Pressed against a boulder, Zoreck nods at his goblin ally as he cocks the hammer of his pistol and levels it at the oncoming gnolls. "You got it, Boomer! We can take 'em, but no need to fight if we can help it."
Zoreck looks around at the weird, chanting, mud-caked people. His hand is on the grip of his pistol, but he doesn't draw. "Okay... that ain't somethin' ya see every day..."
Drancis squints his eyes against the sun trying to pick out the leader of these mud-worshippers. "I don't see anyone leading this...prayer session. Wonder if we can sneak around them. I don't feel like interrupting them."
Rav yawns. "This be dealing with people with sun baked brains. Sound like Palo job. Rav going to find a nice rock to lounge behind and check his equipment." The goblin heads over behind a rock about as high as his chest, and then gets his gun out and starts polishing it, in a perfect position to shoot mud caked people should the need arise.
Rikkan stores the vials back at his belt, saving them for later in the day. He nodded at Palomia, ready to move forward to support her as the circumstances called for it.
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Seeing there was no way he would allow Palomia to go into a hazardous situation unprotected Drancis joins her walking quietly behind her.
From what I have seen she could not fight her way out of a burlap sack...
"Yes, we would be most appreciative if he could have some food and shelter for the evening."
Zoreck hangs back and observes the attempt at negotiations.
Twelve monks, each caked in the dried soil of the land here, currently sit among the stones. They remain uncommunicative even as Drancis and Palomia attempt to speak with them, focused intently on their rhythmic chant.
Great...more zombies to deal with...
Drancis places a hand on Palomia's arm, pointing to the stones, "Look at those stones, the pattern matches those upon the shards we have seen here. I say we leave them be and see what is inside."
Drancis shrugs, "I have no idea, to be honest, but I'll be damned if I wait for them to make the first move." He motions back to where the others await, "Let's get the others before they die of heat stroke."
"Maybe Rav stay back, in case they turn hostile, can snipe them from here. Maybe Relas stay back too, close in on behind if they attack, hard attack others when being shot through head and something biting ass off..."
"I can do that! Palo can even unleash me for a bit if she has to," the ever-amiable Relas offers.
”I’ll move ahead with Drancis and Palomia. But snipe quickly if they try to swarm us,” Rikkan whispers to the others.
Zoreck nods at Rikkan's words. "I'll go with you." He pats his holstered pistol. "If things go south, me an' Betsy can make short work of those idiots."
"...I say we leave them be and see what is inside."
As the group move past the oblivious chanting initiates, a number of what may be higher ranked monks - they are seemingly less emaciated than those in the sun - emerge from covered holes. These more experienced initiates harshly reprimand any of the chanters who are slowing in their mantra and urge them to resume their meditation. The newcomers speak more directly with the group...
...and when Baron Yacob is mentioned, they nod quietly, Please... come with us... Sister Kaolin will know what to do with you".
As the path moves beyond the strange monastic community, it makes a final turn, passing near a sheltered structure composed of a horseshoe-shaped wall of mud 10 feet high. A dirty blanket hangs from two pegs, shading the interior from the harsh sun. Pushing the dirty blanket aside, a woman - dressed in rags and caked in the near-white mud of the land here - opens her arms to the newcomers, "May Saint Albat guide you..."
Her smile is beatific and her head cocked slightly to one side as if to invite the visitors to speak.
Drancis looks over the woman whom he assumed was Sister Kaolin trying to read her true intentions yet could not seem to decipher her meanings for some reason. Electing to trust her (at least a little) he offers, "Yes, my friend here speaks truly. As you may have guessed we are offworlders, and have been researching how and what these structures were used for in the past on other planets. Do you have any records of these...Gates we may peruse?"
Once it seems nobody is going to try to eat Palomia (heck, if Rav were as skinny as these idiot monks, he might consider eating her!), Rav shakes his head, categorizes the monks as 'cray cray, multiple', and files them away in a mental catalogue.
Tapping Relas on the back, he nods forward. "Let's pull up the rear, in case things go wrong, we can shoot the skinny ones before they catch up."
Keeping to the shadows as much as he can in the canyon, Rav leads Relas around the crazy monks and stops in the bend, so he can keep an eye on the building Palo went into, and on the crazy sun baked monks.
"So, you think she spit on monk yet?" He asks Relas, getting his gun back out again, just in case.
For now, Zoreck plays the "strong, silent type" and watches the proceedings.
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Rav, bored, looks back at the monks baking in the sun, and grins. "Hey Relas, Rav tell you bout time Rav travel with ass-set-ic name Ap'e?" He asks, wiping a cloth on his gun barrel casually. "Three months, Rav travel with guy, he wear no armor, wear no weapons, just hit people with fist. Going to learn under great wise monk on mountain. Every year, Monk take five new apprentices, five old apprentices leave. Ap'e work hard when we get there, only four more apprentices better. When all stand in front of old wise monk, he say..." Rav clears his throat, and takes on a gruff old man voice. "You are now Monks. You will leave behind your old name, and will take on a new one."
"Then old man monk walk up to first disciple, a man with dark hair. He touch him on forehead, and say..." Again the old man voice. "You are now Aye."
"Then the old man monk step sideways to second disciple, a girl with a red ponytail." And again the old man voice. "You are now Bea."
"Old Ap'e turn and leave, stalking away. Rav race to catch up, and ask him why he no stay and be disciple." Rav says, and then pauses, for effect. "Old Ap'e say 'I been called an ape for years, I am not going to be a Monk E!'" Rav begins to chuckle under his breath.
Rikkan tries to help the others persuade the woman of their goals. ”They are right. We were given your name and told you knew more about this area than anymore. And maybe you’d be willing to help us,” he asked hopefully.
Aid another diplomacy
Relas nods, happy to stay outside in the warm sunlight while Palo and most of the others head into the sheltered structure nearby. "Aw, Palo doesn't spit at people - she's not a camel. But I guess sometimes she can be as stubborn as one," he chuckles as the pair settle in to keep an eye on things.
He listens to Rav's little story with great interest and then guffaws quite loudly at the punchline. "Hah! That's a great joke, Rav! Did you hear it somewhere or did you make it up yourself?"
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Rav looks at Relas. "Not joke, Rav speak truth." But he does the cross his heart sign he always does when he's intentionally lying.
"Oh, okay then. I'll have to be sure to share it with all the others back home," the eidolon replies with a wink.
Listening intently and nodding with increased positivity as the friends talk of being from off-world, of their travels and of their interest in the ruins and fragments of the place, Sister Kaolin asks whether the travellers have noticed the regrowth of flora and fauna in Rythes... before welcoming the group, marking each with hallowed soil, to "...the Monastery of St. Albat, founded after the Great Cataclysm drained the Singwheel River. Centuries ago, the land shook and opened, dragging the water down into the earth. Now, following the teachings of St. Albat, we dig to recover it".
When someone asks who Saint Albat was, Sister Kaolin apologises for assuming that they would know such historical details, "It was he that taught us that god grew disappointed with us taking advantage of the bounty we had. We had become wasteful and allowed many of his gifts to go extinct. St. Albat believed god would one day heal the land and restore the river, but, as the soil’s caretakers, we must tend to and protect all that remains here in the basin".
Palomia's, and then Drancis', comments about the ancient structures and crystals receive the most direct - and intriguing - response, "St. Albat possessed a full pane of such glass which also bore the markings of which you speak. He claimed it was the word of divinity and taught him the way to receive god’s grace. Recently, the signs in the heavens have started to align with the patterns on the glass. That’s how we know a renewal is coming, and now your arrival is further proof of that".
'And until the day of the renewal, we shall continue to copy St. Albat's text".
Drancis nods politely on hearing the tale espoused by Sister Kaolin, though his interest is captured by the news of the 'pane of glass' possessed by this Saint.
I wonder if that is related to the Gate that malfunctioned here...
Drancis gestures to the outside , "Is that what your acolytes are studying to become? Scribes to copy St. Albat's text? Where are you copying his text to? I see no scrolls here."
"Into the soil itself, that is where we scribe our texts.... We seek to gain our own understanding of the holy word, to commit it to memory forever so it won’t be lost, and it is a daily reminder of our sacred duty as caretakers of the land", Sister Kaolin is quiet and deferential in her manner.
...and when Palomia suggests examining the glass, she is thoughtful. "The final resting place of St. Albat lies below. You would have to journey underground to reach it, and we sealed its entrance long ago, because too many petitioners sought to steal a pinch of dust from his remains. Normally, I would refuse any request to visit the tomb, but it is a sign of god that you possess another fragment of the sacred word. If you present this to St. Albat, perhaps his spirit may further enlighten us to the coming restoration so we might better prepare for it”.
Smiling, Sister Kaolin removes a rug from the centre of her hut... and reveals a deep pit heading down into darkness, "The acolytes... they will lower you down if you would seek answers".
Drancis glances down into the depths of the pit, for once thankful of his cloak's magical properties.
Why does it always have to be underground??
"Thank you again for allowing us access to your sacred ground Sister Kaolin," he nods formally, "We will make every effort not to disturb his remains any more than is necessary."
He then awaits Ravboom to take the lead here in exploring the dark pit further.
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Once inside, Rav looks at the pit, and grins. "Tunnel diving... Like old times. Remember when we found that slime thing and Rav blew it up..." He trails off, and blinks. "Maybe that was weird dream. Sometimes things after Golarian kind of blurry. As long as we don't find crazy robots, all good." He didn't tell anyone he still had the strange scuttly robot from the compound in his pack. He was sure he'd fix it eventually. But not as a square one wheeled bot!
Once they drop a rope in, Rav scampers down the rope as quietly as possible, and begins scouting ahead.
Rikkan nods at the lady’s charity. ”Thank you for allowing us passage. We will fill you in on whatever happens down there, asssuming we make it back out okay. We really appreciate it,” she says, as he allows the others to lower him down.
Breaking his own silence, Zoreck looks down the pit. He then doffs his hat at Sister Kaolion. "Thank you, ma'am."
He then leans over and looks down the pit. "And by the strong arm of Kurgess... I really hope we don't have to fight more snot-monsters!"
"I think I've had that dream too," Relas remarks as Rav is lowered into the hole. Once his goblin buddy is safely down at the bottom, Relas carefully flaps into the air and descends down as well. Familiar with the routine, he allows Rav to get a little bit ahead before he starts following along behind, eyes open for trouble.
Drancis brings up the rear of the group, dropping down the last part of the trip and allowing his ring of featherfall to break the fall. He makes sure the rope is secure before quietly joining his companions.
I hope this place does not become OUR Tomb here!
A simple platform operated with ropes and pulleys lowers occupants 100 feet below ground into the cool confines of this manmade chamber. Reddish-brown water slowly drips from the enclosing walls into a deeper pit below the platform, and three crystalline doors — all inscribed with familiar circuit-like cracks and etchings— open into a larger room beyond.
Scouting ahead, Ravboom moves into the larger room - alien images and unusual hieroglyphs line the walls of this U-shaped chamber... and everything remains almost ghostly quiet.
Two passageways lead further west...
If no one else can cast Comprehend Languages, Rikkan takes a moment and quickly brews an extract (in his open first level slot), drinking it down as he takes a closer look at the strange writings.
“Hold on a second. Let’s see if I can translate these markings...”
"Nice! I'm pretty good at a lot of things, but translating weird alien languages isn't really one of them."
Drancis shakes his head, "These marking don't make any sense to me at all."
The markings on the wall draw into legibility as Rikkan's elixir courses through his veins... the ancient writings tell much of the story of ancient Rythes, including its early founding, the raising of gates to other worlds as guided by the Opus Aeterna, and of the subsequent war with the Principalities, including a mass exodus of every Patron before the collapse of the last interplanetary gate... and then the tale ends - as if culture itself ceased with the loss of the gates...
With little else to determine, the group move deeper into the network of tunnels - the coarsely carved passageway ends at a wide ledge descending 5 feet into an unworked, mud-filled chamber. A worked stone ledge stands on the opposite side roughly 40 feet away with another short passageway leading west to a brick wall.
...Within the sunken chamber, eleven cylinders of dried mud rise from the floor, a single tube protruding from their side.
Drancis stares at the tubes, a crawling feeling traveling up his spine, before turning to face Palomia, "Rikkan and I can examine the tubes...and I don't even need to be close to them to do so, but I would like to know if they are magical in nature. You seem to be in attunement with the arcane...could you see if any auras still linger here?" he adds in a hopeful voice.
Rav sneaks through the area, and carefully approaches the tubes and examines them while hiding in shadows and generally not being there. He examines as he approaches looking for traps...