"Bah, lousy sacks of rattlin' trash. Get back in the dirt!" Helga marches forward, the phantom's grip tightening around her weapons. She advances past the front line towards the nearest skeleton, turning her body to the side for the wind up before swinging an axe in her anger-fueled vigor.
Urist gets a bit of a nervous look on his face as he rushes forward. Something about Helga being ao far away seems to be upsetting him.
Now that Boomer has cleared the front line, the commander moves up and finishes off the remaining skeleton. Likewise, Glor takes care of the golden skeleton from a distance. Thankfully, this time, no one is standing next to it when it explodes in radiant golden fire.
As the sudden burst dies down, the gold-plated axe and armor clatter to the ground. Most significantly, a golden helm encrusted with yet another emerald gem also comes to rest on the smoldering pile of bones.
The halls are now quiet, no more signs of impeding skeletal hordes.
Toulbe struggles a bit more at the door as the sounds of battle soon die. He looks over his shoulder confused and eventually relieved when he doesn't hear the sound of bone on stone anymore.
Boomer looked around to thank Toulbe for the holy water, but didn't see him.
"Where'd our wayward gnome git off tae?"
Glor moves to collect the valuables. another gem. Perhaps another key?
Toulbe swears he felt the wall move, but it could just be his imagination playing tricks due to all his exertion.
As Glor approaches the remnants of the golden skeleton, he turns the corner in the hall and sees a second statue, much like the first. Another key presumes another keyhole, and indeed, this statue too has a gem-sized cavity in the shield.
Toulbe puts his back against the wall and wheezes a bit. He was not in as good of shape as he felt he was. He took a few seconds to catch his breath before mentioning his delusions to the group.
"I think...you can push the door open if you push on this side. Also, I realize now I have a fear of skeletons...so...that's something I learned today." he said nodding a bit.
With gem in hand Glor begins to look for a place to socket it. He keeps an ear out for skeleton noises though.
Sure enough, Glor finds that the gem fits perfectly in the shield socket. Exactly like the first, the gem flashes brightly and then settles into a soft glow.
From here, Glor can see that the stairs north descend down. Past the statue and the stairs, the hall bends around to the left. Not hearing anything dangerous approaching at this juncture, Glor decides to follow the hallway a bit more. Perhaps confirming his suspicions, the hallway wraps all the way around back to the first statue and the rest of his dwarven companions, and Toulbe.
On his way, he finds two more statues towards the west and the south, both with empty cavities awaiting gemstones on their shields. A ramp leads up towards the west, and another set of stairs leads down towards the south. Glor dutifully reports this to his companions.
We will even eventually explore this entire complex so it matters little which is first. Still I say let us explore up before doing deeper. and if we can find a good place to bed down I am all for resting soon.
Gunnar picks up one of the weapons of the broken skeletons, examining it with a snort. "Wonder how long they've been down here..."
"Up suggests softer targets to me. We may as well pick them off first."
"Up sounds good. Who knows how far down this complex goes. If it connects into the Darklands, down could take years to fully explore. Up can only go so far."
After a bit of discussion, you decide to go up the western ramp. It is a long ramp with a gradual incline, and you figure it'd be easy enough to get the wagons up here... although you've now blocked their passage by moving that one statue. oops.
After some grumbling, you finally emerge at the top of the ramp and enter into a large octagonal chamber. Halls branch off to the north and south, and directly across the chamber is a large hall which lead to to large iron doors very similar to the ones that you opened and entered through to get into the Vault from the Old Quarry Road.
In the dead center of the chamber is another large statue, presumably of a dwarf, yet you are staring at its backside. This one differs from the ones you've come across so far. It's not stone, but made of bronze, and it stands on a high granite pedestal. Instead of a warrior clad in armor and holding a shield, you are met with a shirtless, muscular back, and it appears to be standing before an anvil.
Most remarkably, Hezekh and Glor are quick to notice, one would presume a bronze statue at least 250 years old should show signs of oxidation and tarnish. Yet, this statue shines with a polish and sheen that is a beauty to behold. Hezekh gets a tickling sensation in his beard that tells him there's something special about this bronze.
Goggeck stares at this magnificent piece of dwarf sculpture.
A smith. Perhaps a statue of Torag? Glor declairs as he moves for a better look at the face. Likely facing out of another entrance. How high did we climb? Any chance this could lead outside? Note the lack of tarnish on the bronze. This had either been polished recently or is not ordinary bronze.
"Who's been polishing tha'?" Boomer asked, regarding the gleaming statue.
"Lads, this is no ordinary Bronze. No, I'm not quite sure what it *is*, but it's not ordinary, that's for sure."
Urist approaches the statue with a look of awe plastered across his face. "Oi, would'ja lookit that, lads. S'ome fine carved dwarf if I ever saw one." He gets closer, striking a pose similar to the bronze figure.
"Hah, a real bit o' work this is. Reminds me o' this miner from tha Old Fort. Carved out 'alf the bloody thing 'imself, an'e did mosta tha metalworkin' ta boot. 'Ad a body like an ox that ate another ox!"
Again, Urist flexes to articulate. But this time, he really puts his back into it.
"An' ah mean it about tha ox thing. The lad was so thick 'e looked like a cube'a stone. We used ta use 'em fer a table in the feastin' hall. Didn't seem ta mind it, either."
Unfazed by her subordinate's display, Helga moves to investigate the room. More specifically, she moves around to check out the anvil in front of it. "Keep your eyes sharp. Who knows what sort of filth is skulking around here."
Moving about and up to the statue for closer inspection, it proves to be a dwarf, a truly idealized version of a dwarf. Perhaps not Torag, as it is bald headed, and most depictions of Torag have him with a full set of the most beautiful locks. It’s craftsmanship is beyond superb, flawless even, which sets it apart from what you’ve seen of this place already.
The dwarf is shirtless, but wears heavy trousers and boots. It wields a large warhammer which seems to be made of a blackened steel. Hezekh’s beard tingles at the sight of it. The anvil seems to be a normal anvil, nothing really special about it, other than being larger than life.
As you gather round and begin discussions, the statue suddenly moves. It bangs its hammer hard against the anvil and lets the sound ring throughout the halls.
it booms out in a deep bellowing voice.
After the last strike of the anvil, the statue falls silent, then looks about the chamber, then looks down at the lot of you.
“Hmm, dwarves ye may be, but yer countenances are none that I remember. Be ye traders? Diplomats? Visitors from afar? Where are my masters? Where is ”
Goggeck stands in front, hoping to shield the others should this come to violence.
"We be explorers, sent by King Dal Dberryl of the Everlasting Kingdom of Taggoret. We seek to reclaim this long-silent hold in the name of dwarfkind and to recover the Axe of the Dwarvish Lords. I am Goggeck Ghack, servant of Trudd. Who might you be, good-dwarf?"
And I be Glor of family Stonebeard. I am a miner and engineer and a worker of earth. As we are in the service of King Dal Dberryl we are the rightful inheritors of this place adn claim it in his name. Truly he will be pleased that such guardians still reside here to watch.
"Which almighty emperor ye lookin' for?" Boomer asked. "There've been a few over the years. For some reason, their almightyness don't seem tae last long."
Gunnar strokes his beard at the quality of the statue, nodding in approval. He jumps only slightly as the figure comes to life, wondering at its apparent confusion.
"Well now...nobody said anythin' about talking bronze..."
Could it be...skymetal? Hezekh wonders, thinking of the wondrous material like Elysian Bronze and Fire-forged Steel. Metals he'd never had the privilege of working with, but had heard tales of. Then it moved. Proudly Hezekh stood before the statue, and spoke. "This hold has long been silent, abandoned in ages past. We have come to reclaim it and return it to its ancient glory!"
The statue leans over its anvil and seems to scrutinize each and every one of you and your words.
The resounding silence emanating throughout the long abandoned complex stands in complete contradiction to the Image of Droskar’s words, but he doesn’t seem to notice.
i'll not be doing that brassy. Glor says as he moves away. Dust and sand begin to swirl aroud him. I believe ya when ya say High Emperor Theocrat Ordrik Talhrik was the true king. "WAS". That was ages ago. The empire is no more. Our king wishes to renew it and that is partly why we are here. Now you can be part o' the solution, or part o' the problem...
Goggeck stares at the face of the construct, not quitting.
"Construct, *listen*. The only toil here is ours, bringing swift destruction to the undead that infest this place. Any suffering is a figment of the distant past. I will *never* renounce Trudd, or the great pantheon, nor the King I serve. The *living* king. What say ye? Will ye aid dwarves, or fight them?"
Oh boy, here we go. "Talhirk is long dead. His toil has long since ceased. Look around and see the truth in those words, golem. When we entered this place, naught but skeletons greeted us. It is ye who should stand down."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Helga stares up at the bronze colossus through her mask. Though her face is covered, the trembling in her ectoplasmic form betrays her fury. The leather around the hilt of each axe cracks as she grips them.
"Alright, listen ta me, ya pile of melted coins. Lest ah cleave yer legs off and say it to ya face-ta-face!" Behind the commander's mask, her eyes seem to smoulder.
"First thing's first. I am commander Helga Silverbrew. I've already died fer King Dal Dberryl and I'll gladly do so again. So ya best show a bit of respect before ah shove my foot so far up yer arse that ya'll be doin' a sit-up every time I bend mah knee!"
"Second, yer king and all 'is people are likely dead an' passed on. Besides us, there's nothin' but dust and bones. So ifn' ya want some work goin' on in here, then get out of our way or help us clear it out. An' if ya won't accept tha truth, then so help me I'll yank out one of yer' eyes an' wear it as a belt buckle so ye can SEE what the hell ah'm talkin' about while we do our jobs in this blasted place!"
Urist looks a bit pale as he sizes up the construct, and the commander does her best to meet its eyes.
The Image of Droskar straightens back up, seemingly considering your words. It again looks about the large chamber, maybe finally taking in the silence and emptiness of this place.
"Fine then," it begins, no longer shouting. "Even if what ye say is true, this is still the House of Droskar, and I still move with his divine spark. If ye have come to reclaim this place in the name of dwarvenkind, so be it. I will help ye clear this place of all vermin so that these halls can once again be filled with the screams of children and the cries of the oppressed."
With an incredible booming thud, the large statue steps down from its granite pedestal. It seems you have its begrudging cooperation, at least for now.
That was close!
"We welcome your decision. Do you have a name or title, besides construct or golem?"
Toulbe slips out from behind the wall of dwarves, a small journal in hand. He looks up with wonder and awe. "Oh dear, and I thought you dwarves were tall. Goodness, and that's to be truly metal there? It's not some fancy trick of the careful placement of plating to look like a statue?" he asked, his eyes full of childlike wonder.
"I could write for days on the shine alone. I'd give half my precious, perfectly cared for Mustache for cookware that never aged like this." he said in awe.
Did that think just say something about screams of children and the cries of the oppressed? What did we just team up with? Glor whispers.
"We convinced it to accept certain realities. Perhaps we can convince it of others. And if not, then we stop it.", Goggeck quietly replies.
Right. I am not so sure about this High Emperor Theocrat Ordrik Talhrik fellow either. Anyone know anything of his reign?
Gunnar scratches his head, glancing to his left and right in exasperation. "Who says all our ancestors have to be ghosts, eh? Let's do what we're here to, then."
Goggeck replies, reciting from rote memory:
"Ordrik Talhrik was a cleric of Droskar when his cousin, King Garbold Talhrik, died of adult onset murder. Ordrik claimed the throne in 4369, thus beginning the 13 years long Forge War. The priests of Droskar defeated the loyalist generals and ushered in the age of Droskar's Kingdom, which fell in 4466. The Theocracy of Droskar's Kingdom was marked by a heavy decline in the quality of dwarven craftsmanship and the forced worship of Droskar. Ordrik was the last known dwarf to claim the Axe of the Dwarvish Lords, and the decline of his kingdom is clouded in much mystery. And that is what I know."
From here there are hallways to the north and south, or you can go back down the ramp.