"That was... disgusting. I pray we don't find anymore such troubles down here." Seeing everyone else searching around the long abandoned campsite, she speaks up again, "I will head a little further down and see if there's anything else. I won't be too far, and I might be able to spot trouble before it spots us."
Keeping her rapier drawn, she then crouches down and hugs a wall, trying to stick to the shadows as much as possible and moving slowly and quietly.
In addition to the torn bedroll, Baradesh and Verene find three candle stubs, a bent fishhook, 10 feet of badly frayed hemp rope, and a copper brooch depicting a bat perched on a mushroom - both of the bat's eyes are tiny amethysts.
-
Sylvia scouts ahead just at the edge of the light. She can't see anything dangerous down the hall, but it's difficult to make out the breadth and contents of the resulting cavern.
Somewhat belatedly, Verene once more uses a word and gesture to expand her senses to encompass the distinct 'hum' given off by magic and magicked items. She examines the found items and the rest of the pile for magic or its traces, then turns to set everything down before the others.
"Three candle stubs. That reminds me, anyone who has no light source of their own should take a candle, in case we are separated." She lays her four remaining white tapers with the three stubs from the campsite. Any that are unclaimed, she will replace in her pack. "Some badly frayed rope. I might be able to mend this as well, but like the bedroll, it must wait until we stop properly, to rest. My cantrip for repair is rather slow. Can you carry them until then, Sir Baradesh?"
"Next, a bent fishhook. Not useful to us at present, but a hopeful sign. Water will swiftly become our most pressing need." She worries it between her fingers absently, attempting to bend it back into shape without cutting herself. "And some kind of... brooch, made of copper, in the shape of a bat with amethyst eyes perched on a mushroom. Does anyone recognize the symbol? If it was important enough to use semiprecious stones in the design..."
Verene places the worth of the brooch somewhere in the range of 160GP-240GP based on the commodity of the amethysts and the detail of the design. If it has some symbolic meaning, it's lost on her, as she can't seem to recall any information on what this design may mean.
|
"I would say you hit it in just the right place, Sir Baradesh! We are most fortunate to have such an able warrior with us." Xantrius states with admiration.
When Verene expresses her concern, he replies, "I have a full waterskin, but we will need to sip cautiously to make it last until we find another source. Please, let me know if you are in need of a drink." The last sentence is addressed to all, the two wounded in particular.
As Sylvia once again runs off on her own, he moves to follow, staying between her and the rest of the group. He tries to stay far enough away so that he will not give away her presence, but close enough to come to her aid.
Nodding to Verene, Baradesh murmured, "Nae problem, lady - they can be repaired at camp. Nae idea as to the batty beast, though." He glanced over at Aravashnial. "Mayhap friend mage will know?" The bulky Paladin loaded the items into his backpack and hefts it to his shoulders again. bouncing it for a moment to make sure the load shifted into a stable position before he considered movement.
The Dwarf looked over at Xandrius. "'Twas more luck than skill, I fear. A sword be a fine weapon, but when it lands just right the axe makes a mess of most anything. 'Twas not something I can replicate every blow, alas." The Paladin looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, "Still, a fine strike and a excellent way to begin this tale."
Making sure he faced Anarya, he shook his head. "Nae injuries, just much cleaning." He considered a moment. "Do ye know a spell to create water? I've seen some Clerics cast such a thing."
Once everyone starts moving towards her, Sylvia nods to Xantrius and begins to edge closer down the hall to the larger cavern she can just barely make out at the edge of her vision . She continues to stay just ahead of the light and to make use of her ability to sniff out her opponents.
|
|
Anarya shakes her head in response to Baradesh's question. "Alas, I am no cleric. I was raised among the Sisterhood of the Inheritor, and count Iomedae as my patron, but my powers come not from prayer. I merely have the power of healing - and my light, which brings into view that which is hidden, whether by darkness or magic." She smiles, the halo of light around her brightening in response like the sun emerging from behind a cloud.
Anevia describes the brooch to Aravashnial and lets him feel it for himself. He shakes his head though, and admits he is also unfamiliar with the design.
As Sylvia scouts ahead of the party, her nose picks up on another creature in the room.
However, it also smells and hears her approaching. Sylvia can see a snake in the cavern rearing up and hissing as she approaches.
|
|
When Xantrius hears the hissing, he charges forward until he escapes the circle of light. As he passes Sylvia, he stays just ahead and to the left of her so he will not obstruct her view should she wish to attack at range. Once his eyes have adjusted to the dark, he eyes the snake and waves his sword to gain its attention.
"Come, serpent, I shall give you a meal you will not soon forget!"
Anevia hears Xantrius clanking hurriedly up ahead and is alerted to the commotion. She moves up to see what is amiss.
-
The agitated snake slithers forward and is able to smell that Xantrius is nearby. It bites at the paladin, but is unable to meet flesh in the darkness.
-
Horgus follows Anevia up with the light so that she can see what is going on.
-
Aravashnial follows up behind Anevia as well, since she is his guide.
Sylvia sighs to herself, "Dammit, Syl. Now you're just being clumsy."
She then shouts back to the rest of the group behind her, "We've got more wildlife up here! At least one snake, but I can't see any others!"
She then ducks her shoulder and weaves around to the opposite side of the agitated snake, hoping to confuse it to flank with Xantrius.
Hopefully making it past without being bitten, she then lunges with her rapier from the opposite side of Xantrius, striking from the snake's blind spot.
Sylvia's strike is true, and she punctures its tail! It hisses in pain, becoming even more agitated and violent.
While the others examine the mushroom brooch, Verene repacks her candles and retrieves the bolt that she did not see shatter against the wall, replacing it in her crossbow. When it seems clear no one can identify the design, she says, "A mystery, then. On the surface, I think it might be a fairly valuable piece - perhaps worth 160 or more gold martyrs." She moves out with the others, resting one hand once more on the stock of her crossbow.
At the edge of the cavern, Verene hesitates, looking at the collapsed pile of rubble, and suppresses the impulse to apologize. Whoever stayed here is likely dead. They have moved on to whatever awaits them, and will not hear. But still the old prayer comes unbidden to her mind. Pass unto us thy earthly burdens, as we shall pass ours in our time, and rise to your place of peace in the sun, the reward of righteous souls.
---
At Sylvia's shout of impending trouble, Verene hurries to keep up with the light and the others. The sight of the giant snake menacing Xantrius makes her shudder and say, "The creatures down here seem to be unusually aggressive," but she raises her bow again with determination. An odd, split-second image of herself missing the snake while firing at this exact angle is blinked away, and she lowers her sights by a hair.
Verene's bolt skewers the snake, and it goes limp. It's still breathing, but is very obviously out of commission.
-
Several mounds of rock lie in heaps in this cavern, recently fallen from the walls and ceiling. Now and then, bits of dust settle from cracks in the stone above.
"I dinnae know," Baradesh replied facing Anarya, "And I dinnaee think we ought to hang aboot and find out. Let's skedaddle." It was probably buried deep in the soul of every Dwarf since time began and Torag had placed them underground that it was a bad idea to hang around in a unstable cave, and Baradesh trusted his innate Dwarfness enough to head for the over side, past the still twitching snake. Still, he couldn't help but scan the room anything of interest.
Sylvia, looking up now and suddenly feeling a little claustrophobic, whispers in a hushed tone, "I pray to Desna it is..."
She then moves off to the opening of the eastern tunnel, hiding behind the corner and peering down it, hoping she doesn't see anymore critters down that way, "I think this passage takes us away from these caverns! I don't know where, exactly, but it has to be better than here, yeah?"
Verene blinks in surprise as the bolt flies true and the snake drops to the ground, her hands already in the process of pulling the string back and reloading. Despite its attack on Xantrius, she can't help but feel sorry for the creature. First the ground shaking and moving without warning, then large strangers invading its cavern home. Any animal might lash out under such circumstances. "Poor thing."
"Not poor. Hungry. Hungry monster," says a small but emphatic voice beside her ear. Thamyris has very decided Opinions about snakes. He had frozen upon seeing this one; since it was exactly what she had wanted to do, Verene finds it hard to blame him. Quietly she says, "It was only trying to survive, just like us. If I knew how to prepare possibly-venomous snake safely, I would say we should take it for food, but..."
"Joking." Thamyris's voice is reproachful; she can feel his trembling at the thought of having to get any closer even to the snake's body, much less travel with it. Verene strokes his ruffled feathers in apology and casts an apprehensive eye at the perhaps-shifting rock of the ceiling. "We've no time to collect it anyway - if Sir Baradesh says to hurry, we hurry."
"Can I be of help at all, Master Aravashnial, Lady Tirabade?" Returning to the others, she concentrates on helping Anevia and Aravashnial move through the cavern as fast as possible, though it means slinging the crossbow across her back again for now and trusting Thamyris to alert her to any danger. She follows behind Sylvia and Xantrius, trying to stay at approximately the center of the light and keep Xantrius's somber armor just in sight.
|
|
Xantrius stands startled for a moment after Sylvia and Verene easily dispatch the serpent. It seems that he does not have to worry about the safety of any of his companions as they have proven themselves to be quite capable in battle.
A triffle ashamed of his own poor showing so far, he quickly hurries ahead to lead the way.
With one arm tucked into Aravashnial's and the other supporting Anevia around the waist, Verene glances back at the limp body of the snake, and sternly tells herself that this is no time for sentiment. We can worry about wildlife once people are safe. Still... She tugs Anarya's sleeve.
"Do you think it will live?" she wonders out loud.
While the cave may look unstable, it weathered the disasters above quite well and is in no real danger of collapse. The passage Sylvia points out is dark and winding, and seems to go on for quite a while. If the party moves forward, it takes roughly 25 minutes to reach the end of it, resulting in Sylvia returning to her usual form along the way. The tunnel results in a junction. To the left (north) is a five-foot wide passage that emanates a soft but nasty looking green light. To the right (south) the tunnel appears to continue onward in the new direction.
"Could light of this greenish color be natural? It looks... unhealthy. What do you think, Master Aravashnial?" Verene slowly shifts her crossbow to a more ready position as she describes it to him and comes up directly in front of the northbound tunnel to peer down it as far as she or Thamyris can see. "Ostendo."
Back with the group and in the light now that she's in her normal form, Sylvia looks surprised at Verene's question, and whispers to her, "Did you just ask the man who can't see if the green light looks unhealthy?"
Sylvia tries to blend into what little shadows there are, moving slowly to the north, hoping to find the source of the green light.
Ambling along at the back in his usual rearguard position, Baradesh called out, "I dinnae suppose there be a chance that it's just a wee touch of cave mold, is there? There's some kinds that glow in the dark places. 'Tis usually harmless enough. Some of it makes a fine wee salad, my mama used to make that."
The Paladin sighed slightly. Corpse eating somethings on landing, demons above, snakes and roaches below. What were the chances it was something as simple as cave moss? He hefted his recently cleaned axe and shield and shook his head, expecting to have to get them messy again soon.
"I meant more to ask if the phenomenon of green light with no easily apparent source seemed as though it could be natural or not, or if it sounded similar to anything in his experience," Verene murmurs to Sylvia. "I have never heard of this cave mold Sir Baradesh mentioned, for instance."
The passage seems to be lit by a glowing green moss. Aravashnial agrees with Baradesh's observation to confirm it. As the party peers through the passage, they can see the contents of the large cavern. Verene does not detect any magic.
A single sizable 20-foot-tall building remains in the center of this 30-foot-high cave, a bunkerlike structure with no windows and walls of worked stone blocks. A 10-foot-long carving of a hammer decorates the building's facade. The ruins of collapsed outbuildings stand to either side.
Moss. Baradesh smiled and shook his head. It was nice to have pessimism turning out to be nothing much of anything for once. "'Tis a shame me mama never showed me which of those mosses were tasties and which were not. Woulda made a tasty wee addition to the supplies."
The bulky Dwarf turned his attention to the building. From what he could see of it the place would be easy to defend. A good place to rest, assuming it was safe. They'd have to check it out, and maybe work out how to secure the entrance while they continued to explore to make sure nothing moved in while they were gone, but it could serve as a reasonable fallback position.
He looked at the hammer symbol and considered it a moment.
Sylvia motions for the others to stay and creeps up to the door and examines it for any traps and to see if it is locked.
If the way is clear and the door unlocked, she'll motion to the others to follow. If the door is trapped and/or locked, she'll try to disable both before motioning the others forward.
"Let us hope it does not come to guessing at your mother's recipe." Verene waits where Sylvia indicated, but warns, "I sense no magic here, but there could still be some inside the building, if the walls are thick enough to hide it from me."
Her eyes light upon the graven symbol and she lets out a slow breath, remembering. A high and craggy hold with its bustling city beneath: every line beautiful in its clean and solid symmetry, every face alive with belonging and purpose, and everywhere the hammer of the god they believed had crafted them in his image. Torag. Forgefather.
She glances at Baradesh. Surely he recognizes...? But in a city as young and jumbled as Kenabres, it did not behoove one to assume based on appearance. Verene clears her throat, nominally in reply to Xantrius. "Yes. Or at least that there was such a way at one time. I believe that hammer is a symbol of Torag. Perhaps a dwarf built this place?"
Xantrius and Verene easily recognize the symbol as that of the deity Torag. The realization that this building is an abandoned temple to a lawful good deity stirs Anevia's memories of her wife, Irabeth. Anevia grows despondent, but tries to conceal her sudden depression by complaining that her leg is bothering her more than usual and that she needs to rest on the bench for a bit. Horgus mutters that Anevia is "slowing them down" and that perhaps the group needs to split up-implying that perhaps it's best to leave her behind and abandon her to her fate. Anevia explodes, saying she's not surprised that a man afraid to acknowledge his own faith wouldn't be moved by a forgotten temple like this, and that to be ashamed of one's faith is as bad as worshiping demons. Horgus is a bit taken aback by her outburst, but then contemptuously remarks on the irony of being chided by someone who (he believes) has been known to consort with thieves. Anevia falls into black, silent anger at this, her eyes narrowing as she draws upon inspiration from her memories of Irabeth to resist escalating the argument.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The bulky Paladin moves between the two fighting humans. True, they could simply argue over the Dwarves head, but that would be awfully rude. "Ah dinnae know what this is about," Baradesh said as he stood between the two, "And I care not. This is nae place to be fighting with each other! And before the sight of the Father of Creation! Ah may be a servant of Iomadae, but respect for Torag is always wise. We are deep beneath the earth, and He has not time for squabbling by my memory."
The Paladin turned to Horgus. "The Lady has walked with us on a broken leg with nae complaint, worried sick about her wife above in a demon infested city. Do you have kin? Do you nae worry? A moment of weakness is mortal, sir, nae slowing us down."
Then Baradesh turned to Anevia. "I have nae idea as to why someone would choose to hide there worship. I am a Paladin - I proudly and humbly wear my Goddess' mark above my own. But if he is not a devotee of something such as the Rough Beast or the Lord of the Pit, or one of the beasts assaulting above right now, then he has a right to worship as he chooses, in private or public, and ye and I have no place in mocking how he does it. Not everyone is comfortable in sharing there faith as I do."
Looking around at both, he added, "I know this is not good. Our city is under attack, everyone and everything we care of above while we are trapped here, beneath it all. But now is no time to fight each other. You two seem to know each other somehow, and like each not much. No one asks you like each other. But we need your help and, as you've seen, there is foulness here as above. Together we are stronger than apart, and our chance of surviving best if we work as a group."
Horgus looks taken aback by Baradesh's intervention. Looking solemnly at his feet, he knew the dwarf's words were true. There seemed to be something more, though. A certain kind of distant sadness at the mention of family. He quickly shrugged it away, donning his usual arrogance. "Fine, but if it comes down to a quick escape, she'd best keep up, because I'm not slowing down to get eaten by snakes or roaches or anything else in this blasted hole."
-
Anevia is similarly surprised by Baradesh's peacemaking and looks quite embarrassed as she realizes the merit of his words. "You're right, it's not my place to judge one's worship. Even a coward has his place down here, it seems. I didn't mean to offend you, Sir Baradesh, or this holy place. I could only hold my temper with him so much. I worry for Irabeth, and all those above."
The Paladin nodded to both. Looking to Horgus, he added "I dinnae fancy ending us a beastie's snack either. But if it comes to it, I can and shall run from this place with ye both on my back, and friend Xantrius under me arm to make sure all keep up. My oath as a Paladin - I dinnae leave any ally behind. So Iomadae has heard me speak, and so shall I do."
Glancing over at Anevia, he nodded. "Aye, tempers get a wee bit frayed at the edges in situations like this. I cannae lie and say for certain your wife lives, but I can remind ye she is trained in the arts of demon extermination. She is a Paladin, fighting with other Paladins, nae some grocer who prays a horseshoe can keep him safe. If ye care to place a wager, I'd wager she lives, and waits to dine with ye in finery." The Dwarf grinned. "If ye count clothes made of steel and rivets as finery, as all wise Dwarfs do."
"Now," the Paladin added as he headed towards the temple, "Let us see what bounty my people have left for us."
|
|
Xantrius stands in awe as Baradesh finishes his speech. As the group starts looking around the temple, he maneuvers to speak to the dwarf quietly.
"That was one of the best examples of peacemaking I have seen since my mother managed to get the two leading merchants in our hometown to sit down and talk after a decades-long feud. I was particularly touched by your words to Horgus."
He is silent for a moment, struggling with himself. Finally he continues, barely in a whisper.
"I, too, have difficulty professing my true faith. While I wear the symbol of Pharasma and I do offer her my prayers in battle, my true allegiance, the faith of my mother, I have trouble speaking aloud. I thank you for your kind understanding and hope one day to have the courage to openly declare myself without fear of ridicule."
He then hurries over to join Sylvia at the door, managing to regain his composure along the way.
Sylvia Perception = 19
As Sylvia tries the door, she finds it is not locked, but stuck. She and Xantrius hear a buzzing coming closer quickly overhead. A giant flying insect lands next to Sylvia, its multifaceted eyes reflecting her face in each small pane. It looks aggressive and possibly hungry.
vs.
Taken aback by the sudden explosion of the simmering tension between the two human refugees, Verene looks between them in dismay and seems on the verge of trying to intervene. As Baradesh physically steps in, however, the worried line between her brows relaxes in relief, and she steps back slightly. She listens silently but with growing admiration as the stocky dwarf kindly but firmly lays down the law. Masterful. I almost feel I should be taking notes.
When he has said his piece and the combatants backed down, she adds simply, "No one gets left behind. Injured or not, crusader or not. I should not think an oath necessary, when what is right is also only sensible, but you have my word as well, by which I must prosper or perish." After a considering pause, she seems to come to a decision, and goes on in the resigned tone of someone who has had to make a similar argument many times: "Lady Tirabade, not sharing the faith of the majority does not make one a lesser person; indeed, such folk who remain so close to the border willingly place themselves in equal danger with the most pious civilian, as we have all seen today -- and do so without a divine mandate or any holy protection to call upon. Whatever one might say of their wisdom, they -- we -- do not deserve the epithet 'coward.'"
Syvlia groans as the fly lands next to her, "Great, more giant bugs." She then moves to the side, draws her rapier, and lunges at the flank of the large fly.
Sylvia strikes the fly, piercing its side! It turns in aggression towards her and tries to bite her.
Sylvia is easily able to dodge out of the way of its mouth, however.
The horrid buzzing raises the hairs on the back of Verene's neck, but she strains in vain to catch more than a glimpse of the massive insect over Xantrius's and Sylvia's shoulders. The crossbow in her hand is worse than useless under such circumstances , so instead she moves right and prepares to fire if the insect comes around the corner of the building. "A giant fly has attacked Sir Xantrius and Miss Sylvia around the corner of this building. Space is tight, so it may be best to hold your spells for now and fall back," she reports to Aravashnial She raises her voice to be heard over the fly. "Sir Xantrius, Miss Sylvia, it would be tactically advantageous to draw it out of that corner towards us if you can, while we fall back to a place where we can bottleneck it." She has little hope, however, that Xantrius will be willing to draw its dangerous attention to anywhere but himself.
Horgus shudders and asks nervously "You're going to lead that thing right toward us? I'm getting out of the way, then!" He runs behind Verene for protection.
-
"Aravashnial, follow Gwerm!" Anevia shouts. "I'll hold here with Verene, get to where it's safer!"
-
Aravashinal nods and follows Horgus' steps as instructed.
The fly easily maneuvers around Xantrius' attack. Its wings flutter angrily in response.