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Sifting through the gear, Cyrus hands the blade to Finarin for identification. Once identified, he motions for Ibid to take the blade, despite his inclination towards the bow.
"Could come in handy if there are any aspis agents alive down here..."
He moves back out into the hall. "These spells won't last much longer. Hopefully we can get some good use out of them..."
Cyrus moves down the hall to get a look around the corner.
Cyrus surreptitiously peers down yet another hallway. His goggles make it incredibly hard to see, but when Gunari steps behind him and gives up on closing his eyes, the light from his wayfinder at least makes it possible for Cyrus to notice another beautifully well-made iron doorway to the west and courtyard to the north, including a door at the face of a building on the far side.
In the middle of the courtyard, there is a fountain with a statue of a dwarf in it. For more information, the Pathfinders will need a closer look.
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Cyrus can almost feel the magical clock ticking in his brain. He shuffles down the hall, Gunari and company behind him, and pokes his head into the main courtyard.
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"Quite strange," the old man agrees with the elf, looking the fountain up and down. "It seems eerily out of place..." Ibid pauses his whispered words for a moment to adjust the new longsword at his side, and taking a moment to fully appreciate its intended use, by design... which he finds a comforting thought. Pulling his gaze to again take in his surroundings, the old man looks for any sign of the creature they are searching for.
"I know the clock is ticking, and we are trying to move quickly," he begins in a hushed voice, turning to face the young ninja. "But keep on your guard and refrain from putting yourself in unneeded danger."
His hand holding the bowstring flexes, stretching against the strain and tension Ibid didn't realize was placed upon it. In that moment the old man realized he was waiting for an ambush.
Boldly, the Pathfinders go in for a closer look at the fountain.
At the center of a large fountain, a white marble statue of a dwarf in scholarly robes faces east in a defiant posture. In one hand, the dwarf holds a staff, and in the other an open book. While most of the statue’s elaborate details are still intact, its face has crumbled away, and water pours down from two holes where the statue’s eyes had once been.
They realize, after a brief look, that the crumbling is not decay caused by the passage of time but deliberate vandalism caused by halfling, gnome, wayang, goblin or kobold sized picks (it is impossible to tell which small humanoid species wielded the statue-wrecking picks in question, but shrewd Pathfinders may guess).
Written on the statue is the following text in ancient Dwarven, which the ever-capable Ibid is able to translate:
Home is far behind, our kin scattered to the four winds, but we endure.
Ibid looks around for tracks. However, no unusual tracks may be found here. The stone makes it almost impossible, but some signs of the expected kobold foot traffic can be found.
Feeling exposed, the Pathfinders find themselves furtively looking about
Growing ever more restless and reckless, the impatient rogue flings open another heavy iron door. Almost at the very last moment, he remembers to steel himself for what may lay beyond.
The smell of incense is almost overpowering in this house, where shelves full of jars and vases of different sizes line the walls. Three kobolds lie motionless in stone beds.
Gunari wanders into the room behind Cyrus once the ninja confirms it is safe. The warpriest confirms that the kobolds are indeed dead. Their bodies seem to be alchemically preserved to await burial.
Instantly drawn towards the glass jars, Ibid immediately notices that some of the jars are alchemical in nature. The others, as Gunari assures him, are for religious purposes. Three of the jars in particular are filled with an interesting looking rusty red gel.
After sniffing, swirling and even briefly tasting the brew, Ibid is able to identify the gel as basilisk extract. If rubbed on someone who has been turned to stone by a basilisk within the last hour, it will restore them to their former fleshy self (in exactly the same manner as if the creature were rubbed all over with fresh basilisk blood). The jars, all up, contain enough to restore 3 medium creatures (or 6 small ones).
Everyone is thankful for the investigator's alchemical bent!
Ibid and Miro put their heads together to try to recall what they know of basilisks.
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Cyrus nods at the warpriests suggestion, and moves to another room in the area.
At least we know what it is now... Though the amount of preperation for a basalisk here seems odd. I wonder if it is an escaped pet... I wonder if this gel will work on the statue out front?
Slightly less worried about the long term prospects of becoming a stone statue, Cyrus moves with more urgency, in light of the expiring spell durations.
-Posted with Wayfinder
As the Pathfinders enter this room, Ibid and Finarin think they might hear a soft hissing from the west, but the noise of their comrades quickly becomes louder anything they may otherwise have been hearing. Nothing shows itself, and everyone seems to be in a hurry, so they turn their attention to the room.
A stone pillar bearing numerous lines of runic text stands amid pieces of stone furniture and heaps of miscellaneous junk.
Gunari once again reveals more than is immediately apparent about this room: it used to be an infirmary. Ibid and Miro study the walls, which have been covered in surprisingly artistic paintings of dragons (no doubt a kobold ode to their former masters and likely progenitors). It seems, however, that the original inscriptions are still at least partially legible. Miro is stumped, but Ibid's superior knowledge of Dwarven inscriptions helps him to determine that the writing is a series of Dwarven names followed by dates. However, the calendar used must be completely different from Absalom Reckoning (or else they would be far, far into the future). The interval for the dates suddenly becomes much shorter about halfway down.
Kaisharga slithers slightly less than silently to the western corridor. It peers around the corner to the north and then the south...
... before its scales rapidly begin changing to match the hue of the surrounding stonework. It slows, creaks, almost crumbles and tries to cry out. Suddenly, cruelly, Kaisharga is frozen in place - unable to even whimper a warning or farewell to its master.
An ominous hissing may now be heard by all, coming from the south of the western corridor.
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"Kaisharga!" the old man cries out in a hushed whisper, looking to Amaranti. His knobby, aged fingers tighten on the bow and he readies to pull back the knocked arrow. "This is it... It must know we're here now... avert your eyes if you don't have goggles."
The old man prepares to follow his goggled allies around the corner into the danger.
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"No!"
Cyrus swallows the large lump in his throat hard as he sees the snake turn into solid stone. He isn't sure if the lump is there due to fear for himself, or sadness for the serpentine companion, but he doesn't give himself any time to figure it out. Goggles donned, he reaches deep inside his inner reserves and vanishes from sight. Once invisible, he heads back the way they came to hopefully catch the wretched creature in between the hammer and anvil that is this incredibly effective group of friends.
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Seeing the eidolon turn to stone, Cyrus vanishes from sight, then breaks around the corner, deftly stepping around the immovable serpent. Though it cannot be seen, his blade is out and ready. He silently curses and praises the goggles, knowing that they will prevent him from striking the precise blows he is so good at, but will also prevent him from turning into a stone statue as well. Hopefully...
Amaranti dismisses Kaisharga that his companions might have a better go at attacking the creature who turned his eidolon to stone. Rather than the usual smoke and light show, the statue of Kaisharga disappears in a blast of dust particles.
As Cyrus rounds the bend, he gets the first good look at this creature they've been foolishly trying to find rather than avoid.
Just as he is about to step fully into the corridor, the hissing gets louder. It is a sound that a cat might make in order to seem more frightening. Shrugging off the effects of its piercing gaze, Cyrus views it through the smokey haze of his goggles. It appears to be an enormous, six foot long green lizard. This one is particularly fat, no doubt from a steady diet of incautious kobolds and surprised intruders. Oddly, the creature has a collar, such as a domesticated dog might wear, around its neck. The basilisk makes no move to attack, or any hostile gesture other than the hissing (and its terrible gaze).
As the ninja decides what to do, Miro comes around to the north of him, singing a rousing tune and seeming not to care for his lack of ocular protection.
Miro is treated to the same view that Cyrus was, but without the smokey haze. The plump basilisk's skin is bright green, and it seems to be hunkering down while still making that sharp hissing noise.
Miro feels certain that this behavior is very strange for a basilisk. From what he's heard, they would normally have attacked immediately - and certainly wouldn't give away their position by hissing. It seems to be warning the Pathfinders away, rather than threatening them as such.
The terrible consequences of its gaze, however, remain fixed in everyone's mind - even though the petrified form of poor Kaisharga is no longer present as a physical reminder.
Gunari also pushes close to the basilisk and is treated to the same view his friends were. The basilisk continues hissing and, if anything, the hissing intensifies as the warpriest comes into view.
Gunari also gets the sense that the basilisk is warning them off in a non-aggressive way. Gunari is reminded of when he was first training Gilligan and the monkey would throw his feces at those he didn't trust when they "invaded" his territory (or even just his personal space).
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"Guys, is the thing chained? Guys, back off a moment. I have an idea.
"Cyrus, why don't you lend me your goggles there. I'd like you to stay clear of the fight for now, since it appears we're going to be in a bit of a bind. Amaranti, the two of us should move up, and attack the thing... but first, you summon something like an earth elemental behind it. I'll take point, and you can attack from behind me with your lance. Miro, if you can keep inspiring us, and perhaps give me heroism first, that'd be great.
"Finarin, Ibid, and Miro, why don't you three hold back, as a reserve?
If the group agrees to this, Gunari will cast Bull's Strength on himself as well.
"It is odd, though. Who would chain up a basilisk?"
Finarin comes out and tries to calm the creature down by using soothing tones and soothing words in a language it recognizes. The elf is unsure of whether or not the creature even understands it...
... but it seems to work. While it still remains wary of the others, it perks up at Finarin's words. It even pants a little like a dog as the elf speaks. It hisses again at anyone else who tries to close in... but seems to welcome any forward motions from Finarin.
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Cyrus cocks his invisible head sideways at the response of the lizard.
It IS a pet! Ha! The next question is... Who do you belong to?
At the prospect of this being a tamed beast, Cyrus is far less apt to strike out at the creature, however is still unwilling to relinquish his goggles.
He stays behind the corner and waits for this to play out.
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Continuing to advance towards the lizard, Finarin continues to speak in Draconic, attempting to get close enough to grab its collar, or somehow cover its eyes.
"Veniți ... animal maiestuos. Să ne găsim stăpânul tău, așa că am ... putea pune sabie mea in inima lui"
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An idea leaps into Cyrus' brain as he watches Finarin masterfully handle this animal.
The open door was his room! HA! Without hesitation, Cyrus sprints back to the room to grab the odd toy that was in there, and runs back to where Finarin is soothing the animal.
He whispers, and hands the toy to the elf, "Use this, lure it back to the room with the open door..."
"Everyone else, get out of eyesight! I will follow Finarin in case something goes wrong... but it won't go wrong, don't worry brother..."
Luckily for Finarin, the Basilisk does not actually understand draconic.
Finarin moves carefully up to the basilisk, trying to figure out how to get it to shut its eyes. As he gets closer, the creature gives him a lick which causes the elf to lose his cool and he can't manage to bring himself to even try to get it to close its eyes for now.
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"On second thought... Just tell me what to say, I will lure it back..."
Cyrus does his best to imitate Finarin's draconic style. He was well versed in several languages, but Draconic was quite odd compared to the flowing desert languages he spoke. He waves the chew toy towards the lizard, trying his best to focus on the lizard's tail instead of its face, hoping that his peripheral vision, though clouded by the goggles, will que him in to the lizard's actions.
Repeating the last thing he heard him say, which is the only sounds that are still in his memory, "putea pune sabie mea in inima lui... putea pune sabie mea in inima lui... putea pune sabie mea in inima lui"
I hope I am saying something flattering to this creature...