The bound dwarf shows no sign of recognition of the bull's head symbol.
Aravashnial begins to protest, but a firm hand on his arm from Anevia serves to re-inforce "Aye, first we need get above... then we can worry about the rest."
Lann thinks a few moments before speaking "In the last month they have become more noticeable... I think also they have an arrangement with the lesser of our cousins... but Chief Sull will speak of that." a tinge of shame upon his voice as he speaks of the cousins - which you take to likely mean more mongrelfolk.
The production of the bat brooch elicits a reaction also. Lann wide-eyed "Where did you find that?..."
"Where we fell, near an abandoned campsite," she replies. "Do you know it?"
"Wait! What? These stiffs worship the demons?" She kicks the weapons out of their hands and drags them back to the fungus. "Eaten by fungus is too good for 'em, but we are short on time to treat them to what they deserve."
Lann just repeats "Best I leave that to Sull."
Lann is eager to be onwards within the caverns "We are not far, twenty minutes more and we will be among friends and can speak at length... there is still chance that something else will come upon us here."
Nessa will strip off any valuables including chain shirts, "Better to let the fungus get in there and eat up your sorry hides...demons? I just can't get over that."
Once she is done, she will ready herself near the entrance the group first came through with full intent to head back the way they just came.
"We are not far, twenty minutes more and we will be among friends and can speak at length... there is still chance that something else will come upon us here."
The news that they're within twenty minutes of something approaching civilization does Eudocia's Taldan heart good. "Yes, let's move on, if we've everything we need from here."
True to Lann's words, the way onward takes you roughly twenty minutes at your hamstrung pace. You soon reach a circular, 20-foot-diameter cavern where four mongrelfolk stand guard before a large stone door. They initially flash wary looks, especially given that you are accompanied by light, but at the sight of Lann warm greetings are offered. He sidles forward and with a short exchange of words barters safe passage for you all within. You can overhear a couple of half words spoken "...brooch... son.... Chief..." before you are led on. The dwarf in rope is viewed with jaundiced eye, and Horgus' open disdain also draws some ire... but there is a small mercy in Aravashnial's lack of sight meaning that he does not stare.
Once through you see that a small, dark lake ripples in the center of a two-hundred foot wide cavern, the walls and ceiling aglow with thick sheets of luminescent fungi. The glow is enough that you should not need the halo nor dancing figments of light that had guided you so well to this point. In the center of the lake, over two dozen low stone buildings cluster on a rocky one-hundred-foot-wide island. Lights glow in the windows of the buildings, giving the settlement an almost welcoming look. Rafts made of mismatched planks of timber bob along the length of a crooked pier at the lake’s closest shore.
Lann sets a decent pace through the streets, making a bee-line for the largest building. The other two mongrelfolk that you saved melt into the settlement, likely back to their homes.
With a sigh of relief, Eudocia lets her dancing lights gutter out and rubs her brow with her fingers. Repeated casting of the cantrip over the past two days has given her a headache. She follows Lann closely, aware of the extent to which surface-dwellers are outsiders in this community.
Nessa has a look of wonder on her face as she walks, for such a special site as this, is straight out of the wildest stories she ever heard while sitting around caravan fires. And now she has her own version to tell.
Theodric is impressed with the uniqueness of the underground city, but is moreso relieved at the chance to rest in relative safety. He follows hastily, wishing to speak with the chief and learn all he can.
Allowing his halo to diminish Gregori sheathes his sword as he follows, as much a symbol of their goodwill as a response to the sense of community he perceives.
Harrol looks distraught as their mongrelfolk companions meld back into the crowd, looking very small and very lost in the alien city. He shrugs and forces a smile, turning to the others. "Well, I'm grateful fer a place ta rest moi feet, anyhow. an' I could rake a bit of food, like. I wonder what they'd be eatin' down here?" he says, ponderously, to nobody in particular. "Mushrooms fried in butter wit' a wee bit of garlic. I'm choosin' to stay optimistic. The thought of another night of mouldy dwarf food is enough to make Saint Cassius cry..."
Lann chuckles as he leads you towards the largest building atop the island’s low central peak "Not quite little one... we have fungus... but little to flavor it. Come, the Chief is within" and he ducks within the doorway.
Millorn is left outside the Chief's building, with the crippled, blind and unhelpful companions of yours to babysit them at least for the immediate term.
Entering immediately after Lann you find yourself before a bloated and unpleasant looking mongrel-folk. He is obese of body, rat-like of feature and has a clouded white eye that is likely sightless. Nevertheless, he rises from his chair concerned at the sight of you, but heartened by the return of Lann. The rat-like mongrel-folk bids you "I am Chief Sull, sit, please while I speak with Lann" before retreating to the back of the room and exchanging hushed and quick words with Lann. Soon though he returns to his chair with a sombre and thankful countenance upon his face.
"Lann has told me of the aid you offered... and I will give you my thanks also. We are not many, and if not for your aid... we likely would have lost one of our kin. You are among friends now... but I must ask of three questions"
"What has brought you below?
What know you of the tremors that have shaken these caverns?
And... and.. how came you of the brooch?" the last question half catching in his throat as it is spoken.
Eudocia exchanges glances with Gregori, uncertain if she was under any constraint with regard to what information she might share. Captain Dawei hadn't charged her with any secrecy; then again, he could hardly have suspected she'd end up deep beneath Kenabres speaking with the demon-tainted descendants of the original Crusaders.
"We came accidentally," she responds, "as a result of the tremors. A crack opened up beneath us in the city above, and we fell. If not for magic, we most likely would not have survived. As to what caused the tremors, Kenabres came under sudden attack. I honestly don't know whether the enemy tunneled from beneath the city and caused the tremors or if the earthquake itself was of arcane origin. There was no time...." She presses her lips tightly together, shaking her head at the memory of their nightmarish last seconds on the surface. "As for the brooch," she retrieves it from her pack once more and holds it out for the chieftan to see, "it was at an abandoned campsite near where we fell. I take it that it has some significance to you?"
His good eye narrows at the words of the enemy "Have the demons come in force upon us? I thought the warding rock was to hold them at bay?" slamming his fist forcibly into the armrest of his seat "You seek to make for the surface again?"
Sull slumps slightly in his seat at the words abandoned "Yes... it was my sons. We had thought him lost to us... but to know this now confirms it." his good eye misting slightly in remembrance "Could I have the brooch returned to me? - for the memory of what has been lost?"
His good eye narrows at the words of the enemy "Have the demons come in force upon us? I thought the warding rock was to hold them at bay?" slamming his fist forcibly into the armrest of his seat "You seek to make for the surface again?"
"I... we don't know what happened," she replies. "Almost as soon as we knew the city was under attack, the crack opened beneath us and we fell. But yes, we are trying to find out way back to the surface and discover what happened ... and how."
Sull slumps slightly in his seat at the words abandoned "Yes... it was my sons. We had thought him lost to us... but to know this now confirms it." his good eye misting slightly in remembrance "Could I have the brooch returned to me? - for the memory of what has been lost?"
"To be clear," she puts in, "we found no humanoid remains. I don't say this to give you false hope, only to be no more than truthful about what was found. Simply because the campsite was abandoned does not prove your son's death. We found a dwarf who tried to kill us on our way here and are returning him to the surface for trial; his campsite is now abandoned, but he is not dead."
Before handing over the brooch, Eudocia looks to Gregori for a nod or a dissuasion.
Gregori senses no falsehood within Chief Sull's words, and he feels an easing of the tension that was at his fingertips within the tunnels within Neathholm. A feeling of relative safety, and a place where one need not be so vigilant to watch one's back.
Nessa remembers the disgusting bugs near the camp site but feels that won't help the story much, Better to think that he ran from them.
Sensing no restraint from the paladin, Docia gives the brooch to the chieftan. "If I may ask, is there some significance to the images depicted? A family crest, perhaps? Or is the item merely decorative?"
Chief Sull takes the brooch and you can see thanks in his eye "There is no reason to it's symbol... except for memory." after a moments pause he reaches behind and to the side of his seat and retrieves a well-made morningstar, proffering it to Eudocia "A gift freely given after a gift freely given... Please"
"I know of no dwarf who lives in the caverns... but if you speak of his guilt, then I would not doubt it." rubbing his whiskered chin "If trust can be given, we could hold him here... I trust you seek the world above? - there is a near way, but danger blocks us from the sun-kissed world above."
Theodric steps forward a bit, responding as he does:
Thank you for your hospitality, chief. Theodric Abernathy, recent recruit. We seek the way back, yes, but I'm not sure how wise a course of action that is at this moment. We mustn't lessen the severity of the attack on the city--though we don't know to what extent Kenabres has been damaged, we did see a demon lord lead the charge just before we fell. He slew Terendelev, the silver dragon, in single combat. Her last act before she died was to slow our descent, saving us even as the demon assailed her. Wardstones don't fail--this was sabotage. I don't know what magic could do such a thing, but perhaps Aravashnial can speak to this.
Eudocia holds her hands up to refuse the heavy weapon. "Your gift to us is your people's kindness and hospitality. The brooch was never ours to give; we merely found what was lost and returned it."
"As for the dwarf, he is a wizard of some kind and appears to be broken in mind; I wouldn't burden you with his care. He was taken into custody in the name of the Crusades, and they must be responsible for his disposition."
Thank you for your hospitality, chief. Theodric Abernathy, recent recruit. We seek the way back, yes, but I'm not sure how wise a course of action that is at this moment. We mustn't lessen the severity of the attack on the city--though we don't know to what extent Kenabres has been damaged, we did see a demon lord lead the charge just before we fell. He slew Terendelev, the silver dragon, in single combat. Her last act before she died was to slow our descent, saving us even as the demon assailed her. Wardstones don't fail--this was sabotage. I don't know what magic could do such a thing, but perhaps Aravashnial can speak to this.
She frowns slightly at the mage's interjection. "Master Aravashnial is a Riftwarden who was blinded by fire in the attack," she explains to the chief, "and if he has anything useful to say on the subject you'd think he might have done so when we asked him about it," she continues under her breath. "You don't think we ought to return to the surface?" she asks Theodric. "What ought we to do, then? How can we know what our duty might be without first knowing the condition of Kenabres?"
Without seeking to stand between Eudocia and Theodric, Chief Sull adds "If your Riftwarden was blinded... we have no skill or art to salve that here - his only chance for aid would be above... and the only way to get there is via our shame. There is a nearby tunnel to the surface, less than an hour's travel... but between us and it lie the traitors."
"Ones of our kind that have not honoured the memories of our ancestors... they have turned from the light... and fallen into dark."
"And I presume that these 'traitors' would be disinclined to let us pass peacefully?" Eudocia asks with a frown. "Is there no other way that you know of to reach the surface?"
Chief Sull sighs and looks down "I fear not, no... we know them to hold troubling alliances with cultists and perhaps worse. And there are other ways... but they are far and we have no knowledge of whether they are still open given the heaving of earth."
He mulls a thought a moment before continuing "Would you carry word from us to the surface? If your kinsmen will allow us to stand beside them... we are ready to follow in the footsteps of the first and fight against the demons at your side. If what you have said is true, Kenabres may need all able hands to re-forge it from ruin."
Nessa beams up at him, "Yes Sir..I mean, Chief! True allies are what we need right now, and something the demons will never get to count on. If the way through your lesser cousins is passable with just us cracking some heads, well that is the way I pick. They chose their fate siding with the cultists and demons, I will just see they get to their earned reward all the quicker."
Eudocia seems less thrilled than the Small woman at the prospect of killing anything that stands in their way. "How many of these traitors are there?" she asks the chief. "Have they a whole town like this one?"
"They are less than us... but more than you. I would wish that we could aid you in the taking with blood... but our men are few and scattered - it will take time for me to contact the other outposts of my kind. We can offer you succor here, and some small stock of curatives as gesture towards future alliance... and I beg you to take my weapon. Return it to honor through use... please..."
She frowns slightly at the mage's interjection. "Master Aravashnial is a Riftwarden who was blinded by fire in the attack," she explains to the chief, "and if he has anything useful to say on the subject you'd think he might have done so when we asked him about it," she continues under her breath. "You don't think we ought to return to the surface?" she asks Theodric. "What ought we to do, then? How can we know what our duty might be without first knowing the condition of Kenabres?"
I don't know what the best course of action is, but I think a moment to discuss it would be prudent. After all, it isn't hard to discern the motives of a demon--chaos, death, ruin. But this was sabotage, planned in advance. The wardstone is either destroyed or temporarily suppressed. And let's not forget the Balor leading the charge. I assume their ultimate goal was not merely to raze Kenabres. An attack of this magnitude likely has a greater purpose--If the demons could escape, they could strike at easier targets. More destruction, more ruin. The most logical conclusion is that the strongest of the demons have taken this opportunity to flee. But one cannot always assume logic from a demon. And if a lesser demon could incapacitate Aravashnial, what good can we do? Next to him, I am not much more than an apprentice. But I will go, when the time comes.
Chief Sull sighs and looks down "I fear not, no... we know them to hold troubling alliances with cultists and perhaps worse. And there are other ways... but they are far and we have no knowledge of whether they are still open given the heaving of earth."
He mulls a thought a moment before continuing "Would you carry word from us to the surface? If your kinsmen will allow us to stand beside them... we are ready to follow in the footsteps of the first and fight against the demons at your side. If what you have said is true, Kenabres may need all able hands to re-forge it from ruin."
Theodric considers this news for a moment.
Chief, perhaps you could spare an envoy to guide us on this path. When we reach the surface, a first-hand account of your exploits could lend credence to the persistence of the crusaders of Neathholm.
Sull looks to Lann at his side and the mongrel-man gives a small nod. The Chief then looks back to you "Lann can walk with you, show the ways and where the traitors dwell. Once they have paid for their treachery, he can act as my envoy to your kinsmen above."
I don't know what the best course of action is, but I think a moment to discuss it would be prudent.
"True, Mr. Abernathy: We have been so focused on our own survival, we've not taken the time to discuss what our options might be when we reach the surface. That's a conversation we definitely ought to have, preferably when Master Aravashnial is present to lend us his expert opinion on the situation in Kenabres."
"We are in your debt, chief," she thanks Sull, "both for the potions and for the offer of aid to the Crusade. It's my opinion that the rift between those above and below the surface has been unbridged too long. We will certainly champion your offer to the proper authorities when we reach the surface, and we welcome Lann's company. Might I suggest that, if you wish your weapon to see honorable use, you entrust it to Lann's employ? Let one of your own people wield his people's weapon in the fight against the demons."
"Yes. It will be good to have friends above and below, only Chaldira knows how many holes I have fallen down. It will be nice knowing I might find my way back here, or you finding your up to our barracks...Once we get up there and help in the mop up of the demons, of course."
Nessa demeanor reflects none of the attitude that Kenabres will be in perpetual danger despite their last view of it or their current situation.
"We would be honored to take your wishes and sense of allegiance above with us. Thank you for your provisions, we greatly appreciate any halp you can provide." Gregori says solemnly
Chief Sull smiles, with one eye showing some degree of happiness and the other milky white and devoid of life. "Excellent, please make a home of yourself here if you have need of rest... Lann will see you to a place where you might rest if it is needed and let me know when you plan to depart so that I might see you off with a blessing."
For now, the morningstar is carried by Lann and he shows you out of the chamber and towards a nearby barracks like house where there are mats upon the ground. "It isn't much, but please let me know if there is anything you need... I'll return soon with food."
Horgus claims a corner, scowling at you and distastefully regarding the state of the mongrel-folk's accommodation. Anevia sees Aravashnial situated, and they then both take advantage of the safe surrounds to rest themselves upon their backs.
"Anything fermented down here? Lack of travelers probably rules a tavern right out, huh? I was hoping to meet a few of your folk. Maybe swap stories."
"Have you any libraries? Museums? I'd love to learn something of the history of your settlement while I am here."
"Food in my belly, a warm foire and some place dat I can rest me poor, tired feet! I'm dead tired, so I am!" the halfling says cheerfully. "Oh! And some place I ken see to the wounded proper-like!"
Harrol will spend the evening tending hurts and chirpily making conversation.
When sleep begins to claim his companions he edges toward the fire, looking gravely at his companions. "How many, do yew tink? Up there in Kenabres...? I... I'm wantin' to know how many to pray for, now."
Lann half smiles at Nessa "We have some things that are half-rotted if that's what takes your fancy... but there is not much call for drink to take away your focus. If you wish to share, I can brew tea?"
"We do not have much call for books either milady, our history is spoken from mouth to ear and passed that way. Seer Opoli is the eldest among us and with the longest memory. We can go to see him if you wish?"
He then leaves you for a short while, before returning with a small cauldron of thick stew and wooden cups and spoons. The stew is aromatic and heavily spiced, and what chunks float within are fungi at a guess. Gingerly tasted, it proves to be far from fine dining... but is at the least palatable.
"We do not have much call for books either milady, our history is spoken from mouth to ear and passed that way. Seer Opoli is the eldest among us and with the longest memory. We can go to see him if you wish?"
"Excellent," Docia accedes eagerly, patting her pack and pockets. "I've ink and a pen.... Is there parchment for sale anywhere?"
Lann frowns in thought before confirming "I should be able to get you some."
Seer Opoli joins you after the meal and spends a few hours with Eudocia and Nessa, passing on some of the stories that the mongrelfolk hold within their oral history. He is an elderly man whose skin flakes as though he has a severe skin ailment, and his jaw is overlong to be human.
The tales center around the first crusade, where those that came before fought the demons. Heroism, cautionary stories against deceit by demons that change their shape and compassion over the fallen are the main themes. Then came the conclusion and the crusaders that fought in the Worldwound came back changed... mutated by it's foul taint. Driven into outcast and obscurity by those above, it seems there was a schism.
Some of the outcasts retained purity of heart and longed to rejoin their surface brothers in fighting, while others had resentment lodge in their heart and grow like a weed. There is little of the recent history that holds much interest, predominately being moralistic tales to teach how to live in a righteous way. Aravashnial and Anevia join in listening to the stories, but you are able to dissuade the elf from offending your hosts too much with directed and rude inquiry.
The Seer departs with Lann after stories have been told and you rest. Upon awakening Horgus demands to be underway immediately, Anevia is anxious to rise and find word of her wife.
"How many, do yew tink? Up there in Kenabres...? I... I'm wantin' to know how many to pray for, now."
Eudocia shakes her head soberly. "I can't imagine how they could ever have been turned back. They were so many ... and so powerful. Unless someone was able to reactivate the wardstone...," she glances at the blinded elf. "Master Aravashnial, Mr. Abernathy raised a point during our audience with Chief Sull: What could have caused the wardstone to fail? Could it have been sabotage? Perhaps something to do with those Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth? You reacted as if you had suspected their presence."
"Inside corruption would definitely bode poorly for the rest of the defenses," Gregori says grimly, "but I'd be hard pressed to figure how they could overcome it from the outside."
Aravashnial gives a solemn nod "Yes, I have long suspected that cultists lurked within the heart of Kenabres... acting against the crusades and poisoning hearts and minds. To find them here below and in guise of the faithful is vindication." voice tinging towards excitement at the end of his speech.
"As to what has been done to the wardstone... I do not know. The making of them is far beyond my skill at the art... though I would suspect that a simple assault would not harm them overmuch. Some kind of ritualistic magic would be needed."
Nessa thanks the Seer Opoli for his story, "Thank you Grandfather. I will see that your tale gets told up above. Letting them know that there are those down here with the will to fight for whats right."
"As to what has been done to the wardstone... I do not know. The making of them is far beyond my skill at the art... though I would suspect that a simple assault would not harm them overmuch. Some kind of ritualistic magic would be needed."
Docia nods at his expert opinion, somewhat encouraged. "Magic done can be undone. It may even have been of limited duration and the demons forced out again after a period of time," she concludes hopefully.
Theodric listens with interest to the stories of the underground world, filing away the history in his memory while discarding the ethical advice without too much thought, thanking the elder for his knowledge. The scholar is even more attentive, though, at the Riftwarden's mere mention of the wardstone. He looks as though he wants to say something, but for once holds his tongue.
Then, later: I'm going to peruse the madman's writings again and see if any kernel of insight can be gleaned from his ravings. Please do not interrupt my study--I need to concentrate. I'll see you all in the morning.