Searching around the barracks, the party finds locked footlockers under two of the beds. The beds are made, but look like they are slept in on a regular basis
"Nobody in here," says the gnome in disappointment. "Shall we continue?"
"Yes." Dovak says.
Cyniq has no problem letting someone else open the door, she knows that she is not made for the front line.
Should we check one floor before moving to another? I'd rather not have something sneak up on us.
As Jaraim peers down through the key hole window, the dwarf realizes the window is a defensive measure, as it looks down to the gate and courtyard area of the tower. He sees the mechanism that works the gate and what appears to wine making equipment arrayed around a sort of makeshift stage/workbench. Lastly he sees a huge vine growing out of a crack in the cobblestone and climbing the western wall.
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"Looks like some sort of wine making operation."
Jaraim pauses for a moment before taking on a more sarcastic tone. "Ohhh... LOVELY... 'course your tower walls are gonna collapse when ya ignore basic maintenance. He turns to the group and motions over his shoulder toward the window shaking his head. "Huge vine growin' through the wall. Waste of time to build a tower with rocks if you're just going to ignore basic upkeep and maintenance. Short sighted humans. When are they going to learn how to slow down and take care... Humph"
Realizing no one would understand his frustration in the same way he trails off with a and continues to mutter quietly in dwarven.
You mean this isn't dwarven stone? Cyniq smiles and follows the others through the tower complex.
Zirt begins giggling softly at the dwarf's grumbling, and as he continues her giggles turn into gales of laughter which threaten her balance and require her to steady herself against the wall.
Eventually, she sobers and puts a little hand on the dwarf's burly shoulder as if to comfort him.
As the party continues, the gnome skips happily along.
"You know, there are plenty of humans who take care of their things. And don't keep deadly birds as pets." Dovak responds, slightly indignant as he looks out the dormitory door.
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Cyniq's comment seems to sting Jaraim.
"Of course it isn't dwarven stone! Dwarves build to last thousands of years. We take pride in the longevity of our work. Why... just look at these arches. You see that? Last maybe a hundred years before they start to crumble and cause further structural instability! You can't be seriously asking me if this is Dwarven ... " Jaraim suddenly recognizes the sarcasm in Cyniq's question. "BAH!"
His mood brightens as Zirt speaks to him in Dwarven.
"K'aha ath 'urrha waurh our', wahaart. Taggoret ath az zhurrtahur'th rhnazzia. Lazkrawaaziark poaourrt tathziharhkaurr azrt hazi' zhak' 'athkurho azrt khaztakaurr urwa k'a poaazhtat waurng. A zhur'nt rhhur'tno k'ata our' k'hur'k' k'a rh'ponazi 'aznnth urwa lo 'urla azrt th'urzh our' khazrt Tzhazhgar zhurhglazrth'arh."
"Indeed sir Dovak, moreso the latter I'd say. Though, I do wonder if this deadly bird owner's wine is any good. Fancy spirits aren't usually my thing but I am feeling a bit parched..."
The group moves down the stairs to the east and find themselves in a anteroom before moving into the courtyard/receiving area. Upon the makeshift stage/workbench the groups sees some sort of mannikins. Suddenly the three manikins jolt, shift, and turn toward the front of the stage. They bow low, in delicate unison. The first has a skeletal form, with a face like a cresent moon and hands made from sickles. The second is a maiden made from white ash wood that carries a goblet made from white gold. The third is a vine-covered figure wearing a blank mask and carrying an empty bottle of wine. The vine-covered figure mimes the action of pouring wine into the goblet. The goblet is then offered up to the moon which mimes drinking from it. As the manikins act, a strange, high-pitched voice of an unseen woman narrates, “So the master of royal art decreed, never more shall this vulgar matter be, of better stuff shall I be wrought, never to suffer the princess’s cruel gifts. In likeness of those beyond, may my form be as perfect as the winged host, as powerful as the horned fiend. May I be made anew beneath the skeleton moon.”
Zirt stops, wide-eyed. "That sounds like a line from a play or something!" she whispers excitedly.
"Fascinating," Hiram says, kneeling next to the work bench to get a better look at the pantomime.
Ooh, entertainment, way out here? Not a big crowd draw... She claps at the end of the performance, I don't recognize it, anyone else?
Though the name escapes memory, Hiram and Cyniq are able to recognize that this play as a whole details the symbolic transformation of the rite master into a spiritual entity. This specific scene depicts the blessing of ritual wine under the skeleton moon. The two come to the realization that this scene is part of an alchemical mystery play and, part of an ongoing transmutation ritual.
"Reminds me of Delecan's work. Melodramatic stuff about the burden of responsibility that comes with the mantle of mystical might. Couple of decent references to transmutation ritual in there. More than I'd expect from Delecan anyway, he was always a subpar writer and subpar wizard." Hiram said with interest.
"A distraction, shall we continue?"
As the group searches about the entry yard, suddenly a man appears on the landing. He is dressed in well-tailored clothes now worn with age. His
face is gaunt and he shows clear signs of illness. He starts to rant and rave at the party, accusing them of invading his home and trying to steal his journal. He yells, Get them!, before retreating back up the stairs. As a group, you see three of the manikins rise and begun moving toward you, their wooden bodies clicking and popping ominously. One of the manikins attacks Hiram, but misses. Another attacks Cyniq, missing as well. The last attacks Jaraim, but it's attack is equally ineffective.
"Little devils!" Hiram shouts, thankful for his shield.
"Eep!" exclaims the little gnome. "Mr. d'Aponte is not very nice!"
She pulls out her bow, but frowns when she realizes she doesn't have a clear shot. Instead of drawing it, she takes a deep breath and begins telling you all a story of a young gnome who got lost deep in the forest, and how his entire village came together to look for him and eventually, after many difficulties, saved him and brought him back to the village.
Puppets of Doom! That sounds like a good name for this chapter. Cyniq takes a step north and then lets loose a magic missile at the one that attacked her.
Dovak draws his longsword and swings at the one threatening Cyniq. "Back, foul..." he starts yelling but only finishes with a confused "... puppet?" then steps to a position where he can defend more of his teammates.
Hiram attacks a manikin, sending splinters flying. Cyniq steps back and fire a missle of arcane energy hitting the same manikin. Zirt begins a thrilling tale, inspiring her companions. Jaraim swings his warhammer, but the little manikin dodges out of the way.
The manikins near Hiram attack and miss, but the one near Jaraim, hit the dwarf squarely in the ribs.
The little gnome continues telling her story, but draws her dagger and moves next to the dwarf, swinging it tentatively at the thing that attacked her friend.
Dovak swings at the one in front of him again.
Zirt attempts to aid Jaraim to no avail. Dovak swings at the nearest one, but it skitters out of the way. Hiram connects again, this time on the one nearest him. Once again, he see splinters of wood fly off a little manikin. Cynis delays, waiting to spot an opening to strike,
The manikins press the attack and once again the one near Jaraim connects and damages the dwarf. Also once again, the other two fail to connect with Hiram and Dovak.
Zirt squeals in fear and dodges behind Jaraim, laying one little hand on his broad dwarven shoulder and weaving a strange word into the middle of her story.
Hiram presses his attack and smashes the manikin, in front of him, to flinders. Zirt moves to Jaraim and the dwarf feels healing energy overcome him and soothe his injuries.
These puppets are no fun any more. We can use them for kindling! she states as she defensively moves to assist another, she'll try to slide around one of the puppets if she can, while she slashes at the mannequin in front of her.
[ooc]+1 dagger[/i]
Dovak moves into the flanking position and tries to chop the puppet.
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Panic crosses his face as the deadly manikin carves deep into his flesh and his vision begins to blur. Fortunately, it is short-lived and his health is restored.
Thank the gods for quick handed gnomes. He says as he regroups and raises his hammer for another swing at the manikin.
Att: +1 str, +1 bardic performance
Dam: +1 str, +1 bardic performance
Cyniq joins the melee, stabbing with her dagger, but fails to connect.
Dovak begins to wonder if his goddess has turned on him as yet another sword thrust misses the amazingly agile manikins.
Jaraim, still shaken from his close call with severe injury, misses the manikin in front of him.
The manikin near Hiram attacks him, apparently offened that he smashed his companion. The manikin manages to hit Hiram, slamming itself into his leg.
The other manikin strike at Jaraim again, but thankfully misses the stout dwarf.
Scowling at the animated hooligan, Hiram turns his attention to it next.
"Iomedae's tapered teats these things are fast!" Dovak exclaims. He swings again, expecting little to come of it.
Zirt, seeing that things have turned in favor of her friends, winds her tale to a happy conclusion and steps forward to distract the thing left in front of Jaraim.
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"Torag, guide my hammer lest I take refuge at Iomede's tapered teat!" Jaraim growls and arcs his hammer toward the animated toy again.
buffs: Att: +1 str, +2 Zirt's aid | Dam: +1 str
"Hah! A grazh our' zhaha nathkarark, k'azrgth khaazk poaazhtat urra. Rurzh nak'th thaa k'ath poazkkna art ar ur'h waazgurh thururr, th'aznn zha."
Zirt giggles softly.
Hiram and Dovak work in tandem and smash a manikin to pieces.
Meanwhile Zirt steps forward and aids her newest companion.
Bolstered by the little gnome, Jaraim finally connects, chipping a few splinters of the final manikin.