@Thordak "With a little time, we can get some stuff in here. We can bring in some tents and pillows and chairs. And I can cast Wall of Stone and Stone Shape to make more permanent dwellings."
With a satisfactory nod, "Fair enough. I'll definitely be lookin' forward to it, lad."
As Tomaru notes, we can fashion rooms or corridors or whatever we want here, I'll even sculpt you a copy of one of the library chairs if you fancy Master Ironheart! Though Mistress Lym should plan out how she wants to divide up her castle, you could have a library, laboratory, workshop, rooms for each of us if that's ok? What a wonderful sanctuary to be able to return to... a true home for us...
"You could do that?! Chairs just like those in the library?! That would be fantastic! Ya know, Aurora, you're just full o' surprises aren't ya? Well, ol' Thordak here is not so bad with surprises himself, ya know," he says with a confident expression, winking. I have absolutely no idea what ta do. Ignoring his annoying thoughts, he turns his thoughts into picturing the chairs within the room. "And this place is startin' ta grow on me, I'll admit."
One small detail. Each person' room will have a small shrine to worship their chosen deity. The shrine will have two drawers in it for any paraphernalia they require.
As you step out from the teleport spell and arrive in Sandpoint, you are greeted by throngs of excited hero-worshipers and grateful citizens. The scene is subtly different from the last return though. The people keep a respectful distance. Gone are the backslapping and handshakes, in their place are awestruck faces and arms-length adoration. The talk of the town is something called the 'Tower Street Sinkhole', although your return eclipses some of that — most of the citizens assume you have returned to investigate the sinkhole, in any event. Once the initial hubbub of your welcome wears off, you are approached by a bashful-looking acolyte of Desna who gives you a message: "Father Zantus wishes to speak to you about the sinkhole as soon as possible at the Sandpoint Cathedral."
Both Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Deverin are there waiting for you at the cathedral with Zantus. They ask for a quick recounting of your adventures in Jorgenfist, listening wide-eyed to tales of giants, dire bears, headless ogres, and horrors from beyond time itself. Soon enough, Father Zantus clears his throat and speaks upon the matter at hand.
"Of course, we’re all very pleased to hear of your successes. Sandpoint owes you a huge debt of thanks for ensuring its safety yet again. And while I’d like nothing better than to let you relax and enjoy a well-earned break from your adventures, you’ve doubtless heard about our newest problem.
A few days ago, the ground collapsed just north of the Garrison, right in the middle of Tower Street. The north wall of the Garrison took some damage, and while fortunately no one was seriously hurt when the sinkhole appeared, that’s not the case anymore. The guards Sheriff Hemlock sent into the pit to investigate never returned. That very night, we all heard something horrible down there: dogs howling—like no dogs I’ve heard before— and bloodcurdling screams. Sheriff’s roped the sinkhole off, and so far nothing’s come up out of it, but those sounds are growing every night.
Whatever’s trapped in there wants out, and by the sounds of it, whatever it is isn’t too keen on emerging friendly."
Praxim initially preens under the admiration of the townspeople, but quickly becomes uncomfortable with their worship-like mentality.
"Sounds like all that flying practice may be about to pay off," Praxim says, stealing a glance at Thordak.
"Have you tried tossing any light down, to see how deep the hole is?"
"It could be more of those things we saw in the round room," Lym warns.
Being an object a adoration seems to be second nature to Tomaru. He is welcoming and friendly, though not as welcoming and friendly to the ladies as he once was. Tomaru gives a letter to a guardsman or other friendly face to be delivered to Ameiko. It has a synopsis of their adventures, in case she wanted to do something with that later when the group is at the inn.
Tomaru looks to the others. "Do the tunnels beneath the glass works reach that far?"
Thordak waves to them all as he walks past the adoring crowd, grinning a bit awkwardly as he does. Leaning in toward the group, "I don't know any of this lot. Please tell me I haven't met these folk. Because if I have and have forgotten them, that would just be embarrassin'."
"Sounds like all that flying practice may be about to pay off," Praxim says, stealing a glance at Thordak.
Nodding matter of factly, "Sounds like it, lad. I'm ready. Bring on this hole in the ground," he declares with an emphatic nod. Curiosity then creeps its way in and he can't help but ask, "Okay, what is this 'Round Room'?"
The round room is I believe the one where we encountered those 'Hounds of Tindalos' Master Thordak... I believe that's what Mistress Blackhand is suggesting
A small frown creases Aurora's brow.
Though if that's the case... and in fact whether it is them or something else equally intent on savagery... why have they not attacked yet?
She shakes her head
Impossible to determine with the information we have to hand so let us not waste time speculating! So the options before us appear to be either hop down and investigate, or wall it over and see what we can find out about underground tunnels first, then go down and investigate... what do we think?
She glances around
My vote is that we've been researching things for weeks now so might be nice to get some exercise
Her smile turns mischievous.
"I'm all for getting some exercise," Praxim says
"Sounds good ta me. I've been itchin' ta get out and do somethin' a bit more interestin'."
Sheriff Hemlock shakes his head. "I didn't 'drop a torch' Master Praxim. Once my squad did not return, I didn't want to mess with that hole again. We had hoped Zantus could reach you, and he did. This is far above our skill level to handle."
"Indeed." Mayor Deverin adds. "We aren't even sure there are any forces in Magnmar that could - or would - get involved," she throws in with some scorn, "not enough profit."
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"Don't worry, Madame Mayor. This is our home. We're here to protect Sandpoint." Tomaru produces a box and offers it to Father Zanthus. "Before I forget. I have a donation for the cathedral." Inside the box are 4 Potions of Cure Light Wounds and a purse with 300 gold. "I also have this." He hands over a scroll tube. "In case we are injured and need some help." It is a Scroll of Heal.
"I believe we have one stop for some information before tackling this giant hole. Speaking of giants, this is Rexil. He is accompanying us. He wasn't one of the ones who attacked Sandpoint."
I'm eager to find out what's causing those noises but also happy to engage in some research first. Given I'm not one for the books I'm happy to take a picnic and camp out next to the hole. That way I can shout out if anything looks like it wants to come up and join me for tea.
Aurora soon has her tea set out and a kettle boiling, and it's several minutes before anyone realises there's no visible fire underneath the kettle.
The collected leadership of Sandpoint seem to see Rexil for the first time. Clearly they noticed him, but whether from respect or fear of you, they did not say anything. Such is the price of fame and power.
"Yes...well...welcome Rexil." Father Zantus manages. Sheriff Hemlock and Mayor Deverin aren't so sure, but they nod in agreement.
The ancient house that sits near the Old Light is much as you remember it: ramshackle and neglected. But it is still occupied. Sitting on his stool with his sketch book is Brodert Quink, busy sketching the ruined Thassilonian structre for the umpteenth time.
Tomaru veritably bounds up to Brodert. "Greetings old friend." Before Brodert can respond, Tomaru continues on. "You know how you always talked about all the wonders left by the Thassilonians and I always said you were crazy? Tomaru never actually said that. He respects his elders. Tomaru did however, look at Brodert like he was crazy as he listened to Brodert's tales. "Well I've been to one. An ancient Thassilonian ruin. We all have. A library, actually. Unfortunately, the books disintegrated when we tried to take them out of there, so we couldn't bring any back with us." Tomaru lets that sink in a moment before pulling out the copies he'd made with a flourish. "But we made some copies!"
Brodert looks confused as he leafs through the books Tomaru has given him. "But..this is...'an Accounting of the Holdings of Greater Shalast' ! And...'Lord of Wealth, Karzoug's Trades and Conquests' ! Where? How?" He looks up at Tomaru with a red wetness in his eyes. "These must have cost a fortune!"
"Mostly, they cost a spell and some time," Lym says. "There is a magnificent library, but it lies in Giant territory, and nothing may be removed lest it succumb to time and fall to dust. If we find ourselves with some time on our hands, maybe we can teleport you there sometime and you can make a day of it. Or a year."
Brodert is silent for a minute as he takes in what Lym has told him. When he manages to finally speak, the words come quietly.
"A...library? F-for a y-year?"
The sinkhole itself stabilized at a diameter of 30 feet, reaching the width of the street and consuming a portion of the Garrison wall to the south—several basement jail cells hang open in the sloping southern wall of the sinkhole. The sinkhole is 15 feet deep, you can barely see a narrow opening along its northwest side at the deepest point, which seems to be a tunnel leading underground.
Exploration of the tunnel accessed from the sinkhole’s depths reveals a short f light of stairs down and a 5-footwide passageway beyond. The sinkhole’s collapse caused most of the Cathedral of Wrath to cave in. All that remains is a narrow passage that runs along the northeastern wall. Eventually, you reach the spiral stairs that lead downward - stairs that you distinctly remember being blocked with rubble.
Someone, or something, has cleared the way from the deeper depths of the Catacombs...
"Any signs that the Sandpoint guards got at least this far?" Praxim asks, looking about with an untrained eye. "Obviously, there aren't any bodies up here."
Praxim scans the stairwell for evil, but admits the stone is too thick to reveal much. He motions for Rexil to stay right behind him, ready to cover their flanks, or jump ahead to help Thordak should he need it.
Aurora flies down and begins looking around with Praxim.
Well there's not much in the way of options to pursue, I heartily suggest we pack some provisions and mount an expedition in to the depths!
She follows along behind Praxim.
"More Thassilonian leftovers being dug up by our enemies," Lym sighs. "Very well. Let's get it done."
Thick webs clog these stairs. Visible here and there through gaps in the unusually thick webbing are deep scratches along the walls and floors—this, along with the absence of any mold or mildew, suggests the stairway has recently been cleared.
The stairs descend 50' from the Catacombs of Wrath above. They appear to end at a dead end.
Aurora scrutinizes the wall then points at it.
There's a door there...
Tomaru goes with the group into the depths. "You would think they would have cleaned in preparation of our arrival."
Looking within the sinkhole, the dwarf takes a deep breath. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's see what's in this hole in the ground because, ya know, I've nothin' better ta do." He then starts down the stairs. "It's true, ya know. I've really nothin' better," he says as a matter of fact. "I've been kinda lazy here of late. Sittin' in me chair and, ummmmm ... that's pretty much it, just sittin' in me chair. Well, when we were at the other place that is. The chairs here just weren't the comfy. Kinda sad, really," he says with a resigned sigh.
As they arrive at the dead end, "Really? If ya wouldn't have pointed it out, lass, I never would've seen it. Good eye," he compliments, nodding. "Alright, I've got this, let's get this blasted door open." The dwarf then attempts to open it.
Beyond the secret door, someone has cleared a narrow passage in collapsed rubble. The passage continues for 15' before it opens up into a room of some sort. The details of the room can't be seen due to a thick fog that fills the room.
Tomaru uses the Staff of Heaven and Earth to cast Control Winds to clear the fog.
The walls, floor, and even the arched ceiling of this place are covered with writing, the words spiraling and trailing in the ancient language of Thassilon. Some of the phrases are immense, with words nearly three feet high, while others are written in tiny, spidery script. The medium for the writing varies as well—sometimes dark ink, sometimes blood, sometimes carved into the stone itself. Passageways to the north and east lead into fog-filled tunnels, and a pair of stone doors, their faces carved with an immense image of a three-eyed jackal’s head, stand to the south. To the west, light flickers in what appears to be an immense cathedral.
Then unnatural fog slowly closes back in....
"Lamashtu. That demonic freak. Again," Lym says when she sees the three-eyed jackal - and she spits with loathing. "This place is passing strange...."
"Bah! The whole place is covered in prayers to the filth," Lym growls. "No magical auras of note .... so where is the fog coming from?"
"Hang on, stop. Abjuration. Give me a moment...."
"See. The guards just got lost in the fog. All we need do is find them and lead them out. Easy as can be."
Aurora surveys the writing as quickly as she can whilst the fog is cleared.
I've always liked adventuring in the lairs of evil gods, it's one of those 'no matter what you do the world is going to be a better place' sort of deals you know!?
She flexes her fingers and continues peering around.
Lym knows that there is some kind of effect cast upon the room at a minimum, and perhaps the whole complex. The Gust does not last long enough before the fog closes back in. And while the scribblings cover the entirety of the surfaces of the room, it will take time to find anything of note.
As the fog closes in, a soft high-pitched voice oozes out of the fog. It comes from everywhere at once, it seems.
"Who comes into our abode...shrine to the Mother?"
Praxim scans for evil and attempts to pinpoint its direction.
Lym's mind goes racing -- and she curses.
"The place is probably covered by a Guards and Wards-effect, like I put on the library. The fog will keep coming back," she whispers to the others.
Out loud, she says: "Who's doing the asking? A polite host shows their face when addressing visitors."
"Polite? Why should we be polite? You came into our home without an invite. That is the opposite of polite."
There is silence in the fog.
"Still, we shall acquiesce to your suggestion if...you agree to an exchange of information. We shall start: we have no name, at least none that matters. In ancient times we were called the Scribbler. A term of endearment perhaps. We are the caretaker of this shrine to the Mother of Monsters. Who are you?"
Deciding that Lym's taking the lead with the voice is preferable, Aurora simply keeps guard in case the fog is being used to conceal minions intent on attack.
Her fingers twitch and smoke as her eyes glance around patiently.
"I am a seeker for knowledge, for power, and ultimately for the ability to tip the scales of history in accordance with my will, no matter what forces might be ranged against me. My mother did not name me; my father did not name me; but my first enemy brought to me the name of Blackhand by her acts of enmity," Lym says.
Tomaru adds. "I am a child of two worlds. I turned hatred into acceptance. I have my father's strength, my mother's compassion. From my grandfathers, I got pride and my name, Tsuto Tomaru."
"I am Praxim. I serve the forces of good and compassion and shoot arrows into the people who don't. Which side are you on?"
"Uuuuhhhh...I Rexil. I ....uhhhh...I have no arrows. I have big club."
Cutting his eyes back and forth between the fog and his team, Thordak clears his throat and steps up. "Name's Thordak." His eyes then dart around as he waits a moment to see what may happen. He then remembers something else that he may need to clarify and blurts out, "Oh! And I'm a dwarf." He then waits another moment to see if that might be enough. After a few seconds - in which feels like an eternity to the dwarf - he decides to wrap up his introduction hoping that'll be enough to move this conversation along. "That's it, by the way. I'm Thordak and I'm a dwarf. I got nothin' else," he says, shrugging.
Shrugging, Aurora clears her throat
One is not normally in the habit of making introductions to fog, however I don't wish to be rude and buck the trend my companions have set...
she gathers the hem of her robe and curtseys
I am Aurora Ulfurdottir, Paragon of scorched bone, Sister to the wretched tribe of Qadroi, Speaker for the crimson sleepless of Khem,
Ashbringer, Consul to Jamucrirth Firebreath...
she tilts her head and shrugs again
...that'll probably do for now, I'd have to look the rest up and it simply isn't done to be nose-deep in a book when meeting someone for the first time...
The voice is tinged with amusment, oozing out of the fog once again.
"We are curious Blackhand and...friends...what happened to Thassilon?"