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"Magic emanates from this area, either the horse or the stall itself. Regretfully this one cannot pinpoint where or what."
Is this a barrier to keep the stead in place? Is this a magical beast?
"Did the proprietors strike you as users of magic? Surely the stable-hand was not?"
Cepsihir, filled with consternation at this riddle, calls upon his general knowledge to identify the creature as something other than a horse.
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"Here, I found this in the straw." Diana holds up the holy symbol to show her allies. "I doubt that this would be too common in these lands."
She narrows her eyes at the horse and searches for any evil auras. "An angry horse... Her voice trail off as if lost in thought for a moment. "If there truly is one here! Seems to me it keeps us out of that stall more than anything else." Diana moves to touch the horse and tries to enter the stall.
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Slipping into the kitchen, Pavanna indicates to Scorpions to stand by the doorway. Pavanna keeps about 5 feet of distance between herself and the cook. "My dear Tarshi, " Pavanna purrs, "you and your sisters have shown us most excellent hospitality. And the food?" she gestures around the kitchen with both hands "As good as I've had in ages. You really do wonders in here. In trying to establish our new caravan routes though, I cannot but wonder if you've recently come across any of our competition?" Pavanna carefully chooses her next words, watching Tarshi's face for any expression change. "Dwarves, my dear. A group of filthy, rock eating dwarves."
Diplomacy:
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A well practiced liar, Pavanna picks up on Tarshi's discomfort with the subject. "That's a good generalization my dear. I can't stand them myself. But there are dwarves here aren't there dear? Don't bother lying to me. It's insulting, really. Ossok here can smell their stench." she gestures to the half-orc. "You know, we'd be willing to help you get rid of your dwarf problem."
Sense Motive:
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Diana and Krystiana will not like this.
"This one has a way to subdue the horse. It impedes our progress, and unless there is a better alternative, this one sees no other way around it."
Cepsihir points a finger toward a pale in the adjacent vacant stall.
"Percikan asam."
A glob of clear liquid squirts from his finger, splattering against the bucket. Almost as quickly, the liquid evaporates, leaving behind rough etching where smooth metal had once been.
"We can revive it afterward. This one doesn't like the idea much, but do you trust the others will have a solution? A non-lethal one?"
Krystiana: map is updated, sorry for the lack of clarity. There are two mules along the left side; the grey horse in the upper right is the stallion of interest.
Cepsehir pokes the stallion with a stick. The stallion whinnies and rears up from the perceievd attack, smashing down against the rear wall of the stall with a loud crash. This is clearly a real horse, and you have just poked it with a stick, making it even more agitated that it was before.
At this point, Pavanna, Ossok and Scorpions hear a loud CRASH from outside, and the screams of a horse in distress. The two sisters pause briefly on the way to their room, but then continue on and lock themselves in their bedroom.
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"Cepsihir! Don't poke the poor thing. It is probably being tormented by something just dreadful... like a river drake... or Pavanna." Krystiana again tries to give the horse some soothing sounds, but really isn't sure what to do to calm the frightened horse.
Krystiana whispers to the horse, "Don't worry, the mean, ugly devil woman won't get you."
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Giving a loud sigh Diana opens the stall. "Here, just watch this. If it were really here could I do this?" She wraps her arms about the horse's neck and gives it a force full kiss on its snout. Turning to her fellows shes gives them a wry smile and walks about the stall, ignoring the angry beast. Muttering to herself, "There's a reason for this beast here, now just what are you hiding..."
As Diana reaches out to kiss the horse, it reacts violently, rearing back again, and crashing down with both front hooves on the door to the stall. However, as it pulls away it seems to pass directly through her hands as if they were not there. The horse itself becomes hazy and insubtanial, and you realize that it is in fact nothing more than a figment of your imagination. It still reacts to your presence, stamping, rolling its eyes and screaming, but its outline remains ghostly.
Diana opens the stall door and walks right through the horse's space, ignoring its presence, and the horse fades to a barely-perceptible outline.
Diana: a quick glance doesn't reveal anything unusual. The stall is covered with straw, with a large pile of it in the northeastern corner. It is otherwise bare of the usual accouterments of a stable.
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Cepsihir takes a moment to process the preceding events.
A fine illusion. What use would they have for one here?
"Diana, this one must trouble you with a question... what diety does the holy symbol you found represent?"
Cepsihir takes a deep breath and winces slightly as he enters the stable, still slightly shocked at the realization that the horse was, indeed, fake.
As Krytiana kicks some of the straw, Diana spots a dark crack in the flooring, slightly wider than a typical gap between floorboards. Clearing away some more hay reveals a trapdoor set into the stall's floor. There is a small wooden handle that folds out of the door itself which allows opening it from this side.
As Cepsehir is halfway back to the Inn, the front door opens and Pavanna and Ossok exit, heading for the stables. The group quickly rejoins and reconvenes in the stables.
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Cepsihir ducks to a crouch as the front door opens suddenly; to his surprise, it's Pavanna. Making as much haste as he dares, Cepsihir shuffles quickly to Pavanna, hoping to remain in the shadows.
"Pavanna."
Cepsihir watches Pavanna seemingly ignore his beckon, though recognizes she's chosen to linger at the entrance longer than necessary.
"We've explored the stables. The stable-hand has left with some haste, and it is unknown what he will return with. We have found evidence suggesting the dwarves, or their possessions, have come through. The proprietors were also masking an underground passage with an illusory horse; this one was about to retrieve you and the others before we delved deeper."
Cepsihir watches as Pavanna searches her person, as though she had forgot some important trinket, and returns indoors.
She is well-practiced in deceit. We are a natural pair...
After watching the remaining three make their way from Inn to stable, Cepsihir rejoins the party.
Pavanna and Scorpions: the door to the sisters' bedroom opens into the room, but you are able to somewhat secure it with some rope to another door handle in the hall. While you do this, you hear the movement of furniture from within the room; it sounds like the sisters are barricading their door from their side as well.
You all return to the stables and prepare to open the trap door.
Diana lifts the trapdoor by the handle. It opens noiselessly to just past vertical, where a small wooden leg pops out with a "click" to hold it open and in place.
Suddenly, the ceiling of the stall seems to break apart and collapse, dumping a rain of stones, glass jars, and rusty farm implements into the stall! Cepsehir, Diana, and Krystiana are all battered by the falling debris, and a cacophony loud enough to wake the dead echoes throughout the stables and from the space below.
- - half = 8 points
- - full damage = 9 points
- - half = 6 points
Cepsehir manages to twist his body just enough to avoid being beheaded by a falling scythe, while both Diana and Krystiana are pelted with rocks and jagged bits of metal and half-forged tools.
Through the open trap door, you can see a brick-lined shaft which leads into a cellar of some kind, light by torchlight. The floor is hard-packed earth pockmarked with stones, and you can see various odds and ends of furniture, crates and so on piled somewhat haphazardly around. A wooden ladder is attached to the wall by the shaft, its rungs well-worn with use.
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Cepsihir bobs and weaves to the best of his ability, mitigating a potentially lethal trap. The scythe leaves a deep gouge in Cepsihir's back; though not visible to him, the pain proves a potent indicator.
"There is certainly something worth hiding down below."
Cepsihir reflexively reaches for his Wand of Infernal Healing, pausing just before activating it on himself.
Third time today.
"This one needs a moment before we proceed."
Cepsihir excuses himself to the stable-hand's quarters, finding spot to sit. The Wand of Infernal Healing recoils slightly as Cepsihir touches it underneath his left shoulder blade.
Cepsihir closes his eyes and begins humming a Tian lullaby.
POOR CHEPPY, SAVING DWARVES IS HARD WORK! AND WHAT REWARD IS THERE FOR YOU AT THE END OF THIS?
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A LITTLE BIT OF GOLD, A PAT ON THE HEAD, AND SOME NEW REPULSIVE SCARS.
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YOU KNOW THIS ISN'T ANY WAY TO GO THROUGH LIFE. WHAT GOOD ARE YOU TO MURNI DEAD?
You know nothing!
THE SOONER YOU ACCEPT WE ARE MORE ALIKE THAN YOU WISH, THE EASIER YOUR TRANSITION WILL BE.
The transition is over; this one no longer walks those paths.
YOU CRAWL FACE-FIRST ON THE HIGH ROAD AND WONDER WHY YOU STILL SUFFER, WHY MURNI AND YOUR CHILD ARE STILL DESTITUTE.
Things are better!
FOR WHO!? CEPSIHIR THE BEATEN? MURNI THE RE-ABANDONED? THIS CHAOTIC WORLD?
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YOU HAVE A TOOL TO MAKE THINGS BETTER FOR THE ONLY THING THAT MATTERS -- YOU -- AND YOU REFUSE TO UTILIZE IT DUE TO NEW-FOUND MORALS YOUNGER THAN YOUR CHILD.
Why won't you leave!?
BECAUSE YOU WANTED ME HERE TO BEGIN WITH...
Cepsihir's off-tune humming is interrupted by periodic mumbles.
"Mmmmm mmm... hmmm hmm hmmmmmm... you know nothing... mmmm hmmm mm mmmmm... things are better... hmm hmm HMM hmm... WHY WON'T YOU LEAVE!?"
Shocked by his own voice, Cepsihir snaps out of his trance, stands, wipes his face, straightens his outfit, and returns to the group.
"Apologies for the wait." Cepsihir sniffs. "Shall we continue?"
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Krystiana covers her body with her shield shortly after the deluge of shrapnel falls. She got banged up, but it could have been worse. Looking over, Diana and Cepsihir both took a larger brunt of the damage.
"So, apparently they like traps. Anyone good with traps?" Krystiana looks down at her cut and battered arms. "Also, anyone good with healing?"
Ossok pulls a wand from his belt and approaches Diana. "Not all of us sell our souls for every little scratch," he intones from behind his mask. A friendly blue light appears on the wand as he mumbles a word, almost reverently, in a language you don't quite recognize. The radiance grows to encompass Diana, and her bruises and cuts rapidly diminish.
While the injured are tended to, no noise emanates from the trap door. You can still hear a faint ghostly whinny now and again from the near-transparent horse, but you hardly notice it now.
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Cepsihir cups his hands, as if about to dip some water from a stream, and speaks into them.
"Sentuhan dingin."
His hands flash a deep blue several times before stopping at a steady glow.
Cepsihir draws his scimitar.
"Diana, this one will take the lead if you are okay with covering the rear?"
You descend into the cellar without incident. Both of the doors are stout and solid, and the place seems to see occasional if not frequent use. There is little to recommend one door above the other in terms of interest, and the only sounds you can hear are the ghostly whinnies of the illusory stallion above.