Descending past the gaps in the ladder, Grayface looks downwards at the approaching floor... at the bottom of the shaft lies a chamber with walls formed from opaque green glass. Something is off though, the light seems refracted somehow... and then Grayface sees it, a membrane quivering some ten feet above the floor. Intrigued, Gray knocks a small stone from the shaft and watches as it is engulfed by the gelatinous cube below him...
[dice=Knowledge Dungeoneering]1d20+3
Seeing the translucent...thing...underneath him, Gray willed himself upward, flying in circles along the walls and pushing with arms and legs to aid in the ascent. Reaching his friends he shared what he saw,
"It's large, clear, and looks like some sort of dungeon ooze. Likely dangerous. I have some oil to burn it but I'm not sure if it will be sufficient due to its size."
Yasmin looks down at the ooze. "I can always fly down and zap it. Do oozes freeze? Or do they burn? We can also just keep dropping rocks on it until it gets smooshed. Big rocks falling from 200 feet have to do some damage, right? One of you strong folks want to give it a try?"
Rallos looks at the odd creature and searches his mind forvany information he might have learned about it.
Rallos looking down into the room below recognises the gelatinous cube for what it is - a huge ooze that, had Grayface been less attentive, would have been digesting his friend right now... fortunately, the creature is slow moving and, by the time its rudimentary brain has determined that it is under attack, it is doomed... the final rock that is kicked free by Grayface splitting the membranes and spilling gunk across the floor of the room at the bottom of the shaft.
At the bottom of the shaft lies a chamber with walls formed from opaque green glass. Doors exit the chamber to the south and west. Each of the doors is made of green glass reinforced with rune-inscribed copper bands. There are no handles — just a handprint engraved into each door.
"Uh? Should we try putting a hand to the print?"
Not yet, if you value your hand. Let me check that first.
Ea examines the runes
We'll need an emerald automaton's hand. That's the only thing that could match that print.
"Well that's annoying. Should we go back and fetch one, maybe from the Tomb of Yarrix?"
Yasmin checks to see if engaging the lock without the arm might engage a trap or alarm.
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Yasmin's consideration of the lock suggests that the door won't open without the use of an arm from one of the emerald automata - however, in all likelihood, the door is not rigged to do anything untoward in the event of a biological hand coming into contact with it.
Yasmin sighs. "Looking at this, I don't think there's a way to open this door without an arm. I'm really tempted to teleport us back up, but I guess we're better off saving my magical energies now that the way is clear. Gray can fly around and be ready to catch us if we slip."
And so Yasmin begins the long and somewhat frightening climb back upward. Just don't look down, you'll be fine.
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Gray's silly crush on the ice sorceress reared its ugly head again. He almost wished she would somehow fall so that he could fly up and rescue her, holding her tight in his notably powerful embrace. He half smiled at the idea, then shook his head to clear away such nonsense. She was his friend as were the others here, and they were counting on him to be ready for the serious contingency of a fall.
The warrior kept a sharp eye on the area above, ready to help if/when it became necessary.
The climb is long but far from treacherous, and so - nearly an hour after they were last there - the friends find themselves back in the tomb of Yarrix. Impassive, the automaton stands near the entrance - beaten up by the group as they made their way into the ancient place nearly a year ago, it will never move again. It is not a difficult task to sever the hand from the ruined machine... and so, a while later - having taken some time to rest and eat - the group find themselves back in the green glass room; only this time, they have an automaton's hand with them.
The door swings open as the automaton's hand is placed against the etched handprint in the galss to reveal a narrow hall leading to a small foyer. Patterns of shadow, reminiscent of ripples on water, pass over the green glass walls; no light casts them—they seem to be illusions. The chamber surrounds a low platform engraved with a massive mystical pattern. A pair of double doors, headed southwards, is set into the wall across from the platform and a scene engraved on the doors shows people relaxing in a pool of water.
. "This platform appears to be some form of anchor for teleportation magic, although it is currently defunct."
Yasmin ponders for a moment. "Could it be that this place powers the teleportation magic that we've been using to go up and down the spire? I tend to imagine these Automata as being caretakers of this place. Seeing a place with access restricted by the Emerald Automata makes me think that it might be part of the original design of the Spire. Maybe the design of the the Xiomorn race we had an encounter with while inside the Spire."
Yasmin will detect magic, seeing if she could understand more about what this platform was meant to do.
Titania looks uneasily about as she leads the others. Yasmin mentioning that this place might be related the Ziomorn made her shiver at the memory.
"I hope not. I really don't want to visit that place again," she whimpers as the memories of floating in midair in that abstract realm send an icy spike of fear through her.
We'll do our best to survive. We managed it so far. Maybe our Fate is to be the first ones to explore totally the Spire. Only Pharasma knows.
For once, Ea sounds nearly optimistic
Yasmin's examination of the platform suggests that the teleportation effect, were it working, is relatively local... and probably isn't connected to the Emerald Spire itself. During her deliberations over the platform, she moves close to the double doors... and, almost silently, they swing open to reveal a cosy room. The couch by the crackling fire is richly upholstered, and a massive painting hung above the fireplace depicts a wizard battling a dragon. There is a small door to the west, and a large double door to the east. Place settings are laid out at a round table.
The table holds a curious centrepiece: a bodiless metal head with crystalline eyes that resembles the heads of the automatons elsewhere in the Spire. When the doors open, the eyes of the metal head light up. “Welcome, honored guests”, it says in a creaky voice, “We have long awaited your return. Server Two! Guests for tea”.
Yasmin looks around for a bit, then decides the metal head on the table must be talking about them. "Do you think we've intruded on someone's home"
Then, in a louder tone, she speaks to the head. "Thank you, it is an honor to be here. Would you be able to tell me where our host is? We would like to give our regards. . ." The sorceress starts looking around, seeing if there were signs that this place was recently used or was instead old, dusty and long-abandoned.
The automatic door mechanism, the rippling shadows along the walls, the painting of the dragon and wizard... such beauty, such wealth. The simple warrior was taken aback by the wonders around him.
Why the nine hells would this be so far beneath the surface? Who...or what...lives here?
The sudden activation and declaration of tea time struck the wonder right out of him and sent a shudder up his spine. Grayface was not expecting that to happen. He was about the yank his blade from the sheath but thought better of it; there was no apparent threat. He moved forward, staying close alongside Yasmin to defend her if it became necessary. When she played along with the notion of tea time, he smiled mischievously at her deceitful attempt to gain some semblance of understanding.
The room is remarkably well maintained - even though it is likely ancient, there is no sign of the the dust and disrepair that was so prevalent within the Tomb of Yarrix. The head is momentarily confused by Yasmin's question, Host? We have waited for your return... we are here to serve"
The door to the west soon opens, and a dilapidated old automaton shuffles in. It has a thin build, one of its eyes has fallen out, and parts of its armor plating are missing. It carries a steaming kettle and a tea service, but comes to a stop and stares. In a buzzing voice, it says, “C-c-could it b-b- be? Have the P-P-Patrons returned?”
"This place is creeping me out," Tot whispers as she scooches closer to the others. "Who are the patrons?"
Talking machines unnerved him and this particular machine seemed to be figuring out that the group was not its "patrons." Knowing that his mouth would likely get them all killed, he left this situation in more charismatic and capable hands by staying silent.
Yasmin leans in to whisper to the others. "I don't know who these Patrons are, but let's try to roll with it."
Clearing her voice, she speaks up once more. "My goodness, you folks really are in a state of disrepair! We received word from the Patrons that we should come her to look in on you. It's a good thing they did, because you definitely could use some attention! Instead of some tea, maybe you could give us a tour so we can inspect the current state of this place?"
Yasmin turns around and gives her companions a wink.
There is a slightly dejected 'oh' sound coming from the old automaton when Yasmin suggests that the friends are not 'the Patrons'.
Interjecting, the head speaks once more, "Are you not though cast in the image of the Prince? You may not be the Patrons we expected, but you are certainly their heirs. We’ll serve you as promised, and in turn I hope you will see fit to restore us..." When Yasmin mentions the state of disrepair, the head continues, "The Prince”, the stewart glances at the painting, “created us to serve the Patrons. When he had to shut down the transit system, he told us to keep things running until he returned. And so we have... to the best of our abilities".
"If one of you will carry me, we could go to the oasis?"
"Tell us about this transit system, and tell us what is the oasis?"
--------------
Playing along for better or for worse, Gray lifted the talking head from the table and faced it forward where it could see and lead the group along.
He looked at everyone with head-in-hand and smiled,
"Where to?
And here I thought there were no more surprises down here....silly me...Rallos muses as he follows Gray warily.
"I dunno! For all I can tell, this place might have a room full of fluffy bunnies and kittens and puppies all frolicking in some meadow," Tot says, throwing her hands into the air to emphasize her exasperation.
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"You talk like that's a bad thing, Tot!" says the amused sorceress. Entering, she has a look at the painting of the Prince to see if the image is recognizable. .
"Given what I've seen of this place, I wouldn't be surprised if they were vampires that wanted us for some bizarre ritual!"
Yasmin doesn't recognise the person in the painting... although, as she inspects it, the picture seems to change - now depicting the same person standing at the top of the mountain...
The head seems quizzical at Grayface's question, "The transit? Why you should surely know that the Emerald Crystal was used to move between the depths and the surface... the Prince closed it down when he departed".
Thanking Grayface as the warrior lifts him from the table, the 'Steward' suggests once more that they visit the oasis, "This way... you must be tired after your long journey". Heading through the doors to the east of the room, the doddery automaton beckons the group into the 'oasis'. A large pool fills the centre of the room, and the steam rising from the warm, perfumed water fills the air with comforting scents. The lighting is low and soft, and the relaxing sound of faint chimes comes through the air.
An automaton, introduced as 'Beauty Two', arranges salves, powders, and files at a beautician’s station, while another, 'Massage One', stands next to a curved massage table. Towels, fresh fruit, strange delicacies, and a few books are close at hand, near four lounge chairs. Beauty Two instantly starts to fuss over Rallos suggesting various treatments to enliven his skin.
There is a door to the east of the 'Oasis' but none of the automatons have mentioned it...
What a Strange, Strange place..
Ea looks around, but even she is quite puzzled
"Okay, so what happened to Beauty One?"
Yasmin takes a deep, satisfying breath as she takes in the scents of the oasis. "Wow, you have certainly maintained this room quite nicely," concludes Yasmin. She heads over to the bowl of fresh fruit. "How do you grow fruit down here, where there is no sunlight?" She picks up a peach, sniffs it and takes a bite.
She looks around for magic to see how this place was fueled.
Looking around the room, Ea sees nothing of particular note - other than the strange juxtaposition of a spa so far beneath the surface and amidst so much danger, the room seems to be exactly what the automatons suggest - a refuge in which to rest and recuperate. Indeed, the pool looks rather welcoming as do the lounge chairs...
When Titania asks about 'Beauty One', the head's voice seems mechanically sad, "Over the centuries, many of us have suffered damage beyond our capacity for repair... Beauty One was lost to us an age past. But now that you have returned, you can restore us". Almost surprised at Yasmin's observation, "It is our purpose to maintain this room until the patron's return... we are glad to hear that you are satisfied with our performance. The fruit? It is sent up from the gardens... as it has been since the Prince made this place his home".
There are numerous auras here... moderate conjuration and enchantment magicks within the pool and around the automatons... examining them a little further, it seems that there are numerous permanent spells here - prestidigitation, create water, and purify water amongst other relatively benign arcana...
"Oh," Titania mutters before picking up an apple and beginning to nibble on it. Soon, she's fixing herself a plate with all sorts of strange goodies to try.
"So is this place supposed to be like a bath," she asks as she nibbles on the food.
"Sent up from the gardens? So the gardens are beneath us then? That is fascinating." Yasmin continues to enjoy her snack, becoming more curious about what they were encountering.
"You are probably surprised we don't know these things, but we have little knowledge of this place or its origins. How long has it been since the Prince departed? And why did he leave?"
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Years ago Gray had awoken one night to the woman he had lain with rubbing his back in earnest, working out the tension he was so adept at retaining. After the briefest of protests he allowed himself to relax and let the woman work her strong hands through his muscles, finding it to be one of the most enjoyable experiences of his life...possibly more enjoyable than the relations the pair had the night previous. And so the warrior was damn tempted to cast aside his arms and armor for a spell in the scented hot waters followed by a deep-tissue massage from one that would not grow tired.
Gray sampled the fruit, happy to enjoy fresh produce this time of year. What a marvel this entire set up was, replete with food and comfort of several varieties. Though the temptations were strong, his iron resolve kept him in the here and now, firmly aware that they were deep into dangerous territory.
The head declares that he has no real grasp of time anymore, Time is measured in decay of our bodies... once, we could have repaired ourselves", there is an almost wistful pause, "But that was before the time of the Reclaimers"
Massage One, who would appear to have only one functioning arm, bustles over to Titania as she mentions the bath, "Yes... the bath is both relaxing and restorative. It has been much time since one of the Patrons last bathed but it still works", a remarkably gentle mechanical hand touches Titania's wrist, "You really should try it". Meanwhile, Beauty Two has come up with multiple ideas in which Rallos could become more 'beautiful', "We could highlight your natural features... do something striking with those cheekbones. Have you ever considered longer hair? How about an entirely new colour... a violet would offset your eyes perfectly. What about your skin colour? Lighter? Darker?"
Yasmin catches the strange name that the head invokes. "The Reclaimers? Who are they? This sounds like a new and unwelcome development."
I like my skin as it is...natural. I could maybe tolerate a tail for my hair...that's it.. Rallos says, trying to get the servant to stop fussing. He reaches for the fruit laid out. These look delicious...I could stand a day or three here...
"Uh?"
Tot looks unsure as she looks from the strange metal person to the others.
"I-I guess a bath wouldn't hurt," she mutters slowly.
Massage One, as Titania acquiesces to the suggestion of taking a bath, offers to raise a screen "For your modesty" and to get some fresh robes... whilst Beauty Two turns its attention towards Ea, "Maybe you would welcome a new look?"
The head, is quick to reply to Yasmin's question about the 'Reclaimers', "They are the minions of the Iron Crèche. It is their task to maintain the facilities, but many centuries ago they came to the conclusion that the staff of the Sanctum were no longer required. They would consume us and recycle our pieces if they could. But if you bring me to the crèche, I could redirect this aggression".
Though it was somewhat abstract, the automatons finally spoke of a sort of violence. If they were capable of "redirecting this aggression" then they were capable of attempting harm upon the delving adventurers. Seeing Titania being ushered toward the dressing screen, Grayface hurried to her side, eager to intervene before something bad occurred.
He placed a firm hand upon her shoulder, stopping her from going along the robot's desired path. He spoke firmly, leaving no room for ambiguity,
"We do not want any services at this time."
Grayface turned to Yasmin and raised an eyebrow as if to say What have we gotten ourselves into?.
Yasmin returns Grayface's eyebrow with a slight shrug. She wasn't as worried as he was, since the creatures seemed to want to serve them. But she knew Gray was just being instinctively protective. What was concerning was that the automatons clearly felt their survival was at stake. That could indeed trigger surprising behavior, even from creatures created to serve and provide comfort.
"Yes, I think we should focus on discussing what is happening here. I assume the Reclaimers also were servants of the Prince, maintaining this place to await the return of the Patron? And they decided that you all, the staff of the Sanctum, were no longer necessary? Are there other staff besides the Reclaimers and the Sanctum staff? How have you survived, if you are at war with the Reclaimers? What is the Iron Creche, and what would access to it allow you to do?"
The Iron Creche is a war machine... intended by the Prince to create a never-ending supply of Emerald Soldiers. It uses the unique energies of the Spire to power its forges... yet without raw materials, the forge's reserves have become depleted. The Creche considers the servants of the Sanctum obsolete with the Patrons absent for so long and would recycle us... so we, the servants of the Sanctum, have sealed ourselves off from the Iron Creche".
The head continues, "If you can get me there safely, I do believe that I could reprogram the Creche to cease its endless production cycle... and to bring stability until the Patrons return"
"Could you get them to fix you," Titania asks, a little disappointed that she wasn't going to be able to enjoy the bath, at least not yet.
"Hm, getting them to fix you does seem like a good solution. It sounds like that's how things were before the time of the Reclaimers." Yasmin thinks about the situation and comes up with an intriguing possibility. "Do you think the Emerald Soldiers could be made to follow our orders? We've been fighting to reclaim the Spire from the many wicked inhabitants who have taken over, the worst of these being undead. An army of Emerald Soldiers would be invaluable in . . . defending this place from such creatures."
And valuable in attacking them, thinks Yasmin, but she had seen enough as a noblewoman to believe that the rallying of an army was best described as a defense of the people.
Ea smiles.
Twice.
Which is quite unusual.
First at the uggestion of having a "new look", as if the modest and somber Pharasman would agree.
Then when Yasmin tries to enroll the Emerald Soldiers to fight the Spire's Army of Darkness.
Undead would do less damage to unliving creatures.That's quite a good idea, and the Emerald soldiers would be precious allies in that war. Nicely done, my friend.
Turning to Titania
You can take your bath, you know, these automatons have waited for who knows long, half an hour won't do a difference. Besides, I've seen and washed my share of dead corpses, there's nothing to be ashamed of about any physical particularity you might have.
The tone is neutral, the words might sting a little, but there is no unfriendliness. Sister Zalinsel isn't the best diplomat in the world.
Rallos stands up from his chair and drops his pack. Well, if there's a warm bath to be had, who am I to turn it down. Might helps with the aches, after all. He heads in behind a screen and changes into a pair of shorts. Can't embarrass, the ladies now, can we? he quips as he snakes his tail out and waves it. Old scars become apparent on his bare chest and back....jagged cuts and some half healed over holes. Some appear fresher than others, the newest being from his exploits in the Spire...some much older than that.
The bath's temperature is, as Rallos slips into the pristine waters, close to perfection... the dust and grime that was smeared across the rogue's skin is soon banished - and any aches along with it. Massage One stands at the edge of the waters looking down at Rallos, "When you are done... maybe a massage to ease your stresses?"
The head, first responding to Titania's question, notes that a redirection of the Iron Creche's motives would indeed allow him to evaluate the feasibility of repairing itself and the other automatons of the Sanctum... and then, moving on to Yasmin's request, "I believe that may be feasible... if the damage to its workings aren't too deep-seated, I should be able to imprint your commands onto the Emerald Soldiers of the Iron Creche".
Feeling a bit more optimistic at the notion of gaining the allegiance of the Emerald Soldiers, Grayface allowed himself to relax a bit. Doing his best not to notice any female nakedness - a best which wasn't perfect - he stood with his back to the pool, fully clothed, armed and armored. Duty and honor mattered more to him than the comforts that he admittedly coveted.
"I will stand sentinel while you guys relax and cleanse your bodies."