Harrol gratefully accepts the weapons. "Thank ye. I don't want to be gallivanting behind the others if there's foighting to be done..." he says, tying the dagger to his belt. "That's... a hell of a sword you have there. If yew don't mind my sayin' so."
As the others make to leave, Harrol mutters a short prayer, placing a hand on Nessa's shoulder. "May the Inheritor keep your arm steady and your spirit strong."
After receiving some healing, Nessa gives Harrol a rough pat on the back, "Well, I hope those weapons will keep you up right, you've got your uses. As to this sword, it was a gift. A good riddance present from those less willing to swing a sword like this."
-----------------------------------
Looking down the lit passage, Nessa whispers, "Do we want a peak around that corner? Don't want any surprises coming after us."
Harrol nods. "Wouldn't want ta put the wounded in danger now, would we?"
"There are luminous mosses that grow underground," Docia whispers back, "but that doesn't look natural to me. Perhaps we've found our missing camper?"
Harrol stalks a small way down the passage until he can put eyes to the source of the glow. The passage opens into a wider area.
A single sizable 20-foot-tall building remains in the center of this 30-foot-high cave, a bunkerlike structure with no windows and walls of worked stone blocks. A 10-foot-long carving of a hammer decorates the building’s facade - which is also the source of the sickly green glow. The ruins of collapsed outbuildings stand to either side. A single stone door lies closed at it's entrance.
Harrol easily identifies the hammer as a symbol of Dwarvish worship of Torag... but the green is incongruous with that.
"It's... it's..." the halfling begins, at a loss for words. "Oh, come and have a look. I don't know what to make of it. I'll keep an eye out for trouble. I'll keep two eyes out, I will!" he says, clambering onto an outcrop and peering out into the cage for signs of terrible beasties.
Summoned by the halfling, Eudocia frowns at the unusual structure and glowing symbol.
"Mr. Abernathy, what do you make of it?"
Eudocia notes that the hammer sigil is conventional for Torag worship, the only incongruity being the sickly green glow. Even in the short time that Eudocia has been in Kenabres, she has heard rumors of long abandoned tunnels and warrens that date back to the first of the crusades.
The structure itself looks to be a long abandoned and old temple. The light itself appears to be borne of magic of some kind... akin to a simple light spell of sorts... but then also not. Eudocia is able to eliminate sources without as cause, so the source likely dwells within the temple proper.
"Mr. Shadowbane," Eudocia says with excitement, "this could be precisely what we're looking for. They say that the first crusaders used tunnels; these structures could date back to those times. Who knows what historical value they might prove to contain?" Glancing behind her, her gaze falls on the three injured in the fall and Aarol now added to the company of wounded, and the blaze in her eyes dies down. "If it were only our squadron, I wouldn't hesitate to investigate, but ... is it fair when the well-being of others is in the balance? Have we the right to take unnecessary risks when we are responsible for seeing them back to their homes and families? After all, we could always return the way we came after we've delivered them to safety -- or whatever passes for it on the surface now."
Gregori listens to Eudocia's assessment in silence, the potential of finding a crusade stronghold at odds with the eerie green glow .
With a slight effort of will he shifts his perception into the supernatural realm , his eyes taking on a silvery glow of their own.
"Mr. Abernathy, what do you make of it?"
Theodric waits until Gregori approaches the building, following him.
A temple to Torag makes sense, even underground. That eldritch light is off-putting, though. Let me see what traces of magic remain on the structure itself.
Gregori's measuring gaze discerns the taint of evil has pervaded what was once a temple of goodness. The source of the taint is not powerful... but it is there.
Eudocia recalls that the dwarves were as present as other races in the first crusade, with a number of Torag's faithful seeing the endeavor as a divine responsibility to hold back evil that would threaten Golarion. It is even rumored that one of their fabled sky-cities, Jormurdun, fell to the earth within the now tainted and desolate land.
One of the highest achievments during the first crusade though was the establishment of a foothold in the fortress city of Drezen. It held firm against the demons for many years... before being overrun by the second wave of demons that burst forth from the rent in reality to swarm across the earth. It fell... and now sits perverted from it's first purpose and held by the demons.
...Not much of which explains why there is a small temple to Torag beneath Kenabres. You muse that given it's relative simplicity, perhaps it was a small shrine constructed by a family or itinerant hermit priest.
"There's a slight taint of evil inside the structure, nothing overly powerful, but evil creatures have been there. The Paladin says after completing his study of the building.
"We can't possibly," Eudocia says with genuine regret. "Not when we've casualties to escort to help. Once they're safe, we'll have to come back to investigate."
"It might make a good place to hole up tonight, if we don't find someplace more secure. I'd sleep a little better in there, glow or not, then have more of those bugs crawling on me coming from any old direction. One doorway and four walls, I like it."
"We've only been walking a half an hour," Docia replies with some dismay. "Is this as far as we can go today?" She lowers her voice in the hopes that the civilians can't overhear her. "We haven't any idea how deep we are or how far it is to the surface. I'm mainly concerned about food and water. I've water for today and no food at all. Without knowing if we can find anything safe to eat and drink down here, it seems our only hope of survival is travel as far and as quickly as possible ... given the circumstances." Her eyes flicker to Anevia and her splint.
"Pfft. I said tonight. Nessa looks perturbed, but does lower her voice, "And we are not sure any of these tunnels aren't just going in circles. Having a secure base might be important if we are down here more than a day. And it could be a good fall back point if we get chased down by something we would rather avoid. But I guess at the speed we are traveling now, anything and everything will be running us down. And it would be prudent to not leave potential enemies in our rear. Just a couple tactical reasons to check it out, other than to just go to sleep."
The exterior of the structure does look undisturbed, and the door appears solidly wedged into the frame.
Having overheard about the temple that was once to Torag, Anevia grows morose and reflective. She leans against the wall and massages her damaged leg "I just need to take a few moments..." breathing heavily with the exertion of needing to walk uneven and guide the blind at the same time.
Horgus scoffs and harrumphs before muttering "...slowing us down, should leave her to fend for herself..."
However his utterance was not as surreptitious as he thought and Anevia's head snaps up to glare at him and explodes unto him "Really? I’m not surprised that a coward afraid to acknowledge his own faith wouldn’t be moved by a forgotten temple like this. To deny and be ashamed of one’s faith is as bad as worshiping the beasts to the West."
Gwerm expresses shock at the accusatory tone, but soon turns that to contempt, spitting back "I find it ironic that a friend to thieves sees fit to moralize." smugly looking down upon the woman. Anevia internalizes the words and falls into black, silent anger, her eyes narrowing as she steadies her breath and restrains herself from biting back.
Aravashnial listens with a slightly cocked head and a thoughtful expression.
"Enough !" Gregori's deep voice echoes through the cavern.
Glaring at Gwerm, his eyes flash, the light of his halo intensifying, lending a touch of divinity to his anger. "If you wish to leave someone behind, then by all means go ahead nd try your luck down one of these tunnels on your own. I'm sure your complaining will keep the roaches at bay. Otherwise, stick with the group, try to be useful and keep the dark thoughts to yourself."
Intimidate
"Pfft. I said tonight. Nessa looks perturbed, but does lower her voice, "And we are not sure any of these tunnels aren't just going in circles. Having a secure base might be important if we are down here more than a day. And it could be a good fall back point if we get chased down by something we would rather avoid. But I guess at the speed we are traveling now, anything and everything will be running us down. And it would be prudent to not leave potential enemies in our rear. Just a couple tactical reasons to check it out, other than to just go to sleep."
I concur, but I have a request--I think we should observe the temple for a few minutes to notice any changes in the light. The more practiced the caster, the longer one can maintain a cantrip through force of will. If we hear any recasting or see the light go out, we can approximate the arcane prowess of whatever is in the temple, and we know they are trained in magic. Additionally, whoever is casting the spell relies on light to see, which allows us to rule out any demons or undead. Now, if the light is a permanent fixture on the temple, well, that gives us information as well. There could be valuable supplies in there, perhaps holy water to fight off any fiends that may have fallen here with us. I will, of course, follow orders, whatever is decided.
"Enough !" Gregori's deep voice echoes through the cavern.
Glaring at Gwerm, his eyes flash, the light of his halo intensifying, lending a touch of divinity to his anger. "If you wish to leave someone behind, then by all means go ahead nd try your luck down one of these tunnels on your own. I'm sure your complaining will keep the roaches at bay. Otherwise, stick with the group, try to be useful and keep the dark thoughts to yourself."
Theodric winces at the yell, bracing for impact as though the entire cavern will come crashing down on them.
I concur, but I have a request--I think we should observe the temple for a few minutes to notice any changes in the light. The more practiced the caster, the longer one can maintain a cantrip through force of will. If we hear any recasting or see the light go out, we can approximate the arcane prowess of whatever is in the temple, and we know they are trained in magic. Additionally, whoever is casting the spell relies on light to see, which allows us to rule out any demons or undead. Now, if the light is a permanent fixture on the temple, well, that gives us information as well. There could be valuable supplies in there, perhaps holy water to fight off any fiends that may have fallen here with us. I will, of course, follow orders, whatever is decided.
"Very well, Mr. Abernathy," Eudocia sighs. "It looks as if we need to take at least a brief rest here anyway; I'll leave you to your observations." She moves back out into the passageway and sits on the ground, her arms folded on her knees and her back against the stone. Tactfully ignoring the dissension in the air, she asks Anevia, "Is your bow in good condition? Would you like some arrows? Mine survived the fall, and you're likely a better shot than I am anyway."
As Theodric watches the light for a while, he notes that it appears consistent and stable in it's wan output.
Horgus initial reaction to Gregori's instruction is to bluster and his mouth flaps open and shut like a confused fish thrust from water unto land. Though words do not come to him, and he instead stalks off to the other end of the small tunnel and seethes.
Anevia is heartened by Gregori's words, and is further fortified by Eudocia's generosity "Aye, fair enough... and the arrows would be welcome. It would serve me well to contribute to the fray where I may."
Eudocia takes half her arrows and gives them to Anevia to fill her quiver. "As long as we're down here," she says, her voice carrying to where Horgus is sulking, "it's share and share alike. We can't afford to stand on ceremony. If we don't all kick in and contribute whatever we can, none of us are likely to see the sky again."
Gregori's eyes narrow slightly as he reads the man's reaction. While he would like to believe that the noble would see reason and accept that his behavior was unacceptable, he wasn't willing to bet on it.
Sense motive
Theodric is oblivious to Gwerm's feelings as he muses about the temple.
It's curious--why would someone, presumably dwarves, build a temple to Torag and then place a permanent light source on the exterior? It does give me pause, but I feel this place is too important to ignore. I certainly won't be kicking the door down, so I'll agree to whatever is decided, but if we do choose to investigate I can offer the point man, or woman, a measure of protection beforehand.
"If we all feel up to going forward a bit more, I'd say we explore further down the tunnel and come back here a few hours before we decide to make camp for the night. That should give us time to make sure it's clear of anything dangerous before setting up." Gregori says, turning to Eudocia for her opinion on the matter.
"I agree we should keep going," Docia replies, "but unless resting elsewhere is completely untenable, I see no reason to retrace our steps. It only means we'll have to cover the same ground again tomorrow. Unless the surface is within a day's walk of this temple, it does us no good to adopt it as our base. Our mission at the moment is not exploration but survival. And I do hope that no one will be 'kicking the door down' in any event, Mr. Abernathy," she adds. "That's no way to treat a site of historical significance."
Leaving the temple sealed and at your backs, you take the other path and follow it Southwards for what you reckon must be near to an hour. It folds left and right at times, but remains relatively level before a bend to the East and slight rise of twenty or thirty feet that looks to open into a larger chamber.
Horgus keeps his words to himself, but it is not difficult to read his distaste upon his face. Anevia is rejuvenated by the short rest and kindness, and keeps her bow slung over her shoulder as she guides Aravashnial. The elf is silent, though seemingly less unsure of his steps and now accepting the need for guidance, trusting to Anevia. If anything his bloodied and broken face appears pensive and thoughtful.
Guided as you are by Gregori's halo of light and Eudocia's dancing wisps, you pause before that light might betray you and announce your presence if anything dwelt within.
"I can send my lights around the corner ahead of us," she breathes, "so as to light it up without lighting ourselves as a target -- but anything that lives down here can undoubtedly find us well enough without light. Perhaps we could listen for any sounds of movement first?" Having made her offer, she waits to see how the scouts prefer to approach the situation.
"I'm all for that. It'll lead them to us, but as the Inheritor said at the Second Battle of Encarthan, "Alone, we falter. As many we are strong"..." he says, somber. "It beats gropin' around in the dark, to be sure."
Harrol loads his sling with one of his magic stones and keeps to the shadows cast by Eudocia's lights.
Eudocia draws her bow, then turns to the Riftwarden. "Master Aravashniel, might I suggest you take hold of the wall and stay here? We won't leave you, I swear, but if we find a battle, you won't want to be in the midst of it. Mr. Varien, will you stay and guard him and Mr. Gwerm? Mistress Anevia, arrow on your string in case anything gets past us."
When everyone is ready, she directs her lights around the corner into the chamber.
Gregori draws his sword and raises his shield in a combat stance, preparing to face anything that might come around the bend.
Harrol edges forward in the shadow of the witching lights and spies a cavern roughly 45ft square and with a single exit to the South and East, opposite where the tunnel you've been following meets the chamber. Stone figures are carved into the walls of the cavern. Each depicts a different crusader clad in armor and wielding weapons, but their carved stone features contain expressions of sadness. The roof of the cavern sits roughly thirty feet above you in the center of the area.
Once Harrol communicates to the group that there appears to be nothing hostile in the room, Eudocia follows her cantrip around the corner until she has her lights in sight again. What they are illuminating takes her breath away. "These date to the First Crusade," she explains with excitement in her voice, "contemporaries of Saint Clydwell himself. But why carve them so sad? The First Crusade was a success. Perhaps the carvings were made after the Second Crusade when the knights were driven out of Sarkorian lands? Master Aravashniel, you must come here." She quietly describes the figures to the Riftwarden, laying his hand on the carvings so that he can touch what he cannot see.
Theodric studies the carvings with fascination, nodding in recognition. He turns to hear Aravashniel's thoughts.
Harrol too, stares at the statues with barely disguised wonder, clutching his holy symbol tightly as he walks.
As the group studies the statues, Gregori keeps his eyes on the edge of the darkness barely held at bay.
Perception:
As the lack of immediate reaction gives you enough courage to draw a little closer, the sad figures of the crusaders becomes plain to you all. Aravashnial comes forward with Anevia's help - though Horgus remains in the depths of the tunnel for the moment. The elf's ruined face grows intensely focused and thoughtful as the figures are described, to which he ruminates "Fortuitous... that calamity begets discovery. I had thought this possible... but to see proof..."
Aravashnial continues "...There was an old legend, oft downplayed and seldom remembered that after the First Crusade a group of crusaders who had become infected with Abyssal energies fled persecution in the world above. Some of the crusaders that survived that war were touched and forever tainted... birthing deformed and unnatural children. It was thought that they fled here to allow their deformed children to live in peace, and thattheir descendants live on today. The presence of these statues here gives significant credence to the legend, these forms must have been struck by the children... hence the sadness from their exile and deformity."
The cavern remains quiet as you regard the statues nearest to where you entered the chamber.
Eudocia gives the elf an incredulous look he's entirely unable to see, as if he had just casually admitted to drowning sacksful of puppies. "And so the one group of Crusaders who actually accomplished something returned to such a reward that they chose exile in the darkness as the more livable choice? The temple of Torag," she remembers, "could that be theirs? Were there dwarves among these 'tainted' Crusaders?" She examines the carvings for dwarven features.
"What do yew mean the one group?" the halfling says, tight-lipped. "I suppose the Shoinin' Crusade is nothin', is it now? An' the hundreds of men tha' died on the frontiers to keep orcs, an'... an' demons and god knows what else at bay?" the halfling says, red-faced and shaking with anger at her flippant remark. He takes a deep breath and turns away.
"You shouldn't dishonor their memories so."
"The one question is, if they carved all this, are they memories? Where are they right now as we examine their handiwork? And will or would they resent surface folk like us?"
Nessa has no eyes for the wall art and instead peers into the chamber trying to make out any shapes beyond the light, sword held ready.
Harrol earns a glance. "I was referring specifically to the Mendevian Crusades," Docia clarifies dryly. "No offense intended to the Knights of Ozem. Still, better to dishonor a hero's memory than to dishonor the heroes themselves, by driving them out of the homes they fought to save. That would have been, what?" she asks Aravashnial, "almost a century ago? If there were dwarves, they could well still be here. They'd be the most suited to a subterranean life. But humans and elves? Can you imagine?" she shudders, looking around at the darkness. "To live your life down here, far from the sun and the sky. Still, the elves might yet live, and the descendents of the humans, if they could adapt to the darkness." Despite her melancholy, the thought of actually speaking to a veteran of the First Crusade or to their children is thrilling to the historian in her.
A glance around the room does reveal a few scattered dwarven figures amongst the statues.
Aravashnial shrugs at Eudocia's query on the fate of the first crusaders "There is little upon the books that suggests if the exile was willing or forced... but even thought the first crusade was near to memory they were different times. The fight was fierce and fresh... when fervor and zealotry were not tempered by decades of struggle and loss." Anevia is looking to the statues almost wistfully and with gravitas.
Horgus grunts "Very well and good... but perhaps we should continue..." a glance to Gregori betraying that his ascerbic tongue has been mollified for a short while.
"Aye, times are always 'different,'" Eudocia pulls a wry grin. "One wonders what we do now that future generations will explain away with the same excuse. Excellent idea, Mr. Gwerm," she goes on, feeling that any helpful comment he advances should be encouraged, "we certainly can't take these carvings with us ... though I hope to return with an artist to make accurate sketches for the museum." She gives a last lingering look at the walls before the group moves on toward the exit corridor.
Soon after you begin to make your way across the chamber, a pair of dark shadowy cloak like figures detach from the roof near to the exit out of the carving chamber. You see them fade into view for only a span of moments before they are swallowed whole by a globe of darkness...
Harrol:
Eudocia:
Nessa:
Gregori:
Theodric:
DMPCs:
Action Tracker (Round 1): Harrol, Theodric, Eudocia, ??, Nessa, DMPCs, Gregori
Eudocia can only a few details of note about the creatures in this hastily wrought recollection. They are named darkmantles... and unsurprisingly have the ability to conjure the blackness of night to drown out the light.
"Did... did you see those...? What happened, why is it so dark?" the halfling stammers, looking to Eudocia for direction.
"Those things ... darkmantles ... they nullify the light around them when they attack," Eudocia replies, backing away from the cloud of blackness before her. "Stay out of the dark!"