being in this foulness. Breathing in the polluted liquid, slowly, familiar with such magics acceptance of the feeling comes easier for her than most people. She clambers out of the water, dripping and clearly cranky.
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Jerrek takes the opportunity to strip off his chain mail so as to not embarrass himself by swimming. Bare-chested at the rear of the party, Jerrek swims steadily down, enjoying the sensation of breathing beneath the water, attempting to follow the passage of the last person.
Jerrek emerges in low-light and hastens to don his chainmail again.
Fixer removes his armor and will similarly take 10 for a 15 Swim check.
Zane eyes the murky water suspiciously, finally slipping under the surface after the others disappeared. The sorcerer instinctively holds his breath, panic setting in as his mouth opens, his lungs screaming. And then sweet coolness as he cycled water through his chest, his body taking what it needed from the water. Amazed, Zane finally emerges on the other side.
Seeing the large Kellid man donning his armor, the magic-user takes a look around at the scenery, giving Fixer a slight nod. Keeping their path clear was the half-elf's duty.
Fixer dons his armor again, making sure his gear is all dry and ready to go. He unsheathes his blade, holding it in one hand, then nods to the group before padding forward as silently as possible to explore.
Rowland quietly asks the others if they are all right. He then waits for Pasquot to start down the hallway before filling in behind him.
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The polluted water makes your stomach and lungs ache as you swim through the tunnel entrance. You make swift progress, but are left with a disgusted feeling as you reach a patch of dry land inside the cave.
Everyone besides Zane is sickened for one minute after resurfacing.
Dampness hangs in the air of this cave, condensing into heavy moisture on the slick stone walls. The calm, dark waters wind around to the east up north, along a stony, soot-scarred beach. A five-foot-high ledge sporting several stalagmites rises to the east, beyond which a low-ceilinged cave beckons.
With enough room to look and maneuver, Pasquot clears the water's edge and pauses momentarily to unpack his bags, shaking out the wet, waterproof sacks, and leaving them hanging near the sooty beach. He shines the light of his chest-borne spell into the shadows of the stalagmites, peering helplessly at the overwhelming dark as he draws his blade. No use for it, yet, but better safe than sorry, especially considering that he hasn't the slightest chance of seeing anything truly stealthy in these dark crevices. He even hazards to look up before shuffling to the head and holding there, waiting for Jarek to be dressed and ready to take the lead. "Creepy and treacherous here... but your armor should hold us in good stead. Let's take a moment for this queasiness to pass... That water is truly foul. Zane, did you want Jerrek up front, or Fixer?" I hold the center, who holds the front? Do we rely on resilience or awareness?
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As your light dances across the cracks and crevices of the cave, you notice some other faintly dim light sources in the area. Hiding deep in the cracks are some large luminescent beetles, about the size of a bread loaf. You can see three. There are some beetle carapaces strewn throughout the cave, possibly from previous expeditions. The beetles seem to be hiding from you.
"Let Fixer stay a few paces ahead so our less...quiet companions won't disturb his work. Jerrek will guard our rear." The sorcerer studies their surrounding for several moments as the others recover from the disgusting swim before deciding to proceed (left-hand route if there are several).
Zane takes out his spear, deciding to go ahead and have it in hand. Four missing adventuring groups indicated something violent had happened, and the sorcerer didn't intend on joining them.
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Jerrek gets his armour back on, the efforts hiding the retching heaves wracking his body.
By Desna's dainties, that was disgusting!
The Kellid, shaking his head still, pulls his glaive off of his back. He's pleased to hear Zane clarify where his position is to be - he didn't like things changing without reason.
The quiet Kellid peers ahead, making use of the light enchantments to see what lies in wait.
Overcome with nausea, Rowland throws up into the water and is more than willing to wait a minute or two for his stomach to quell. With longsword in his right and his buckler on his left he replies. "Let us be off then."
That cannot be water, it is too foul The pale beauty declares, stand still for a few moments breathing deeply, My healing magic only works on me, it harms normal people. So from this point on i suggest the rest of you be careful. Turning back will be difficult if you get hurt, and i'd rather none of you die. She continues bluntly making sure everyone is accounted for before peering into the darkness herself beyond what light can shed.
The beetles do not immediately register as a threat, and Pasquot heads to back up Fixer, getting the man situated in the front and looking him over quickly for any missed straps or lost items. His own bandoleer is a nightmare of possibly lost little doohickies, after all. With blade drawn he casts one more look about the room while whispering to the rogue "How much space do you need?"
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Nothing stands out to you about the entrance, but you see that the ledge to the east shouldn't be too hard to climb.
The party has a choice to either move father through the water to the northeast, or to climb the ledge to the cardinal east. The water is about chest deep. The ledge is roughly five feet high from your current position, with three large stalagmites visible from the low ground.
Having a relative aversion to the disgusting water, Zane stated with an air of apprehension. "The ledge, then? I have no desire to get back in that water immediately if I can help it."
I'd rather we didn't go back in the water if possible Illya responds cranky about her prior sickness, she follows along, hand on her blade ready to draw at moments notice.
"No arguments her... Let's keep to our left where possible, Fixer. Lead on." Blade drawn, the center of light, he lets the rogue drift ahead to his comfort zone and tries to eye-ball the paces, letting the trapfinder move in low light while they alert everything that can see the glowing hallway of their presence.
"Definitely, let's stay out of the water." Rowland continues warily down the corridor.
Fixer continues on, moving quietly.
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A collection of stalactites and stalagmites choke this low-ceiling cavern, making it difficult to squeeze between them. Matching stalactites close in from the five-foot-high ceiling, giving the impression of a maw of needle-like teeth bearing down on one another. A dead half-orc woman sprawls on the ground near the cave's eastern entrance.
Do I recognize the woman?
Jerrek awaits until everyone clambers safely up before climbing himself. Spying the dead body, he chuckles: "I guess Baine isn't a half-orc woman, right?"
He realises how insensitive that sounds.
"Um, I'm sorry. That was awful of me," he replies to his own statement contritely.
"No, HE is not." Rowland remarks. Not really being an adept healer he lets others look at the body to determine the cause of death, while he stays alert to danger. "He was a powerful wizard, and I assume such trickery would be within his power. But I think Val would have known and mentioned it."
"Also that he could have made it out on his own if he was only this far in." Pasquot waits to see if anyone else has the training in life sciences to see if this half-orc died by causes other than something enormously obvious, but now that they're up here...
"There are some big glowing beetles up here, too. Harmless, I assume. Unless someone wants to poke them with a stick? I saw some bio-luminescence that might be interesting to study, but I can't imagine they'd be useful for anything further than underwater light."
Zane stooped over to walk in the tight area, eyeing the half-orc's corpse nervously. Not being skilled in the life sciences, he waits a prerequisite amount of time before offering, "Might as well see if she has anything useful on her. No sense letting it go to waste." If any of the others offer astonishment, the sorcerer just shrugs. The woman certainly didn't need her belongings any more.
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Her name was Parda Garr, a popular brawler amongst the tougher customers in Torch. She was part of the second group of brutes that entered the cave.
The body has clearly been here for days. Any useful items, arms, or armor that she might have carried with her into the cave seem to have been scavenged from the body already.
Rowland carefully scrutinizes her face, trying to commit it to memory. 'When we get back, we can describe her to Dolga and see if she was a member of one of the groups.
"Bio-luminescent Bugs!" He pulls out his book and starts trying to read but soon realizes that Pasquot is facing the wrong way. "They are probably a great source of magical ink, but if we can avoid them, let's do so." he says as he puts back his book.
Zane gives the dead half-orc a sorrowful glance, but remembered they were on a timer here. He gets the others' attention before motioning further into the complex. "Let us continue. We can mark where we found the body so it can be recovered at a later time."
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From the back of the party, Jerrek's voice echoes forward.
"Which way is she facing?" he asks, not being able to position himself to see the body with everyone scrutinising it.
"She's facedown, why, what's that got to do with it?" Jerrek's explanation gets an enthusiastic 'oh' and raising of eyebrows "So you're saying she fell forward, she was trying to leave." Well that's... ominous.
Does it matter? Dead is dead. Either way we need to continue and fine Khonnir. Illya comments showing little interest or remorse for the dead., It doesn't change our mission, and only encourages actions we should be taking anyway.