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"Not so fast. I need assurances that my employer's requirements will be met." He draws one of his shortswords a few inches out of the scabbard, and cuts his thumb with the exposed blade. He then uses the blood to draw the design of a dagger on his throat. "By the blood of my mother and the dagger of my father, I swear that the information I will tell you is true, relevant, and in my best judgement, useful for the purpose of finding the Dungeons of the Ever-Dying."
"If you can make the same oath, or one just as sincere, that, as I said before, 'when it comes time to act on the threat to the Jeweled Sages—whatever it may be—Torch will be welcome to stand alongside his colleagues in the Society,' then I will give you the information you need."
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Ecthelien does not entirely trust the sellsword, but figures the group needs the help.
While I am not inclined to provide a blood oath, I appreciate the sincerity. I have heard these are common in Lastwall, especially under dire circumstances, but these not common for my people. However, anyone willing to help the Jeweled Sages is likely seeking the same goal as we are.
He considers an action which could be comparable to the oath.
I can only offer an oath akin to our pledge to Explore, Report and Co-operate to the Society and cooperation with you indeed seems to be paramount in this case.
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Mekhu listens carefully to the half-orc's words and considers his proposal. Recognising the significance and solemnity of the oath he offers he mirrors the gesture, exposing enough of his blade to score a line of red across his thumb. Tearing a page from his notebook he imprints his thumbprint in blood on the page before writing and signing the declaration.
"With Thoth, Lord of Divine Words as my witness, I vow to you that I will do whatever is within my power to make Grandmaster Torch welcome within the Society when the time comes," he says, handing over the paper. "Does that suffice?"
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Shin steps forward.
"This one knows not of this Grandmaster Torch but This on holds oaths seriously and since you have given one, This one shall do so as well."
Holding forth his treasured weapon,
"Upon this Treasure in my hands, within holds my honor and by blood." he pauses to cut his palms with his own dagger to show his own blood, he signs it across with his fingers in swift decisive strokes.
"I hold faith until this oath has being broken by none of my doings." he finishes.
"Hold up to your bargain and This one will put in a good word on behalf of this Grandmaster Torch."
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"Very well, I am satisfied by these words." The mercenary brings forth several documents from a secret pocket. Reading them provides the following clues:
- The Dungeons lie “beneath the Red Canals,” a reference to waterways that have existed since ancient times—though possibly under different names; Zurnzal heard this repeated by several of Veshtahz’s victims.
- The Dungeons fell under the domain of General Menetashtor, an infamously cruel general who served the Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues; Zurnzal offers an ancient tablet showing the general’s troops being assigned “permanent duty” at the Dungeons.
- The Dungeons were once cleansed by Sarenite priests, who recorded the cleansing but later tampered with their own records to obfuscate knowledge of the Dungeons; Zurnzal offers the altered document as proof.
"This is all I have. Your society will hear from my employer in due time." With that, he leaves, and quickly disappears into the night.
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Mekhu takes the documents and speed-reads them before passing them on for others to read. "Your help is valued, Zurnzal. Be assured that we will fulfil our oaths to you."
With the half-orc departed Mekhu looks around at the disordered office. "Perhaps there are clues to be gained here," he says, and starts looking through Obahar's research to garner what information he can. "I suspect more would be available from Obahar, should be be returned to lucidity. Perhaps the Sarenites would be good enough to assist us in restoring his mind."
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Mekhu starts working with the papers and documents, checking for details about the information gained before, and the clues provided by Zurnzal. By the time Obahar is taken to the temple, healed, and returns, Mekhu has figured out that the Dungeons must be located below a set of ancient waterways known as the Red Canals, in proximity to a shrine that is thought to be haunted today, but was the personal shrine of General Menetashtor, in whose domain the Dungeons were located. Based on the original documents by the sarenite priests who cleansed the dungeons, they found a secret entrance behind the altar.
It is evening now. Do you want to go immediately, or wait?
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Mekhu presents his findings when the others return from the temple. The office is notably tidier and significantly better arranged, Mekhu having catalogued and reviewed much of Obahar's paperwork.
"I feel we should settle this matter as quickly as possible, lest more people come to harm," he suggests, "though if others wish to rest or recuperate overnight then I have no qualms."
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Obahar is still a little woozy, but smiles wanly at the organization of his office. "Thank you, Mekhu. My office doesn't usually look like that -- I was working on getting all the information I could regarding the time period of the Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues set up on my desk, ready for when you returned, when I was attacked. It was a floating head, as they have described, but I can confirm it was definitely a Doru div. It had purple-grey skin, milky white eyes, black hair-like tendrils, four horns, and sharp teeth in multiple rows. Its saliva was poisonous, and caused the mental state I was in when you found me. The half-orc arrived while I was being attacked, and although I'm not sure he realizes it, he not only healed me, but also scared away the creature. Did you agree to help him? I can't but feel grateful, even though I figure he did it for his own reasons instead of altruism."
Walking through the late-night streets, the quiet feels ominous. The attacks and mysterious happenings have made the denizens of this district of Merab nervous about staying out. You find your way easily to the Red Canals, and locate the shrine in question, an unmarked, abandoned building in an unremarkable area. The Red Canals are underground in this area, and over them are a simple market district, the shops mostly shuttered and closed. None of the few citizens walking by come close to this shrine, and a couple make warding gestures as they hurriedly pass by.
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Shin massages his temple as his companion dives into the papers and with mind boggling speed deciphers them with little effort. He knew he wasn't much of a scholar but watching them in action was awe inspiring to say the least.
Following his companions, his really smart companions, he ensures that his trusty crossbow is loaded and he has sufficient bolts to carry through.
"This one will cover your backs." he offers.
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Andor easily finds the entrance behind the altar. It seems like it was once well-concealed, but no one has made an attempt to hide it since the Dawnflower's forces found it long ago.
The passageway is narrow, and will be a squeeze for human-sized creatures. Taking it calmly and slowly will lead to no problems. Fortunately, the society hasn't sent any polearm-wielding cavaliers with horse-sized mounts on this mission.
The passage leads down to a wider tunnel, that appears to be an ancient street, excavated and cleared, with the remnants of houses and storefronts along it, long since boarded up and collapsed. As you walk along it, you are struck by how profoundly ancient these tunnels must be. If these are truly the ruins of Merab from the days of the Pharaoh of Forgotten Plagues, then these were already millennia abandoned when Aroden himself raised the island of Kortos from the Inner Sea.
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Mekhu stops briefly to marvel at the ruins hidden beneath the unsuspecting feet of the city above and has to resist the urge to take his notebook out to start making sketches and jotting down observations. There is clearly danger down here, and he knows he can't afford to be distracted.
"We need to find the entrance to these dungeons," Mekhu says, his voice echoing quietly off the cramped confines of the buried street. He looks around for any evidence of where the entrance might be.
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Mekhu is able to notice a number of tracks on the floor, and although he isn't well trained in tracking in general, is able to follow them reasonably enough. He also hears a faint sound in the distance that he can't quite make out, but he's sure it's something rhythmic.
The ancient street leads to the entrance of what appears to be a natural cavern, which opens out further into a domed space that has somehow survived untold millennia. A narrow path winds down the side of the space, and at the bottom, a twenty-foot-high windowless structure occupies much of this space. You can see stairs leading to a platform or porch on the west side of the building from where you are standing.
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Ecthelien follows along, marvelling at the ancient stonework.
This almost makes me feel young again. Fascintating.
He renews his mage armor spell at the first sight of the windowless structure.
He will look up as they traverse the path.
Can you discern the nature or type of the tracks? What language was the chanting? Oh I wish I had heard it. Do you recognize the dialect? Can you tell what they were saying?
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The tracks look like ordinary shoe-prints, the appropriate size for humans or other human-sized creatures. The race is not distinguishable since any race can wear shoes.
The pathfinders make a few missteps as they get closer, making small noises, but the chanting doesn't stop. It becomes more obvious as they get closer, and even those with less sharp hearing can now detect it.
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The group cautiously works their way up the path, and skirts the building carefully. The large porch leads to an empty entry chamber, with doors to the south, east, and west that presumably open into the interior. They avoid this as too obvious an entrance, and move to the west side of the structure.
Four thin pillars support the stone overhang above this narrow balcony running along the western side of the building. Two doors—one at the north end of the balcony, one at the south—lead inside. A robed corpse leans against one of the pillars, a dagger plunged into his chest up to the hilt.
The chanting is now fully audible to everyone.
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Ecthelien's fears are not realized as the corpse remains inanimate. Mekhu examines the dagger and realizes it is of uncommonly fine manufacture.
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The man looks like a homeless vagrant with a ratty robe on, and -- this is just a guess -- you think he died from being stabbed in the heart with a magical dagger.
Ash leads the way into the narrow hallway, after determining that the door is not locked, and after an inspection by the sharp-eyed investigator fails to find any traps. A four-way intersection leads to numerous doors. Several of them stand open, revealing ten-by-ten cells. Many of them are empty. Others contain two simple sleeping pallets, along with a few pieces of clothing, and a few idols arranged in a corner like a makeshift shrine. One room has a corpse in it, a human male whose throat has been slit. No weapons or valuables are found on him.
The chanting is now audibly louder, coming through the door to the east.
The door to the east is locked, while none of the other doors, including the one to the south, are locked.