The mutated creature thanks you with his eyes before touching hand to chest "I am Lann... we must be cautious, he is trapped beaneath a weighty stone that we have been unable to move - for hours we have attempted to inch towards him..."
Gregori studies the strangers for a moment as the group moves to assist.
"Eudocia Fairday," she introduces herself. "We fell from the surface in the... as you say, when the earth shook. I'm afraid I'm no great prodigy of strength, but there are quite a few of us. Perhaps if we all lifted together? Well, all of us fit to, that is. We've some wounded and some ... uncooperative." She leaves it to Gwerm which category he wishes to be believed to fall into.
Gregori's read on the situation is that there is no duplicity, they are anxious and concerned for their companion that is trapped.
Lann nods quickly at Eudocia's suggestion and makes way for you to join him at the collapsed tower "Here, he is beneath this section of floor..." pointing out a large stone block that the two creatures would have had no chance of moving themselves.
Anevia limps forward, though Aravashnial keeps his distance, thinking that without sight he would be less able to assist. Horgus sneers and purposefully stands distant.
"I'm small. Let me get in there. Gotten out of tighter spots myself."
Neassa with scramble into the rubble and use her lower leverage to get a start on the rock.
"Umph. Come to see it up close, this is a pretty big rock/
"B'th'thundrin' heavens, it's too heavy!"
Did it move?...I think it moved...or I'm getting shorter.
Theodric, not one for physical labor, watches a bit, not even capable of offering advice on where to begin lifting the rock. As he observes the futility of his companions' attempts, the slender wizard speaks up from the rear of the group.
Time is of the essence. I believe I can help. Stand back, and when the rock lifts, grab Lann's friend. I'm not sure for how long I can hold it.
He points one outstretched hand at the boulder, the other clutching Terendelev's silver scale. Theodric struggles, fiercly concentrating on the rock as he attempts to lift it with his mind.
Gregori moves forward, ready to pull the trapped man free the moment the boulder raises.
Though initial attempts at shifting the rock are stymied by an inability to bring force to bear given multiple points of stress and the weight of stone... Theodric's channeling of the essence of a dead protector changes the balance. With straining effort the weight of Terendelev's boon combines with the force and guidance of those who lift to eke a few feet's elevation of the rock.
A bloodied humanoid form covered partially by fur and with reverse hinged legs comes into view, and Lann reaches swiftly in to drag his kinsman free of the rubble. The body is bloodied and bruised, but his chest can be seen to rise and fall. Gratitude begins to spread across the tumorous face of the female mongrel-man while Lann touches hand to chest then mouth "Thankyou strangers... without your aid Crel would have died, so we owe you thanks. I beg you, come with us back to Neathholm - there are many tunnels and not all are safe, but if you come with us we will guide you to one that will take you back to the sunlit... it is the least we can do"
"Thank you," Eudocia responds with heartfelt gratitude. "That would be ... wonderful. We've no idea how deep we are or how far we have yet to go. If you'd like, Brother Harrol could have a look at your friend before you try to move him. He's a healer; he might be able to make him more comfortable during the trip."
Lann nods and gestures "Please, anything you can do would be welcome." before pausing and sighing with narrowed eyes "Neathholm was not far, but the earth shake has closed the easiest way to it. We will need to cast wider to reach it... but I must ask... Why do you trust us?"
Horgus scoffs loudly at the word trust though covers it with a faux coughing fit and settles for glaring at the creatures. Anevia moves back and is explaining the mongrel-folk's appearance in quiet words to Aravashnial who seems to be wearing a countenance of increasing academic interest.
"Why did you trust us, rather than trying to kill us right away like our friend the dwarf?" she asks with a shrug. "I could spin a tale about our virtues, but frankly, we need help and are unlikely to survive without it -- just like your kinsman. Desperation covers over a multitude of differences. Also," she hesitates, "we passed through a chamber of friezes, heroes of the First Crusade, and wondered how they came to be carved down here. Master Aravashnial," she nods to the blinded elf, "told a story of crusaders and their children seeking a place where they might live in peace. Perhaps your people are their descendants?"
Lann blinks and half-chuckles "Heh, I had not even seen him until you made plain his presence." shrugging "We had need of help, and it was given... had you proferred sword then we would have returned in kind... but it is best for us both that you did not."
At Eudocia's mention of the friezes Lann is both saddened and heartened as he responds with a nod and words that almost seem as though from a story "The old ones, that came before. They fought the evil, blessed and cursed by it and forced below. though I know little of the old tales..."
"We would be honored to Neathholm, through whatever pathway is available."
Harrol's suspicion dies away as the others reach out to help the mongrelmen, replaced with earnest, wide-eyed curiosity. Before joining his hands in prayer he beams up at them. "Forgive my askin', and all dat, but what exactly are ye? And where exactly is this Neathholm?"
Nessa gives Harrol a playful nudge in the ribs, "Finally! I know, right? Just, I wasn't the one that was going to say something."
The channelled warmth of Harrol's grace brings the injured mongrel-folk back to the land of the living, and he reacts with a start before being comforted by the tumor faced female. Lann looks to you with thankful eyes before he is taken slightly aback by the question. Before he has a chance to answer though, Aravashnial speaks excitedly but without tact "They are mole people or pitlings a cast off of the Worldwound's taint must have taken root in their blood and deformed them so. No doubt their home is a hive of mutation and diverse features."
Lann is clearly frustrated by Aravashnial's overt reference, and instead quickly segues onto Neathholm when answering "Regardless of what you see... we are no less than you friend halfling. You are short... I am different, but we are both crusaders against the demons no? Neathholm is where we live.. and it would not be far if not for the tunnel being closed by the earth shake. This way." stopping for a moment to help his still injured kinsman to his feet and checking to ensure they are able to continue.
Horgus looks aggrieved and suspicious... but given the alternative of being left alone in the dark forces himself to follow. Anevia moves once more to the blind elf's side, who hurries his steps to get nearer to the mongrel-folk and looks to be gearing up to barrage Lann with a range of indelicate and direct questions. Aarol follows at the back, leaning heavily upon his spear and Millorn's gag undulates with what must be curses beneath, but naught can be heard - he follows tamely enough.
The path leads on for another thirty minutes worth of walking at hindered pace before you are presented with an obstacle... Ahead, a wide chasm splits the tunnel floor. The floating rock dust in the air and the groans as the tunnel walls settle indicate that the tunnel split recently.
Eudocia tries to insinuate herself between Aravashnial and Lann to soften the elf's line of inquiry as they travel. When they reach the crevice, she halts, dismayed. While she feels confident that she can leap the gap, there are too many in the party who are in no shape to make the attempt.
Nessa dwells on what she hears as they walk, but eventually looks up to Lann, "If you fight the Demons, you're alright in my reckoning. And you're right, being less tall, people tend to think wrongly about me. I..I didn't know what to make of you at first. I thought wrongly too. I'm glad we came along to help your friend."
"Lann, if a few of us jump this, would there be anything ahead that we could get that might help the wounded and others cross?
"Perhaps I should be one of those to try jumping across,that way we have a light source on either side."
She looks a bit dubiously at the paladin's armor. "I can make the jump, Mr. Shadowbane; I'm sure of it. What I might lack in strength, I make up in nimbleness." She considers a moment. "What if those who can't leap were to climb down, or be lowered down, by the rope? We could tie it off on this side until everyone is down, then coil it up and leap across with it, and tie it off on the other side to be climbed -- or pulled -- up? It wouldn't be quick, but it ought to get the job done."
We don't know what's at the bottom of that chasm."Gregori says looking dubiously at the gap,"The first person climbing down could be roach bait"
She grins slyly. "Then lower the dwarf first,"" she suggests in an undertone before looking to Lann to see if he has any answer to Nessa's inquiry.
Lann shakes his head to Nessa "Empty tunnel... from memory" while others send dancing lights to the bottom of the chasm to search for any creatures that might either be attracted to the light or try to assault them while they cross. After a good minute spent looking and listening, you are confident that the chasm is currently unoccupied.
A combination of those confident with their leaping skills and makeshift litters and harness of rope means that the gap is crossed despite the small number in your party that are athletically challenged in one way or another. It takes time, but without interruptions and with due care taken you safely transfer everyone.
The tunnel leads onwards into the distance...
Theodric breathes a sigh of relief at the crossing of the gap, nervously traversing the distance even with help. Then he approaches Lann with curiosity.
We saw what looked like a temple sacred to Torag a short while before we met you. Someone illuminated it with magic, perhaps permanently, suggesting a powerful wizard. Are you familiar with this temple? Are any among you servants of Torag?
Lann shakes his head "No... but we tend not to venture too far from Neathholm. I am not sure how it is above... but there are things of danger in the dark below."
You continue on for another twenty minutes of walking before Lann slows and warns "Be wary... we rarely come this way, a spore-cougher has taken the cavern ahead for it's own. Hopefully it has sought other prey today... but if it has not... we may need steel."
"Do you mean a basidirond?" Docia asks with some alarm. "A kind of walking plant? Its spores affect the mind when inhaled."
Lann's brow furrows at the name of the creature, though the description is apt enough that he nods "Aye, big enough to be wary of and that I'd not risk this path unless it were needed."
She frowns. "Tell us when we're almost there," she requests of Lann. "The wounded should cross the cavern as soon as you've a safe path; I'll try to direct the lights ahead for you. I'm not sure how far the spores spread, but the more distance you can keep, the better. It might help to hold your breath?" she suggests. "I'm really not sure. I've read about them, but...."
Lann holds up his malformed hands with crossed fingers, before he pads forward to peek around the corner. There is a pause before he stands up and waves you forward.
The tunnel opens into a circular cavern, roughly forty feet in diameter. Thick sheets of fungus grow in the cave, and several tunnels branch off. All of these save one in the north wall lead downward; the northern one leads upward. What appear to be two dead bodies lie on the ground in the middle of the cave, next to a strange heap of ropy green fungus.
Pointing Lann ventures "Looks like someone ended the threat for us..." Risking sending her dancing illumination forward, Eudocia picks out a resemblence between the dead bodies attire... and that of Kenabran crusaders...
"Mr. Shadowbane... Brother Harrol," Eudocia murmurs. "Are they...?" She doesn't venture any further into the cavern until those who might have something useful to contribute in the way of identification, healing, or cautious investigation have their chance at the scene.
Gregori moves forward cautiously, drawing his blade as he does, his halo filling the area with light as he approaches the corpses.
Moving forward, Gregori casts a discerning eye over the carnage. The fungal plant is dead, though it claimed the lives of the two men prostrate before it also. From the looks, one succumbed to the spores while the second was bludgeoned by ropy cords of vegetation.
The men are dressed as crusaders of Iomedae, bearing a well made shirt of chain links... but curiously not carrying swords. Each instead bears a glaive and a spiked gauntlet as their weapons of choice. A rudimentary check of pockets reveals a minor curative potion and a scroll with arcane writings. Also, clutched in one of their fists is a small symbol of a brass bull’s head with tiny red gemstone eyes.
"A hard fight it must have been. They have cleared the way for us, but it makes me think more than us might have fallen into these depths."
Nessa will move each body away from the fungus. She will arrange each into a natural recumbent pose. Their weapons she will place in hands.
Gregori stares at the symbol for a moment but is absolutely sure that he has never seen it's like.
Nodding at Nessa's comment he hands Eudocia the potion, storing the brass symbol in his belt pouch.
Gregori has never seen the brass symbol in any of the iconography of the Iomedean church that he is aware of, and Eudocia knows of no imagery either.
"Master Aravanshnial," she announces herself while approaching the blind elf, "there appear to be two fallen crusaders here, but they are bearing a symbol we don't recognize: a brass bull's head with red stones for eyes. Do you recognize that token from any branch of the Crusades?" She turns to Anevia and Horgus Gwerm as well. "Are these soldiers familiar to either of you?" she asks gently, hoping they aren't personal acquaintances of any of the locals.
Theodric studies the magical items with an arcane eye, examining their auras.
The potion is cure light wounds, and the scroll is cause fear.
Eudocia calls the three companions from above forward, as the three from below remain back at the fringes of the cavern. To the question of whether the soldiers are recognized, Gwerm shakes his head after a swift look and soon after Anevia does also after assessing their appearance.
The symbol is described to Aravashnial... though to your surprise it is a cursory look from Horgus Gwerm that elicits results. His eyes flash wide as he intones "That is a symbol of Baphomet... why is it being carried by a crusader?"
Anevia is the first to react "The rumors Irabeth heard are true... the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth are within Kenabres. Oh no... that means they must be above... we need to get to the surface as soon as we can." eyes showing worry and concern.
Aravashnial is as usual ambivalent to the concerns of the genteel and is instead academically intrigued... and you'd wager a little self satisfied "As I thought, curious. We should take the bodies with us... as proof for the crusaders of their presence." as though the fact Kenabres likely lies in ruins isn't sufficient sign of calamity.
Lann also adds from where he lurks on the fringes "Ones dressed as they are have been below before... more frequent of late. We need to get to Neathholm... Chief Suli will want to speak to you."
Harrol rushes toward the corpses, preparing them for their journey into the next life. As the others decipher the meanings of the symbols, Harrol takes a sudden step away. "I... I don't understand. Who are these Templars then now? 'an this Baphomet feller?"
Baphomet is a demon lord.
Eudocia recalls that the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth are a oft rumoured, but little confirmed cult of the demon lord Baphomet. They are thought to insinuate themselves into cities all over Golarion and keep their allegiance hidden. Tales of their ultimate goals are fanciful and varied... but they cannot be good.
Aravashnial is as usual ambivalent to the concerns of the genteel and is instead academically intrigued... and you'd wager a little self satisfied "As I thought, curious. We should take the bodies with us... as proof for the crusaders of their presence." as though the fact Kenabres likely lies in ruins isn't sufficient sign of calamity.
Eudocia glances around at the bound dwarf, the blind elf, and the three sick and wounded the group is already burdened with and takes advantage of his disability to roll her eyes at his willingness to add to their encumbrance. "Perhaps the unholy symbol will be enough," she suggests more gently. "The dead will not prove pleasant luggage if it takes us any great amount of time to reach the surface."
She gives Gregori a troubled glance. "If these infiltrators are in Kenabres in force, could they have had some hand in what befell the city? Perhaps sabotage?" She turns toward Lann. "You say you have seen more of these men? How many, and for how long?" Considering a moment, she reaches into her pack for the bat brooch they found where first they fell. "Is this symbol familiar to you at all?"