After catching their breath a moment, the party continues at a more measured pace. No longer rushing to stay ahead of the tide, they notice that the ceilings are black with smoke marks, betraying that, at one time at least, the tunnel was frequently traversed by torch-bearing parties. Here above the tide-line, cobwebs have accumulated overhead and gravel and detritus underfoot.
Gristav wishes Bolbo ahead, sincere in the intent, but also skeptic, and watching for success.
If that fails, he gestures.
In the interests of stealth, he does not command.
The butterfly flutters forward into the darkness.
"We should be wary. I surmise, judging by the errant cobwebs, that this place is not nearly as in use as we thought. There may be more denizens that we should avoid." Tendal says quietly to his companions, boots crunching on the gravel.
Looking around, "Suit makes a good point. The last we thing we need to deal with is more man-eating lobsters." Snake then notices the wounds on Braddon and lays a healing hand upon his shoulder.
"There you go, bub. Try to fix you up a bit anyway. Unfortunately it doesn't work more than once a day for the same person for some reason. No idea why," he says, shrugging.
Snake takes a deep breath and turns to Braddon, "You owe me for those daggers, bub," he says, with an absolute stone cold look. Although, there is somewhat of a possible wry smile that seems to crack said visage.
"Add it to my tab. And the healing. Thanks."
Braddon rubs the fading cuts and grins."The tunnel opens up ahead. I'll check it out. Stay quiet."
Braddon moves ahead carefully, light on his feet and close to the wall.
Braddon advances cautiously toward the cavern at the end of the tunnel. Even to his elven vision, the faint glow from the arcane lights of the party behind him doesn't illuminate much past the opening, but it is clearly a larger space than the narrow tunnel, smooth, worked walls opening out on either side and above him. Unable to use his vision, he holds his breath and depends a moment on his other senses.
You hear a faint sound of surf, coming somehow from somewhere to the right and high above you -- perhaps a shaft leading to the surface? There's no hint of light, but if it is nighttime outside and the shaft comes up in a sea cave like the one you entered by, there might not be. You detect no sounds of movement nor any other sign that the cave is occupied.
Braddon soon returns.
"All dark ahead. Nothing to see. But sounds like a way out above."
"All forward and back above ground for the moment? - catch bearings if naught else?"
"Aye, but only eyes aboveground, and just one of us. Let's not all stand silhouette on some hill, until we know _which_ hill."
Nodding, Phil rubs his hands and prepares to move forwards "I'll ascend and make ready... give me a minute then send the dancing lights up after?"
"You got it, bub."
Tendal nods his assent, then takes out one of his remaining scrolls of grease and keeps it at the ready.
Nodding, Phil rubs his hands and prepares to move forwards "I'll ascend and make ready... give me a minute then send the dancing lights up after?"
Bolbo (and his Darkvision) alight on Phillip's shoulder, offering Guidance.
Phillip advances quietly up the tunnel, doing his best to stay in the shadows but knowing that if anything lives in the cave it can likely see in the dark anyway. He hopes that his trust in Braddon's keen senses to have detected anything lurking in the darkness isn't misplaced.
Snake moves his arcane lights up cautiously, hoping to light the way ahead for the halfling without illuminating him as a target.
The floating orbs touch on a few objects in the room: a table and chair, a cot, a tall metal stand arched like a shepherd's hook. Against the wall is what looks like a large, rusty lobster cage; inside it is slumped a body....
An insistent hiss comes from further down the passageway imploring "Come up, slow and steady"
Snake heeds the halfling's instructions and follows them; doing what he can to make as little noise as possible.
Tendal follows Snake, moving slowly and quietly up the incline, attempting to make sure each boot is placed as carefully as possible.
Braddon pads quietly forward, one hand on his sheathed shortsword.
Gristav, the tail of the beast, advances to join his fellows, care in his step and a waggish grin on his face.
The party quietly moves out of the tunnel and into a round room, like the base of a turret. The arcane lights reveal a table and chair, a cot, and a tall metal stand arched like a shepherd's hook. Phillip is standing near what looks like a large, rusty lobster cage, inside of which is a slumped body.
Phillip looks cagey and a glance t'wards his hackles would notice them raised. Gesturing at the cage with his bared blade he notes "It's Saul... Serpe can you see him back to eyes open and tongue waggling?" inquiring if Snake could use his eldritch ways to salve evident hurt.
"Do we serve him better by not? By leaving no sign, and lying in wait? And yes, while I would not let slip his survival, his comfort is less important to me, than vengeance for Larur, and Braddon's granmere. And once speaking, his order will be, his release."
"As long as he's napping we stand here filthy, wet, bloodied and in the dark... I'm for at the least shedding some light." shrugging before tossing out a coda "But if you're all for using a crippled, imprisoned and beaten man solely as means to vengeance... perhaps you'd be better in service of this than I" retrieving his wooden holy symbol from under sodden cloth and gesturing.
"Ah. Tactics." Tendal said dryly. "I am totally opposed to leaving him here, but I am unapposed to finding some way to determine what part Vancaskerkin had in his own downfall, and the disappearance of Larur."
"More importantly, what lies further past this chamber? Are we alone? Should we have a lookout?" Tendal asks.
Now that the light sources are all in the round room, it can be seen that there are no other doors in the circular wall than the opening by which the party entered -- but in the ceiling, some fifteen feet above, is a trap door. Unfortunately, there appears to be no ladder by which to reach it.
Snake listens to the conversation before making his way to Saul's cage, reaching in and touching the man's arm. He then steps back and waits, wondering if he's even alive. As he waits to see what happens, he looks up. "Now where do you suppose that leads?" He then glances all around. Seeing no ladder, "Rope ladder from up top," he surmises.
Phillip nods a wordless thanks to Snake before agreeing with his thoughts "Seems like, though I'm not sure what benefit a bolt hole like this has when you can enter from below as we have..." looking around to see if there are signs of whether the sea makes it quite this far up at highest of high tide...
As he continues to look up toward the trap door, "Yeah it doesn't really make a lot of sense, does it?" Unable to figure it out why, he turns his attention back to the caged tavern owner. "If need be, I'm fairly certain I can get up there and check it out. I don't know why or how but a part of me feels like I can fly up there. Maybe not fly. Maybe float. Not real sure," he states plainly, curious if he might have noticed the fat man stirring or was it just his eyes playing tricks on him.
"Leaving him no worse, to better make better...", Gristav began to soflty explain. "Perhaps only archers learn that arrows, barbed, are sometime best left in wound. Tactics, as Magnus observed. But we're past that moment."
"Yes, Mister Kane. You fall slowly. You might rise. Try thinking cheerful thoughts. But if it's a limited resource, marshal it for now. Bundling this-", Gristav wanded his staff at Saul, then toward the trapdoor, "-to there, might need that gift. A ladder of ropes promises comedy, if not tragedy."
"As for the space, it may have been made by Nature, not man. And explored with tide high, and so thought secured by water and monster. We have a chance of surprise. The crook-staff, there, you may find seed on the floor, for the bird that travels with our quarry."
Phillip only has a focus on Saul... waiting to see if sign of life becomes shown.
Saul groans weakly, tries to move, is restrained by the cage. "What...?" he stammers in confusion, clearly disoriented by the return to consciousness.
"Good Evening Mr. Vankaskerkin." Tendal says dryly, leaning on his cane. "Before you make a request, know that we have not yet procured a method of extraction from your imprisonment, we have only recently arrived."
"Please focus on telling us what you recall of you coming here and your imprisonment, that we might elucidate some clues."
Softly, but with an edge of steel to his voice Phillip implores "Start with the Goblin's second night of trade... and take care to not leave anything out."
"I...," he squints into the bright arcane lights in the otherwise dark room. "Bojasc! It was Bojasc. Don't trust him! He's not here, is he?"
Recalling Serpe and his interrogation of Bojasc's stripped room, Phillip responds "No... its just us." his demeanour requesting that Saul continue with his story.
"It was Bojasc ... he killed Larur ... I'm sorry, lad; he's dead," his bleary eyes seek out Gristav for a moment. "Killed him right in front of me ... he was asking questions about the money. I didn't know he was working for her! Never suspected she'd turned him...."
Phillip keeps quiet, allowing space and time for Gristav take in the words, bathe in them and feel... though he keeps wary eye to ensure that emotions don't become actions t'ward Saul.
"Half breeds. You can't trust them," Braddon chimes in helpfully. He scratches his pointed ear.
"So, I can kill Bojasc then? After he tells us everything, of course."
Snake cuts his eyes toward Gristav before turning his attention toward Braddon as he speaks and then back to Saul. "What else you got, bub? Any idea where 'her' and her pet gorilla might have gone?"
Without Phillip's awareness of the tension in the air, the disoriented Saul continues to ramble, "Damned fool thing to do! I could have talked him around. I was that shocked when he delivered the blow. Then he told me.... I thought he was still guarding my body, but she had set him to watching me to make sure I didn't let her secret out. From my bodyguard to my prison warden ... he wouldn't leave me alone a minute for fear I'd tell you...."
"What else you got, bub? Any idea where 'her' and her pet gorilla might have gone?"
"Devil's Elbow with Captain Grudge," he replies helpfully. "That's where she's heading at any rate, to pick up the rewards of her investment. Hers, and mine, and Larur's, and that damned scribe Weatherby as well, from the sound of it. Had us all feeding her coin, but she's the only one reaping the profit."
"Actually, I doubt she's taken Bojasc," he frowns muzzily. "Two lovers on one ship isn't a recipe for smooth sailing. That's right. He's planning to sell me to Clegg Zincher for revenge." He chuckles wryly. "Revenge without Shorafa's even hand standing between between us."
As threads of the conspiracy are cast out and drift through the air, Phillip seeks to play mental seamstress and weave a tapestry from them. His brow furrows as he realises that he does not yet have all of the colours he needs to make the picture play. Questions burn... but he yet waits for Gristav to enter the conversation and add words before he marks the air with his own.
Tendal mein becomes as flat and grey as the waters under the Irespan. "You sir, are a coward and a fool." the words dripping from his lips to spatter on the floor like acid.
"You seem to have tried exceptionally hard to extricate yourself from your predicament",sarcasm cutting like ice. "A predicament that could have been solved simply by trusting some around you. Instead a good man is dead, you are imprisoned and the wealth of several is ghosting away due to your fear and foolishness."
"The saddest part is that you are both brilliantly creative and bold. However you lack the wisdom to temper that boldness, and to trust in others. I believe our association has run its course."
A minute smile creases the warlock's lips. "Suit's got you there, bub. And the Devil's Elbow? That can't be good. And if the gorilla plans on selling you out, that means he'll be back. Don't suppose he happened to mention when he'd be back for you, did he?"
Gristav was struck. He had reasoned it out. But reasoning wasn't hearing. And hearing, wasn't knowing. And not yet, believing.
"Where? And when?", he asked, faintly, half a whisper, half a growl. "Killed him in front of you, for asking questions? Because the questions, were the day before you assured me, all was well. In the bull's company, yes. But you're clever enough to have canted, learned enough to have languaged, if you weren't still lathering your own upside, or his back. No, you didn't leave yourself in anything you thought was dire straights. You're a survivor."
"Fortunate, that you are in that cage.", Gris added, knuckles white on his motionless staff. "He's to stay there.", Gristav declared to the room, taking a pace away, then another dozen, re-hearing the words, pondering the room, his mind adrift, drowning in rage and regret, feeling for Reason's flotsam...
(Bolbo is +6?)
(Bolbo is +9?)
Tendal mein becomes as flat and grey as the waters under the Irespan. "You sir, are a coward and a fool." the words dripping from his lips to spatter on the floor like acid.
"A fool, aye," he agrees. "Like Orik, killing for her. Like Falk, dying for her. Like Weatherby, thrown in prison for her. Like Bojasc, betraying me for her. Like Shorafa, yearning to take her back under her wing. A pack of fools, the lot of us."
"And if the gorilla plans on selling you out, that means he'll be back. Don't suppose he happened to mention when he'd be back for you, did he?"
"I don't know how long I've been here," Saul points out, "or entirely sure where 'here' is. Is it night, or is it only dark because we're underground?"