"I am no expert on vampires." The wizard drones, stroking his beard in thought. "But the stories always say that vampires need a place to rest, do they not? A coffin, or some other sufficiently allegorical container?"
"Yes, though it sometimes varies with cultural or species differences. Even so, vampires typically require a ceremonial funereal space - even living underground, in a cellar, or in a mine like this. But they are also clever. It could be hidden. It could be in a small chamber on the other side of a tiny crevice, accessible only while the vampire is in the form of a mist. We must be very watchful and cautious."
"Some vampire are unable to enter a room without being invited. Some cannot cross running water. And some have a obsessive compulsion to count things, so certain cultures would carry a bag of rice, knowing that if they toss the rice on the ground, the vampire would be forced to stop and count them all while they escape."
"It is no tomb of a King, but the chest in the room next to the shrine... with the heavy padlock... Could it not be hiding "in plain sight?" as they say?" He points to the northwest, where they had been before.
"Well, we certainly have a way through a padlock now," says Glenda, indicating the pick.
Nodding, "Good idea. Let's head back then and use our newly acquired 'key'." Snorri then does exactly that.
The lock flies off under the blow of the true mithril. Lifting the lid of the chest, you find many things that are not a vampire.
chunks of uncut ruby worth 4500
bloody knives with golden blades worth 600 gp
a solid gold but rudely made statuette of Camazotz worth 3200 gp
A bag (that radiates magic upon inspection with detect magic) (it contains 425 pounds of iron rations)
Obviously, it will take time to appraise and investigate all of this, which you probably don't want to spend now. It is just easier not to have to come back to it later.
As he looks within, "It would appear this is not it unfortunately." He then turns to Dasur, holding out the weapon for him to take now. "Forgive me for my rudeness earlier, Dasur. It truly is a fine weapon. Should prove quite useful." Once Dasur takes the pick, Snorri grabs his greataxe. "We've lost too much time. We've not long before the spell wears off and we are back to square one with those two," he says, motioning to Garnet and Dasur with a head nod. "Unless there is another theory we should attempt with the escaped bats we ought to return to continuing where we left off."
An idea just hits the dwarf. "You know, before we decide on anything, let us see if I can pinpoint the location of these 'bats'."
Snorri concentrates, bringing his senses into focus. Nothing is immediately apparent, but moving back through the dig, he turns to an area that you have not explored. It appears to be a midden, possibly for the other sabosans, or even for the trolls if they were not always undead. Heaps of broken and gnawed bones, dried flesh, and dung litter the ground. This is certainly not a good place, but there is an evil here more than just that of cannibalism. Something is buried here.
As the prince follows the scent of evil to the midden pile, Garnet gets out her 'Anytool' and reconfigures it quickly into a shovel, ready to dig where directed.
"Oh!" Dasur exclaims with genuine, rare excitement as the chunks of uncut ruby find his sight after the chest is opened. "These will greatly advance my research, I have always coveted a raw reference to Zhashilgeax..." In second the wizard has taken a the largest piece of ruby, a hulking fragment nearly the size of his fist, and stashed it in his bag. "What mysteries do you hold after so long in these ancient mines? What history, and future, is trapped within?"
Though excited to begin studying the ruby, Dasur continues their search for the vampiric threat. The midden elects no such excitement from him, and he is only mildly repulsive. "Garn, please, we do not know what diseases or horrors lurk within this pile." With a gesture, the wizard's Unseen Servant glides past them. "Allow my servant to do this work. It will be no risk to us."
Beneath the various waste, you find a depression carved into the floor that contains a coppery metallic box 6 feet long, 2 feet wide, and 2 feet deep. The lid of the box is some sort of fungal material, easily carved through by normal weapons, much less your gunzarak pick and axe. Within the box, you find the shriveled corpse of a sabosan, a bat humanoid. It's face is especially hideous, its wings shriveled. Still, as you stare at it, you see blood vessels pulse, flesh restore itself. Whatever has happened, the corpse is healing itself.
Dasur begins to stroke his beard as he inspects the sabosan corpse. "This certainly appears to be some sort of undead creature, and it matches the profile of the sabosan that attacked us earlier. I suppose we should destroy it." He turns to their dark elf companion. "Erebos, will the artificial sunlight produced by the pickaxe suffice?"
"Or we can sit here and discuss it while the thing heals up, KILL IT NOW!"
”By all means, let us kill this and whatever other undead bat creatures we may find. Then we can finally introduce you to our host, Balam, free of interference by these pesky creatures,” says Garnet.
"Destroy it, my lord!" says Glenda urgently to Snorri, since he's the one holding the pick. "End it!"
Dasur begins to stroke his beard as he inspects the sabosan corpse. "This certainly appears to be some sort of undead creature, and it matches the profile of the sabosan that attacked us earlier. I suppose we should destroy it." He turns to their dark elf companion. "Erebos, will the artificial sunlight produced by the pickaxe suffice?"
"I believe that it is, in fact, equivalent to true sunlight. You will forgive me if I step away."
At that, Erebos moves out of the room.
Nodding firmly, "Absolutely most certainly," he responds to Glenda. With the pick raised high and in both hands, he drives it right into the skull of the abomination.
The pick sinks into the chest of the dried corpse. Flesh, muscle, and bone blacken and peel away from the silvery metal. The corpse shudders. Snorri pulls the weapon away, holding it ready. But even these wounds begin to close. The blackening fading, the bones growing slowly back together.
Snorri holds the pick over his head, thumbing the trigger. The pick's head rotates, revealing a light that is nearly blinding. Under this assault, the sabosan body cannot stand. The skin flakes away like ash in a breeze. The muscle melts like wax, and the bones crack and the marrow spills out. In a matter of seconds, the metal box, not quite a coffin, is empty.
"That's one," says Glenda grimly. "Now we have to find out if there are any others."
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Dasur and Garn feel something relax in their heads that they didn't realize was tight. Whatever was impinging on their free will is gone.
Garnet uses her Anytool, now configured like some rather large pliars/tongs, to pull the copper coffin out of its resting place and drag it into the room. Unless it is obvious there is nothing in the ashes except, well, ashes, she tilts it on its side and spills out its contents to see if there are any valuables mixed in (rings, jewels, etc...), saying, "I feel a bit...different, like waking up from a dream. I am, once again, in your debt, Prince Snorri."
Dasur and Garn feel something relax in their heads that they didn't realize was tight. Whatever was impinging on their free will is gone.
The artificial sunlight makes Dasur squint, for even after seeing the full power of the artifact in the Vault's eternal twilight, it still stung after so long in the darkness.
A curious look crosses over Dasur's face after the vampire is destroyed, and he lets out a content sigh. "Indeed. I was quite tense."
"Hopefully there are no other dangers in this mine. We can focus on finding Balam, and...." The wizard scratches the side of his head. "Hmm. Moments ago I was quite sure we should talk with Balam, but I no longer feel that it the appropriate course of action." A shrug, and Dasur instead pulls out the huge ruby he had pocketed earlier. "Snorri, if you could keep swinging the pickaxe for just a few moments, I would like to see the refractive effects upon this gem..."
Dasur certainly seemed like his old self.
The coffin is masterfully crafted of a phosphor bronze, an alloy of copper, tin, and phosphorus. The inside of the coffin is inscribed with draconic runes carefully etched into the bottom and sides.
The depression holding the coffin is otherwise empty.
"I've got the tools to cut this up so we can take it with us," says Garnet, ""but I can't promise the mystical notation will be intact."
"Why don't we just carry it somewhere safe?" says Glenda. "I think we have exhausted the mines. We need to figure out what area we plan to tackle next."
Ah!" He exclaims when the others mention runes on the inside of the coffin. The ruby experiments are forgotten for now, and the magic of pickaxe was beginning to fade. "Erebos! The artificial sunlight has faded. Come, you must see this, the vampire has inscribed its coffin with its spellbook! A unique method of spell preparation. Do you conjecture it may be possible to have our spellbooks weaved into blankets, and when we sleep covered in them our spells will be memorized?"
"This will take some time to decipher, and even more time for Erebos and I to copy the spells into our spellbook. In addition, I must inspect the items we discovered within the chest. The bag in particular seemed to swim with magic. I propose we haul everything back to the dormitory for study."
Nodding, Garn stows her longhammer on her back, then grabs the coffin, balancing it on her back alongside the weapon. While it is a bit awkward to balance in such a way, as an armorsmith she is used to heavy manual labor. Ready to go, she follows the other dwarves back to the "dormitory".
Looking to Dasur curiously while he swings the pick just a bit longer to be sure there is TRULY nothing left of the monstrosity, "You never fail to amaze me, cousin," he says with a slight grin. "Ten more seconds for you and your gem but that is all," he acquiesces, grinning wryly. He gives the wizard the allotted time and finally relaxes. "A fine weapon indeed!"
"I shall tell quite a tale of this, should we ever encounter a tavern again!"
As you withdraw to the dormitory, as Dasur says, Erebos' eyes glitter with excitement at the spells etched into the coffin.
He runs his fingers over the coppery metal while speaking, "Lord Snorri and friend dwarves, might I observe that we have some opportunities here in Zaraketh. We sit at the end of a difficult journey through dangerous terrain, and before us we have another difficult journey across the territory of the Mithvarim. And in the best case, beyond that are yet more perils within your ancestral halls. Perhaps it would make sense here to take a moment to restore ourselves, to shore up the defense of this place, perhaps to seal the front gate against intrusion. Surely, if we are successful in our quest to restore Snorri to his seat of power, we will want to reclaim this holding, and crush the elves who stand between it and Dammerhall. Why return to find it once again befouled by mongrels, demons, vampires, or whate're else may wonder through the gaping doors. Let us make it a place of safe retreat should we need it, and a treasure waiting to be reclaimed if we do not. Surely, we should take this moment of respite to collect our strength."
Distant from the group, Firetalon, the wildling dwarf who knows this region best, listens to the drow and slowly begins to nod at his words. "Snorri, if you would allow, Firetalon will here stay to hold Zaraketh in waiting for your return. This place, we should not lose again."
Iverna has remained silent thoughout, most of the vampire search. She raises he small voice to say, "Let me know what you decide. I am going to sweep the upper level and the gates to make sure nothing has wandered in while we have been otherwise occupied. At the very least, if we are gonna stay her for a while, we should look at setting a watch at the gate. You saw how easy it was for us to walk in her and take out the previous tenants."
Snorri looks to Erebos as he speaks. He then cuts his vision over in the distance toward Firetalon before turning it back to Erebos. "If she is in agreement then you'll get no objections from me, Erebos. Sounds like a fine idea if she is willing," he nods. He then turns his attention to Iverna, "I think that is another fine idea, Iverna. A watch at the gate would be wise. And watch yourself in the upper levels with your endeavor. If ANY trouble arises, please return here at once and inform us." He nods.
Distant from the group, Firetalon, the wildling dwarf who knows this region best, listens to the drow and slowly begins to nod at his words. "Snorri, if you would allow, Firetalon will here stay to hold Zaraketh in waiting for your return. This place, we should not lose again."
"I would be happy to cut up the coffin for use as a spellbook, but it will take me some time and I may need some help to avoid damaging any of the arcane sigils," offers Garnet. "It would also be helpful if someone could enchant my weapon if we have the time and resources, especially in case we run into enemies resistant to non-magical weapons," she adds.
Looking to the others, she asks, "Is there anything you all need, especially with respect to armor or weapon maintenance?"
Erebos will set up a rudimentary study room with with Dasur. He hammers cut copper plates into the stone walls, carefully transcribing the symbols into his spellbook with special inks.
He also spends time inscribing more magical writings into his rapier.
Iverna locates the heavily damaged iron doors from the front gate wedged into a crevasse near the dead triceratops on the upper level. With some work, they could be dragged out and placed back into the front gates. This would certainly make it easier for Firetalon to defend.
She spends most of her time just inside the front gate, making sure there are no more incursions.
Erebos approaches Garn, never one to miss the opportunity to gain a friend. Can't let Torvi be the first to influence them.
"That is a fine weapon that you carry, warrior, but I see that it lacks enchantment. I could remedy that if you wish. Of course, Elven weaponcraft is nothing compared to that of the dwarves, but in a pinch..."
Somewhat surprised to be approached by the dark elf, Garnet is a bit suspicious given the history of their race. Still, she is part of the team...
"That is a kind offer, Erebos, and we Dwarves do make some sturdy and powerful weapons. Yet there are those among the Elvish people who are masters of light and agile weaponry, and enchantment as well." responds Garnet. Still wary, she tries to get a better feel for Ererbos' motives, asking, "So tell me, how did you come to be a part of this group helping the Dwarves reclaim their rightful kingdom? It seems a bit of an odd pairing, given our races' ancient enmity."
"What kind of material will you need for the enchanting? I will have to ask the Prince if he will allow me to use some of the treasure we have found to fuel the enchantment," Garnet replies, fully intending to ask Snorri for his impressions of Erebos are as well the funding.
"I was assigned by my overmarshal to lead a squad of black orcs to hold a key intersection near Iverna's gnomish homeland. This band of dwarven warriors made fast work of my soldiers, idiotic louts that they were. Lord Snorri offered me mercy when I surrendered to his superior forces. Since then, we have defended the gnomish city of Fasturvalt, and I have guided this band across the fiery wasteland outside this mine. I sense that Snorri will build a powerful kingdom, and that I can aid him on the path to that power. If he grinds some of my enemies under his boot as he rises, all the better."
(Assuming that Erebos also tells me what materials are needed for the crafting), Garnet says, "Sounds reasonable to me, if a bit opportunistic, but who am I to judge you if you aid our cause? I will go ask the Prince for permission to use the materials you will need."
Garnet goes to Snorri and asks, "Excuse me, your Grace, might I have a moment of your time? Erebos has offered to enchant my weapon that it might strike true against enemies resistant to non-magical weapons. Can you spare the material from your treasury, and," now speaking a bit more quietly, "do you think it wise for me to entrust my weapon to the dark elf?
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Snorri concentrates on the newcomer's words as she speaks. Keeping his voice equally as low, "I would say 'absolutely' to both of your inquiries, Garnet. And to elaborate further upon Erebos, he has yet to give me reason not to trust him. Will that always be the case? Only Torag knows. But I believe all can be redeemed. Obviously not all will but the opportunity is there for all. And I choose to allow actions to define a humanoid far more than race. So I think it's a fantastic idea to allow him to aide you. As far as I'm concerned, we are all of one house until proven otherwise. And as they say, a house united stands far stronger than one divided." He then cuts his vision toward the skald. "If only I could get Torvi to understand this," he mutters, shaking his head. "Anyway, do what you must to improve that fine weapon of yours. I believe we will truly be better for it if what you did to the Sabosan proves anything," he tells her, grinning and giving a wink.