"Uh, yeah. Hi again." Chops accepts Gilian's hand and stands. "Were not fighting that guy anymore?" indicating the legate.
"Not yet. First we move out. Then we advise.
Seeing the inn keeper ushering everyone into the portal, and the invader with his bodyguard entering before some of the others enter, she steps forward into the portal with her bow ready to let loose at any threat to her.
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Vikturian moves to Erunthalion's side in order to help the elder brother to his feet.
"Well, looks like we're taking the back route out. You going to up to this, brother?"
Vikturian supports his brother with a shoulder under his arm and then takes him through the portal.
Upon hearing Eruntalion's remark, Gilian puts a calming hand on Chops and murmurs: "Keep your wits and your calm for now. Solvi and you have a long battle to face to be accepted. And we will be at your side.
Louder with a colder tone, she adds:
"Hmph. I don't need to be accepted. I made it this far on my own. Glad to see you though. And her." he stares at Solvistania for a second, then the two strange elorgs. "Eerie," he grunts. "I'll go through next, make sure treachery is not waiting on the other side....well, not immediate treachery. I am sure it's there." With that, Chops boldly steps through the portal on the heels of the brothers.
Solvistania's eyes glaze over with a sense of panic as she sees the portal and the blackness where it leads. Her mind is flooded with repressed memories...memories of being trapped, strapped down while her orcish captors administered to her whatever punishments they could devise without causing any permanent harm.
She stops for a moment heedless of the danger behind her, until Gilian's words bring her to the present again. She reflexively reaches for Victuriun's other hand and whispers "Guide me.". As he takes the slender hand, he can feel her body trembling in fear.
A flash of irritation flickers over Vikturiun's face until he catches the look in his sister's eyes. All to familiar with that look, he swallows his scowl, shieths his sword, and then takes Solvi's hand to guide her.
Gilian and Pebble move though the portal with Duncan, making sure the serving boy goes through as well.
Sorok looked ahead at the portal and without a word, moved in with the others.
Crunk catches the words as he passes through the portal with the innkeeper. Funny. Seems the strange strands of Gloomnight have caught a few unusual Summerlanders in her web this time.
Duncan steps through the protal prapared for anything. He is untouched by the legate's comment and insult, and for a second he didn't feel just hatred for him, but also pity. Akin to a pity one could feel for a rabid animal that has to be put down.
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As you pass through the shadowy gate, you feel an uncomfortable lurch in your gut, as if you've suddenly fallen from a great height. You find yourself in a circular underground chamber, cut from a stone it seems.
The chamber is large enough for you not to feel crowded, but small enough that the eerie light coming from a large green stone set in the center of the ceiling can cast shadowy illumination on all parts of the chamber.
The are thirteen doorways set in the chamber walls, but only two of them are not covered by rubble. The dust is still settling and the tremors can be felt through the stone under your feet.
"Damn", mutters the innkeeper. "The paths to the Depths are closed. There are no shadows beyond this intersection. The stones are surely extinguished." He is silent for a moment. "If we do not reach the Dweller, we are done for. And there are two paths. Some of us must go one way, some of us the other..."
Sorok looked at the Innkeeper for a moment and had to wonder how these creatures were to be kept by one person. He then shook his head and made a decision. "I'll go right."
Solvistania glanced around her at first the one path, then the other path. She leans back and stroked Felina's silky fur. "It matters not to me what direction I travel to the Dweller."
After steadying herself, she quickly glances around the room before positioning herself so the legant and his goon are clearly in front of her and her arrow. The summerlanders might be trusting him, she does not.
She silently watches the group of summerlanders discussing something.
"Who's the straggler you've picked up? Looks like a local."
"Are you together with this group? You look like Shadar militia."
.... then takes Solvi's hand to guide her.
Seeing the two emerge from the portal this way, Chops growls in a barely audible rumble, but before he can meet Solvi's eyes he peers into the gloom of the tunnels alert for danger.
"I'll go with you innkeep. Mind explaining a bit about exactly what we're doing in case the group that doesn't go with you is the first one through?"
Gilian frowns at the innkeeper statement.
"Wait a second. What is in these tunnels and what do we do if we reach the Dweller ? And more precisely what is a dweller? and why would we need to split, won't we be stronger as a single group?"
Illiameyl glances quickly to Vikturiun as she hears him speaking her language.
Without facing Vikturiun, she keeps a watch on the legate as she speaks to Vikturiun in Shadar, "My squad was instructed to investigate the commotion taking place at this inn. While we busy, this #@*% scoundrel and his $&#%$ squad ...", nudging her notched bow in the legate's direction, "... bursts into the inn, and slaughter my friends who happened to be in the the way of them getting to these summerlanders. I would have died by that big s$$%bag next to him, if was not for the female one that looks like you healed me."
She lets out a huge sigh, "Who are you summerlanders that bring such powerful @$#%s here that resulted in my friends dying and me ending up in this dire situation. I want answers. This @#$% must die...", again nudging her bow in the legate's direction.
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Gilian frowns at the innkeeper statement.
"Wait a second. What is in these tunnels and what do we do if we reach the Dweller ? And more precisely what is a dweller? and why would we need to split, won't we be stronger as a single group?"
The innkeeper sighs and turns around to look at Gilian. "You know that long time ago there were many gods, not just his?" He nods at the legate. "Well, not all of those gods were pure and clean and good. Some were even darker and more evil than Izrador himself. And some of them were mad." He pauses for a moment. "Deep underneath the inn you entered are the remnants of an ancient temple of one of those gods, and deep inside the temple there is a well. An ancient well, once filled with the blood of sacrifices. As long as there is a blood in the well, the Dweller will sleep. As to what the Dweller is... I don't know. A remnant of some god, a divine herald... who knows. I only know that we will all die if it wakes."
"Sounds... troubling. Well family? Seems like the others are taking that door; if both doors need manning to see who gets there first, I suppose we should take the second one."
Vikturian starts walking, still supporting his charges, over to the door indicated.
Solvistania files away the Innkeeper's words away for future digestion. She glances over at Durathoin and notes the look on his face briefly before he turned away. Her face grows troubled as she responded quietly to her brother, "Lead the way, we are behind you." indicating Felina as well.
"So if blood is supposed to keep this thing sleeping, why the feck did all of the blood upstairs wake it up?"
Sorok stopped short of the door and looked back at Crunk. The strangely inquisitive Goblin had gotten him thinking about his earlier assumptions of their race. He had always thought the Goblins were a savage and unintelligent race. But not Crunk. Maybe they'd never had a chance before Izrador and his Orcish minions had enslaved them.
How many of your kind have I killed, I wonder? Taking a deep breath, Sorok spoke loudly.
"The well, it's no' bein' refreshed. Have ye ever woken hungry before? With meat bein' cooked nearby, makes yer stomach growl, yer mouth water, an' if ye been starvin, ye move for it with an animalistic urge."
He looked at his axe, Umbra, in his hands; "Whatever is down here... it's hungry and it'll devour all of us, if it's no' stopped."
With finality he slammed the pommel into the wall next to him."An' that's wha' I mean to do. Now all of ye, stop yer bickerin an' choose a door. We've a job t' do."
Illiameyl looks to see the summerlanders discussing something.
Speaking in shadar, she speaks out, "What is happening now? Are we exterminating this one?"
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The innkeeper stops for a moment and then turns towards one doorway. "Here is what we are going to do: I will take one corridor. The priest and the wizard will come with me. The rest of you - take the other corridor. Follow the crystals like the one in the ceiling. If they are glowing, you are on the right track. If you find a dead end, come back here." He sighs. "If you reach the well... The thing inside it is mindless, but it dreams as it sleeps. As it dreams, it touches the minds of mortals in the city. You may encounter its dreams - or nightmares - along the way. If you reach the well, there is a large stone bowl in a circle of rock salt. Just tip it over in the well."
Gilian sighes with relief at the innkeeper words and stops trying to figure how to best divide the party.
I just hope we don't have to go back and get that bloody wizzard out of the legate hands.
She nods to the Innkeeper and turns to the other door. "Let's go then.
61/61 - I just got here.
Chops points at the legate. "Why don't we just kill him now?"
Solvistania turns to face her former lover, her eyes boring deep into his own. This...this is not the man I knew. The man who kept me from despair and madness all those years...the man I love. Durathoin, what happened to you? What dark path robbed you of your spirit?
Her voice echoes softly in the cavern, "Because Durathoin, WE gave our word."
Not really answering the question now, are we. thinks Crunk as the innkeeper divides everyone up. I just hope the dwarf is right. At least the innkeeper hasn't told us that one of us needs to be the sacrifice...yet. Maybe that's why we have this legate along for the ride. Crunk lines up with the larger group. "All right, let's go take care of this mess."
Silently brooding, Duncan thinks how he never gave his word or consented to the truce in anyway. Without a word he motions Sorok to take place at his side at the front of their little company and waits for the rest of them to be ready to move on.
A basin of blood left lying about in case of trouble? Convenient. And if it does not satisfy, there is always the legate. The girl was quick enough to offer the truce, but it need not bind the rest of us...
And this well? An ancient well filled with the blood of sacrifices? Sounds curiously similar to the Black Mirrors. Who was this ancient god, I wonder?
Vikturian enters the second door, signaling his new allies to do the same.
As the people fill in the tunnel, Gilian lays her hands on the most injured ones, healing them.
Good choice lass. Hide me behind the bigs and wides, but close enough to slip forward and gut someone. She knows how to judge her allies quickly. Probably enemies too.