Torvi too will search the place, and will scan it with detect magic up and running.
The door to area R bears a brass plaque inscribed "Professor Cagan" in gnomish. The door is crafted from some sort of fungal planking, and the office beyond is moldering and in ruins. The center of the room is taken up with what must once have been a desk and chairs, and the walls with bookshelves falling into piles. What may once have been hidden within the walls is now revealed. There is a lockbox built into one of the walls. It is some sort of mithril alloy, immune to decay and still quite strong. Someone has scrawled on it in wax "First to go forth." Within the lockbox there is a faint magical aura with a sense of divination. There is a dial on the box inscribed with numbers, apparently some sort of rotary lock.
Area S is a largely empty room, though littered with heaps of bat guano. One corner is dominated by a massive bronze tapering cylinder.
Dasur reads the plaque outside the wall for everyone's benefit. "Professor Cagan. If I recall, there was a portrait of him downstairs. Cagan First-to-Go-Forth-Where-Others-Feared. It is no wonder they put his first name on the door plaque."
The wizard wanders around Professor Cagan's office until he detects the faint aura of magic coming from the wall, suddenly turning and walking towards the lockbox. "Hmm, this appears to be a very respectable mithril alloy. It would be a blessing from the Earth if this mithril was extracted from Zaraketh, smelted and forged in Dammerhall, installed here 400 years ago, and now stands before us, a beacon on our quest." He comments while running a finger over the flawless, holy metal. 'Inside I can see the aura of tightly bound divination magic. Perhaps this is what they used to see the stars?"
"There are gnomish runes in wax that read "First to go forth" here." Dasur says while pointing to the wax scrawlings. "The last words of Professor Cagan? But where is the rest of his name?" Slowly stroking his single-braided beard, a singular conclusion is reached. "He must have died while carving it."
Staring at the combination lock for a few moments, a perfect image of the mud-covered plaque at the observatory entrance flashes into his mind.
He flips the dials on the combination to read "1367", the founding year of the observatory, and attempts to open the safe.
Regardless of whether or not the safe opens, the wizard moves into the room with the bronze cylinder. Dasur steps directly into a pile of bat gauno, stopping suddenly as he contemplates the large construction.
What Erebos called a brass tube is in fact a massive telescope that penetrates the wall and ceiling of the building. Where you might expect the top of the building to rotate to enable different fields of view, somehow only the portion on the roof actually moves. The telescope is currently missing the eyepiece, and is therefore pretty useless except as scrap metal and fine lenses.
The numbers on the dial go from 0-9, and the tumblers feel like there are only 3 numbers required. It resists Dasur's first attempt.
Glenda follows Iverna, silenlty keeping the gnome company.
As Dasur puzzles at the lock, she says, "124? First; two; go fourth?"
Dasur pokes and prods at the telescope just as Erebos predicted. "Truly amazing work. Exquiste craftsgnomeship. But without the eyepiece I'm afraid I will have to strip it for the lenses to use in my research."
"Perhaps the eyepiece is in the safe. The aura of divination magic emenating from its depths fits my theory of how they were able to pierce the rocks above." He drones to no one in particular while leaving the telescope room, managing to step in a completely different pile of bat guano this time.
Thinking over Glenda's idea, he nods. "To us it may seem too obvious to be true, but to the gnomes... the use of a Taldane homonymn to disguise a number combination would be very clever." The wizard spends about ten times as long analzying the suggestion as he does actually doing it.
Dasur flips the tumblers of the combination lock to "124" and pulls the lever.
Ridiculously, the simple numbers work. Bolts move within, and the entire face of the lockbox lifts off. Inside are 50 platinum pieces minted with an unfamiliar gnomish face. a palm sized gold disk that flips open to reveal a clock face. The device ticks noticeably.
Last, there is a fat 8 inch long brass tube that holds finely ground crystal lenses. The tube is indeed the source of the divination magic.
Dasur removes the face of the lockbox and places it on the ground, looking at the contents within. He ignores the coinage and reaches for the finely ground lenses, handling them with something approaching religious reverance. "This... these are marvelous. I will be able to use these in my research if any of my lens become scratched or dirty! This crystal is fine, very fine indeed..."
The 8 inch tube interests him as well, but he has other plans for it. "I will stay up here for a while, to study the aura of this tube and determination the function of the telescope. Please explore the rest of the structure without me for the time being." He instructs his companions, reaching into his bag to retrieve his spellbook.
”Well done with the safe cracking! I am totally impressed!”
The eyepiece allows the telescope to enhance darrkvision in such a way that the viewer can see across the chamber to the walls in all directions. It isn't powerful enough to discern fine details, but can see major features assuming there isn't anything in the way. You can certainly see the various entrances on the walls, and you can see the ceiling above. Overhead there is a sort of chasm that might once have reached all the way to the surface before its walls collapsed. Perhaps that is how the telescope saw stars, or perhaps there is missing technology or magic still.
If allowed, Erebos will join in using the telescope, attempting to see the entrance that the drow control.
"Ahhh, it does not function exactly as I theorized. This is far more useful." He says while inspecting the collapsed chasm in the ceiling. "This opens many questions about different routes into the darklands, but also makes me suspect this observatory was not just for looking at the stars. It was for seeing who or what was moving in or out of the chamber. Valuable information."
Dasur is happy to let Erebos operate the telescope. He assists the Drow by adjusting the magnification while Erebos moves the dome into the correct position. "Can you see the great-jumping-off -point? Vothys?" The wizard inquires, curious if the drow one day grew tired of the gnomes' spying and leveled the place.
When Erebos is finished using the telescope Dasur will try to use the device to follow the path of the road outside the building to its logical conclusion, scouting the terrain ahead and looking for their possible enterance into lower Azathyr.
"This place appears to have ever-increasing strategic value. Perhaps the worms were sent so that they could not be seen coming through this device?"
Snorri picks up the clock, looking at the precision craft.
”The strategic usefulness of the device is obvious. Perhaps there are less obvious ways to use it? Perhaps you can scan the entire cavern and find a decent tavern? Also, how would one narrow shaft upwards have allowed the gnomes to map the whole sky?”
"No, despite our surmise, the Dragon's Maw, what the gnomes call the Great Jumping Off Point, and Vothys are not within this vault, and I cannot see beyond the walls. Still, though, being able to see all of the entrances is valuable."
The road winds on up the hill only another few hundred feet before ending at the edge of a small volcanic cone.
"It appears the road leads into a small volcano." Dasur says while stepping away from the telescope. "And hopefully our way towards the lower Azathyr. Hopefully the eruption that leveled the city did not block our passage. Considering this build still stands, I find that unlikely."
When everyone has gleaned whatever information they'd like out of the telescope, Dasur carefully removes the eyepiece, looking through it without the rest of the device. "Perhaps, Torvi. To answer your questions: I do not believe there are any taverns in this cavern, and I do not know, for I know little of the stars. The planet both independently spins and travels around the sun, so perhaps the view changed throughout the year until they were able to see the entire sky when put together as a panorama."
Satisfied with their finds on the top floor, Dasur wraps the magical eyepiece in cloth and places it with the rest of his light-bending instruments. It would definitely be experimented on later...
[b]"Please accompany me, Snorri. I would like to sweep the remaining floors for magical auras and be on our way."{/b] The wizard drones while making his way to the third floor, looking into the various rooms before entering them and scanning for auras.
Room o is empty enough that Dasur and Snorri might suspect that whatever was here was carried off by either the gnomes or the Drow. There is some dust, but not even scraps of material in the way that the other rooms are full of ruined furniture.
Room m is filled with broken metal structures that might have been desks or worktables. The broken slates on floor and walls suggest this was a classroom or workroom.
Room n contains the corpse of a man sized spider, probably one of the skis'raal.
There isn't any magic on this floor.
Dasur pokes about the rooms with his staff, taking note of the apparent lack of anything interesting.
The large dead spider gets several pokes, each rude and uncalled for jab driven by curiousity. "How did this Skis'raal get here? Do you think it climbed on top of the chasm ceiling then dropped down to the island? Or perhaps it is older than that, an ally of the Drow left behind?" The spectulation was wild, and ultimately useless.
Continuing their tour of the abdanoned facility, Dasur takes the stairs down to the second level. Eyes hungry from magical auras, he scans the entirety of the floor.
"Dear gods, how far of a drop would that have been?"
Rummaging through these rooms and hallway turns up about 300 gp worth of rare metal cogs, springs, handles, collars, and other mechanical bits and bobs.
There is also a small steel covered book, now rusted. Within are copper plates etched with gnomish runes.
"Impressive. These gnomes carried out their own quest for the sky... and they found a way to do it even if they couldn't dig all the way to the surface," says Glenda. "Only the intervention of these powerful monsters was able to lay them low."
The mechanical bits and bobs were interesting to Dasur, but when he spots the faint magical aura emanating from the steel covered book, he drops everything else to grasp at it.
Brushing away the rest he opens the book, marveling at the copper plates within. "These are engraved with spells... one moment.."
It took a mere flick of Dasur's wrist to intact a magic-reading cantrip, causing the runic magic to come into focus.
"Hmmm. Mmm...Interesting. This first spell is basic, and by my approximation should the caster to see the stars through mild vision-blocking obstacles." He explains, putting one plate to the side.
The wizard quickly scans three more plates, setting them in their own stack. "Ah, a solution to a mystery you would be very interested in, Torvi. This spell allows the caster to see the stars through solid stone. When used in conjunction with the telescope, they were able to have a true observatory deep underground." Dasur says with an air of respect.
He begins to look at the other plates, a look of confusion crossing over his face. "This... hmmm.." The plates are stacked into 4 unqiue piles, each one bigger than the last. All the while Dasur strokes his beard with increasing agitation. "These spells are designed to contact... something. Normally divination magic used for communication has tells that allow for sentient minds to connect, putting in place a sort of thought filter that translates thoughts or speech back and forth between users."
Taking a breath, he places a hand on the largest stack. "But these spells are one-way, incredibly long range, meant for multiple recipients, and the filter.... well, I have never seen anything like it. I understand the magical theory behind the runes, but... well, it's like writing music for a chair. I do not understand why this magic would work at all if taken into its individual parts, but as a whole it is basically an announcement, a shout that says "I am here!" to creatures I believe are from the fabric between and beyond the stars. One can then assume that these worm creatures were.. invited here, possibly by accident, possibly on purpose."
Turning to Snorri, Dasur seems grave for a moment. The wizard debates whether or not to tell the paladin this next part, for he knows what the paragon of Torag will do next. But dwarven honesty, and an urge to inform, compels him. "My liege, in order to use these Contacting spells, many require material components from sentient creatures obtained by non-consensual means. The rituals use objects ranging from as harmless as a spell scroll or a bundle of cattails to chunks of fresh brain, devouring flesh, or sacrificing humanoids in several elaborate ways. The spells themselves are not "evil", but the creatures it attempts to contact may be."
Snorri examines the overly large spider. "One of many questions that will not be answered, I fear. And perhaps this place has already told us all there was to tell."
He follows Dasur on the top floor.
"Indeed, it at least answers the questions we have had of how they did this observationing."
Leaning against the wall and letting her head thump against the wall behind her. Glancing at the surly gnome, "So why are you really so angry?"
"I believe so." Dasur responds, using a cantrip to begin cleaning the rest of the rust off the top of the steel-bound spellbook.
"The way to the volcano seemed clear when I peered at it through the telescope." The wizard says, placing the heavy spellbook with the rest of his belongings. "Let us proceed."
Leaning against the wall and letting her head thump against the wall behind her. Glancing at the surly gnome, "So why are you really so angry?"
"I've dealt with gnomish foolishness my whole life. No focus, easily distracted, prone to self destruction. There is no reason for you dwarves to get swept up in all of this gnomish silliness. Looking at 'stars.' Why would anyone look at stars? It's like staring at the ceiling. You want to find Dammerhall. Don't let these tangents lead you astray."
You trudge up the hill toward the peak, not much farther ahead, in fact below the protrusion of the top of the telescope. The rim of the crater is gentle, a ring of stone roughly 150 feet wide completely encirlcing a hole nearly 100 feet in diameter. This gaping hole stretches even beyond your enhanced darkvision, even beyond that of Erebos. The walls of the hole would a difficult but not impossible climb, but who knows how far it stretches.
Sitting on the rim, off to the side, is a round steel building with a domed roof. A single steel door faces the hole.
"My liege, in order to use these Contacting spells, many require material components from sentient creatures obtained by non-consensual means. The rituals use objects ranging from as harmless as a spell scroll or a bundle of cattails to chunks of fresh brain, devouring flesh, or sacrificing humanoids in several elaborate ways. The spells themselves are not "evil", but the creatures it attempts to contact may be."
"I would surely say that sacrificing humanoids is out of the question. As for contacting things beyond our reach, well, that is how terrible tales are started. I will not hinder your quest for knowledge, Dasur, but I shall require you must use more caution than you ever have. If those distant creatures are as strange and alien as you make them, even the most controlled test could bring forth mayhem."
"I've dealt with gnomish foolishness my whole life. No focus, easily distracted, prone to self destruction. There is no reason for you dwarves to get swept up in all of this gnomish silliness. Looking at 'stars.' Why would anyone look at stars? It's like staring at the ceiling. You want to find Dammerhall. Don't let these tangents lead you astray."
"Do not think that anyone wishes to find Dammerhall any more than us, Iverna. But that is precisely why we can't just dismiss as gnomish foolishness something that may be a boon for us. Without that contraption that got us through the lake we may still be cobbling together a makeshift raft, and what we recovered from the tower may as well help us sooner or later. We can't afford stubborness, pride or prejudice, nor to dismiss anything as foolish, not when the stakes are this high."
Snorri stares at the incommensurable sinkhole. "It would be foolish to hope that your slow falling spell could help us here, wouldn't it?"
Torvi seems startled, ”slow falling spell? How did you know about that?”
Dasur approaches the edge of the hole, looking across the gap and then downward. With no end to its depths in sight, he shakes his head to the scion of Dammerhall's question. "Not foolish, but impractical. This is a simple matter of unknowns. We do not know how deep the hole is. We also do not know if our extended darkvision, imparted to us by the strange radiation of the island, will continue as we descend. Thus, while we could jump off in teams and activate a feather fall spell before we hit the bottom, if I cannot see the bottom then we may hit it before I am able to cast the spell."
Thinking briefly while looking up at the great ceiling of the chamber, the mathematician turns to Snorri. "You found a timepiece in the safe, correct? If it is still accurate I could use it, a rock, and a Light spell to potentially estimate the total depth of the hole. Then, again using the time piece as we fall, I would know the exact moment to activate the Feather Fall spell so we do not hit the bottom at a fatal velocity."
"Of course, there are other problems with this approach." Dasur continues to drone. "If the hole is miles deep, we may not be able to see where the lighted stone stops. In addition, if we do not jump straight down the hole, the drift in our descent will cause us to crash into the sides of the walls far before we reach the bottom."
Pointing towards the round building on the edge of the hole, he then starrts walking towards it. "Of course, this is all speculation. Perhaps Iverna's far-off cousins have already solved this problem, and it awaits us in that shack. If they were able to build a submersible, a lift would be well within their engineering capabilities."
The wizard casually walks towards the round building, eager to see what gnomish ingenuity rests inside.
"We used that spell to solve a similar problem, if on a different scale."
Snorri looks at the gnomish device, eyeing it suspiciously and measuring the ticking against his heartbeats. "Perhaps we will find miles of rope."
"Would a miles-long rope have the structural strength to support its own weight?" muses Glenda.
”Of course it would, each foot of the rope is only holding up the foot below it.”
The door has no lock, but seems to have rusted shut in its frame. It has a simple vertical handle to pull it open, but it doesn't budge at your pull.
"After all the dangers we have faced to reach the Lower Azathyr, a simple swollen door blocks our way." Dasur muses, turning to the others. "Perhaps our most stout of arm can force it? Otherwise, Erebos and I can take turns blasting it with Sorching Rays until it melts."
"Metal will always yield to dwarven hands."
Snorri fashions the Any-Tool into a crowbar and pushes it against the edge of the door, fighting against the rusty, corrupted metal.
Assuming someone is willing to help Snorri out a bit, the metal gives way, screeching loudly as puffs of rust whirl through the air.
Looking through the door, it takes a while to take in all of the contents of the building. In the center is a rusty steel boat about 10 feet long. The dome over your head is divided into wedges like an orange, and each wedge is attached to something like a hydraulic press that must push it up, opening the roof. There is also a huge net of thick rope and a great pile of silk. Against the outer wall is a huge spherical tank with a spigot at the bottom.
Another gnomish contraption, apparently.
Dasur steps into the building, glancing around at the rusted machinery and ropes pile up before them. "I have never seen anything like this." The wizard immediately comments, moving to the spherical tank first. "Iverna, does any of this seem familiar to you? I am sure we can formulate a theory of operation for these devices."
He taps the spigot with a finger to see if it still moves, then slowly opens the valve until a droplet of whatever is in the tank comes out.
What drips from the valve is an oily substance, something like lamp oil. It would serve as excellent fuel for the submersible vessel.
"Holy Father of the Forge, this thing is weird. Is it... Could they have made some sort of flying vessel?"
If the submersible was uncommon, the idea of a flying contraption fills Snorri with a dread that's quite rational if you're used to living close to the ground.
"This oil is similar to one used to power the submersible." Dasur mentions as he wipes the substance off the floor with a finger. "Though I do not see any devices that would accept this as fuel."
He wanders around some more, looking at the ceiling. "Why would the ceiling open up? That means the building itself does not move, but instead something inside the building moves through it... going up. Yes, Snorri, I believe that could be the case."
Stopping at the rusty steel boat, he strokes his beard for several moments in thought before stepping inside. "What if this is not a boat for traveling on water... but a boat for traveling on air?" He thinks aloud, though the thought seems to distrub him. "The machinations of Air often elude me, I must admit. It is the opposite of Earth and difficult to predict. But this must not have been the case for the gnomes. A dwarf society living on this island would have carved stairs all the way to lower Azathyr, but these gnomes could have built a contraption that allowed them to rise and fall at will."
Poking around further in the boat, he begins to look for anything that could accept the oily substance from the spigot. If he finds anything, Dasur will place some oil in it and attempt to start a flame similar to starting the submarine.
In the center of the boat is an engine of sorts, something like the one from the submersible but much less complex. It has an exhaust the vents up into the sky above the boat, which seems fairly inefficient and dangerous to those on the boat.
Dasur stares at the engine, wondering why anyone would create such a strange device. "If this contraption were to fly, the engine must be the source of power. If we assume all the components for the machine are in this building, there are only so many possible permutations the equipment could be set up. If all else fails, at least we can finally cook a decent meal."
The wizard sits in the boat, as if immersing himelf in the construction. "I must think on this, and do some calculations. I believe this device operates using the emissions of the burner, but I do not know how."
Taking out a sheet of parchment that has already been scribbled on many times, Dasur retrieves the new set of pens and inks they recovered from the Observatory. What better time to test out the new stationary set?
After hours of greasy, muscle aching struggle, you manage to get the parts all together, the net attacked to rings in the side of the boat hull, the silk envelope within the net and the hole lined up with the hot air exhaust. You can make the balloon rise out of the storage building, and you can figure out how to make it rise and fall. I leave convincing Torvi to get into the thing up to you.
Once the thing is moving, Erebos chimes in,
"Madness. I'd take dwarven stairs or Drow fleshcraft over this contraption."
"Fascinating. I wonder how it works? Is the principle that the spirits of air don't want to be burned by the fire, so they move upward into the bag and push it up as they try to flee? I suppose then if you turned off the flame it might come back down," says Glenda.
"But we do not have either a troupe of stonemasons or a sufficient supply of flesh."
If his words are logical,Snorri is not convinced either by the flying contraption, and when he's not needed moving heavy pieces, he's looking for any surviving documents about how the vessel operates.
Dasur begins preparing the craft for its maiden flight into the depths of the Azathyr after practicing taking it in and out of the storage building. "I do not know for sure Glenda, but I believe that is the principle idea. There is an undocumented interaction between the elements of Fire and Air that is at play here. Perhaps one day we can fully study it, but for now we must trust the principle holds true outside of this dome."
Climbing in the boat, he ushers the others inside. "I too look forward to the day when our finest masons carve steps that will last a thousand generations into these walls that surround us. But that is not today."
Looking to Torvi, his voice is plain and direct, knowing full well her trepidation. "I will not force you to come with us, Torvi, but I know your assistance will continue to be needed in the trials to come. If you do not wish to ride in the flying boat I understand, but I do not suggest jumping into the hole either. Survival in this machine is morel likely."
Torvi had been following the conversation, but when queried about continuing on, she replies, "Traveling beneath the sea was unnatural, as it is unnatural for air breathers such as we. But flying? Birds breath the same air as a dwarf or gnome. I do not find flying to be objectionable. I have a question though. Are we prepared then to fly off into the nether, without care for a means of returning here if desired? That submersible was handy, if unnatural. As an artifact, it might be priceless. Which is code for having a high price, if we were to barter for it. Are we to just leave it on this island as we fly away?"