Kellen nods in agreement. "Fair enough; don't think we'll get much information on where Lamantar is anyway from miners."
He'll move clockwise to the next tunnel and check it out (the one at 5M I would guess) to see if he can spot anything of interest and report back.
Cleaning off the prongs of his trident on what clothing the ogres had upon them, "Ya see? That's what's wrong with this world. Ungrateful, I tell ya. Not a single 'you're welcome'." He shakes his head and shrugs.
Thordak keeps an eye out for anything that moves - that's not them - as they make their way through the cave.
This foul-smelling cave is cluttered with an appalling amount of body parts, dead animals, spoiled food, and filth, but most hideous is what
bubbles and cooks in a huge cauldron over a sputtering fire in a nook to the north. Huddled around the cauldron are three revolting creatures: hags, by the look of them.
"Come in, come in, pretty." They say to Kellen, spotting him skulking in the cave mouth. "Come. Speak with the Sisters of the Hook."
Kellen gestures to others to come this way, hoping the Sisters won't notice. He then steps into the room with mild grin, saying: "Hello, Sisters. Looking for some folks by the name of Barl and Lucrecia; you happen to know where I could find them?"
"Oho pretty! Looking for them are you?" says one of the sisters, a hulking humpbacked hag with oversized talons sprouting from her stumpy arms.
"He said so! He said so!" cackles another, tall and thin like a skeleton wrapped in ugly purple flesh and a sagging white robe.
The third Sister, face a mass of pustules and warts the size of gold pieces, shuffles forward a few steps. She is squat and fat with bulbous breasts that hang near the ground. She grunts at Kellen: "Why are you looking for them? Seek you death?"
Kellen stands tense; ready to move at the sight of the Sisters; keeping a watch on the area. But he gives a casual air in his conversation; hoping to give the others time to act and move in.
He rubs his chin as in thought; giving the pustled Sister a look and answers:
"Nothing so dramatic; just business you see. One of them owes me money; and the other owes me a body. Some ranger captain...Lama-something was his name. You wouldn't know anything about that would you?"
Thordak moves up near Kellen, wondering who - or what - it is he's talking to. He tries to remain unnoticed as best he can.
Lym mutters a cantrip and stands ready, her falchion already drawn.
Praxim moves into view and does an evil scan, though the results are probably obvious.
Praxim moves into view and does an evil scan, though the results are probably obvious.
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He tries to remain unnoticed as best he can.
Thordak cringes at the noise and waits for it to die down. Stupid cat. I can't believe they haven't eaten you yet. And I how did I miss the ol' gong-right-next-to-the-door trap? Ah well. Once it finally does, he looks around a moment feeling fairly confident. Whew. That was close. I nearly gave meself away. He then peeks around the corner and sees the hags looking straight at him. Whatever ya do, Thordak, don't move. If I'm real still, I'm pretty sure they'll never notice me. Ugly creatures are just so stupid. He chuckles quietly to himself.
Tomaru stays close to Lym, ready to help if needed.
Whew. That was close. I nearly gave meself away.
Kellen glances to see that the others (especially Thordak) have made their way in, but continues talking as if nothing had happened. "Hmm, sorry...not the only one looking for those folks; forgot to mention that. So, can you tell me where I can find any of those folks I just mentioned?"
The hags step back reflexively as the rest of the group comes around the corner. They lean in over their cauldron and whisper to each other. Then they straighten up and face you again.
The humpback speaks first. 'We knows where he is, yes we do, pretty!"
"He is where we sent him, young and pretty! Though not so much after the ogres finished with him, Briselda my love." Says the tall one.
"Yes, yes, Grelthaga dear." Answers the fat hag. "We sent him there. Spying on us he was."
The one called Briselda speaks again, waving her clawed hands in the air furiously. "Yes! Well spoke Larastine dearest! A spy he was!"
They speak to each other, almost ignoring your presence. Then they turn to you and speak as one: "Why should we tell YOU?"
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"Do you not enjoy chaos and strife?" Lym asks. "Is bloodshed not your candy? When we leave here, there should be plenty of that for you to feast upon. While the Ogres remain in charge, all the sweetest meats go to them, do they not?"
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The three hags blink, slowly. Then Larastine shuffles her fat body forward, stopping halfway to the cave entrance.
"The ogres are not in charge, sweetest. Do you not know?"
Larastine's sisters cackle quietly behind her. Tall, thin Grelthaga throws something in the cauldron, drawing a very pungent smell. Briselda flexes her talons as she laughs, iron-hard nails clacking on the edge of the black vessel.
"They do not! They do not!" They titter. "They do not know! Oh how precious! How perfectly delightful!'
Larastine shuffles a few steps forward again.
"He speaks of Barl and Lucrecia. Do you even know who they are? What they are? Lucrecia slew half the town by herself. Drownded and burned we hear. Barl destroyed Grolki Kreeg with his bare hands, even as Grolki was on his knees in worship." Her breath is rancid, the stench can be smelt even from where you stand.
"Barl Breakbones carried the Sign. As does the snake woman, Lucrecia."
"Lucrecia," Lym hisses.
Where Larastine's breath is foul, Lym's breath carries with it a gust of arcane power that seems to turn the air to ice.
"This sign you speak of will be the Sihedron Rune, I take it. And you three sisters, do you bear the Sihedron Rune? Do you bear it good will... or would you delight in the chaos that shall come when it is shattered? And would you enjoy having what shall be left of Lucrecia if I manage to get hold of her?"
"What do you know of the Rune?" They hiss in unison.
Thordak appears confused on the talk of the Rune. He leans in toward the others as Lym speaks to the hags. "What do we know of this 'Rune'? Is it suppose ta do something? I figured it was just a tattoo that says you belong to a group. Like a gang or a cult or something." He shrugs.
"It is the mark of Thassilon, crafted by a wizard who fled ancient Azlant and made himself a king. It is a rune of seven virtues perverted into seven sins. It is now a brand for stolen souls. It is power and danger."
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The hags cackle and titter at Lym. Larastine shuffles forward a few steps more.
"Oh dearie. Oh Dearie. It's so much more. A wizard you say? The Runelords of Thassilon made wizards look like bumbling apprentices. Seven Runelords, disciples of ancient Xin. Seven points, seven deadly sins, seven Runelords. Each one a king or queen in their own right when they divided Xin's kingdom among themselves - after they killed him."
The hags begin a slow chant, deep throated and grim:
"They destroyed mighty Xin, greatest of them all. They divided his realm, after his fall. Where they walked, misery conquered mirth. Only to perish, when stars fell to earth."
The sound rolls through the cave, each note shaking the cave floor, until the end comes and the finish rolls over you and out into the winter sky. Then they turn to you and hiss in unison:
"We have no quarrel with you. You will find Lamatar in the next cave. Barl and Lucrecia are beyond. We will boil your innards when they have killed you - if you are lucky enough to be dead." The hags laugh and mutter among themselves, but otherwise ignore you.
Kellen stays quiet during exchange, nodding at their tale. He responds to Thordak more than the witches in reply of the rune. "The thing is trouble is all that matters," as he spits on the ground. "Heard bits and pieces of the rest among the cyphermages in Riddleport; don't matter much aside from getting what we came for."
He turns away from the hags and to the others; but especially with an eye on Praxim: "We came for Lamatar and Lucrecia; we done here?"
"And more than done," Lym says.
The wizard pulls a scroll from her belt case and snugs it into her sleeve.
"Let's get going."
"One question first," Praxim says. "What spell are you three working in your cauldron?"
They continue to stir and putter around the cauldron, talking to themselves and ignoring you.
Seeing that his question is to be ignored, Praxim motions the others to head out.
He leans in to whisper, "Curious that they would answer questions about Lucrecia but not their lunch. We can't leave a force so evil at our backs. I know they aren't our objective, but they are vileness of the worst kind."
Kellen nods and whispers:"I trust them about as much as I do a scorpion on my back; you'll get no argument from me - they are up to something. Question is: deal with it now or after we find the body and Lucrecia?"
"Priorities, gentlemen," Lym whispers. "Save our resources for the real threat."
Thordak nods. "The lass is right, lads. We've come for the real threat. If we have ta deal with these hags, we'll deal with 'em later."
Tomaru can't help but dislike the hags, but he stays silent and goes along with the group.
Praxim nods reluctantly. "I fear this is a mistake, but as the group wishes," he says.
Kellen mutters an 'alright' quietly before moving toward the next cave to find Lamatar. But he gives the witches' cave a wary glance as they go and then scouts ahead.
A shrine bearing the feral visage of a brutally beautiful monstrous maiden with the head of a three-eyed jackal and the belly of a pregnant young woman leans against the far wall.
As Kellen works his way to get a better view of the shrine, he notices movement to the right of the small structure. A humanoid figure takes a step foward and raises a bow. Three quick shots, deadly accurate, and Kellen is hit by 2 of them. The arrows themselves are frigid to the touch, a deep and deathly cold.
You never saw the man other than his likeness in the fort, but this...thing...is clearly Lamatar. Or was...his body is covered with ice; his left hand looks almost to be a claw made of icicles. His brow is decorated with a crown of the same ice.
Kellen calls out in a pained way: "Better get in here quick, looks like his corpse ain't quite so dead...I'd guess those it's those damned witches handiwork."
He starts to close the distance on the man in the meantime to limit the man's bowshots. If there's any cover between the two, he'll try for it first.
Lym runs into the next chamber -- and comes to a screeching halt when she sees what was once Lamatar. Brow furrowed and lips tightening, the Wizard fires a trusted standard at the enemy while she feverishly considers her best next action.
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Kellen finds the stairs in the room covered in a thin, near-invisible sheet of ice. His first few steps quickly go out of control, and he thumps onto his hind end, sliding down the steps to the cave floor.
"They turned him into a wight!" Lym yells. "Don't let it touch you! Ranged attacks -- I'll try to snare him in a moment!"
Praxim moves up until he can see and fires his own arrow in return.
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Thordak moves up to the opening of the cave. "Turned who into a what?! Ranged only?! Okay, I can handle ranged." He then looks over at Praxim, "Get 'im, lad!" he says with confidence as he readies to charge in with his trident.
Try to move to within 40' of Lamatar while keeping the others in range and cast Prayer.
Lym's missiles hit Lamatar, but if he feels the pain, he doesn't show it. Praxim's arrows ricochet off of the thing's icy armor.
The ex-Black Arrow seems unfazed by Tomaru's holy intonations. Calmly - with the patience of the grave - he fires again, piercing the oncoming Kellen twice.