”I would wait until tomorrow to burn them. Remember that the great doors were shut behind us. With doors shut before us and behind us, I fear that a fire large and hot enough to consume these bodies might consume all the air in this tunnel. Fires need ventilation. Better to postpone burning these wretches than to suffocate in our sleep.”
Goggeck looks unhappy at this talk, but then a look of resignation crosses his face.
"We can postpone burning the goblin scum. What do you recommend, Hezekh, for opening these doors?"
Urist raises a finger and chimes in. "Ya know, maybe he there's some kinda side entrance? A hidden tunnel? Might be worth checkin' for a drainage chute from tha privy! Or maybe..."
The dwarf marches up to the door, nods, and then knocks politely. Well, politely for a dwarf. So more like a brisk pounding.
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Gunnar scoffs. "I'll serve me own mum a brew o' Goblin spit 'fore ya catch me climbin' up a privy chute."
He leans against a wall, arms folded. "Sides, old ghosts'd never give me a moment's quiet fer that..."
Hezekh turns to Goggeck. "The inscription talks about them opening 'only to the sound of toil.'" the dwarven smith says, stroking his beard. "I was thinking o' maybe pulling me anvil off the cart and doing some hammering in front of the gates, but I dinna ken if that'll do it."
Toulbe gets excited at the idea of "toiling" and bounces back and forth between his feet."I like that idea! OH but maybe if it doesn't respond to the anvil you have ta bang the hammer on the iron door. That's kinda like an anvil's surface too ya?" he says, excited by the puzzle for some reason.
The doors do not respond to Urist’s pounding on them with his fists.
Putting his ear up against the door, there is no sound coming from the other side.
Looking about the chamber again, there is no secret passage to be found.
"Hezekh, I believe you have the right of it and you should try it. Though Toulbe's idea has merit, if yours does not succeed."
Boomer passed the alchemist fire to Toulbe. "Ye should hang ontae these. They'll replace what we just used."
After dealing with the salvage, Boomer took a look at the doors to see if he could figure out if they'd been opened recently.
"If we ain't goin' in now, we should try to barricade these so they won't be opened while we're tryin' tae rest."
I've already voted to wait for morning. Nothing will be more clear tonight than after a night's rest.
"We wait til morning. We should be fresh and ready to face whatever is behind those doors."
"Aye, a good night won't hurt. Doors won't be goin' anywhere 'fore the morning."
"Oi. We restin' then? Let's get a camp se'up an' ah'll get ta checkin' tha place out." Urist says as he turns towards the captain. The two make eye contact, sharing some unspoken message.
Helga nods. "You seem to have things under control, McFatson. I'll leave things in your capable hands. Call on me when the killing starts. You are dismissed."
The phantom casts one last gaze over the crew before she fades from sight, vanishing from this plane entirely.
Urist turns and winks. "Well, that was tha cap'n! See, she ain't so bad." He grins and waves dismissively before going to check on recent foot traffic.
There are plenty of tracks about the area of the goblinoid variety. There’s a concentration of them around the doors, and with the aforementioned dings and scorch marks on the doors, it looks like the goblins had tried, in their way, to open the doors and failed. Other than that, it looks like no one has been through here in a loooooong time.
Hmm. I wonder if we will have a quiet night. I suppose it’s possible that more goblins will come in the night. Best post a good watch.
Boomer went about dragging the bodies into a pile a ways from the camp. They could burn them in the morning before they left.
When teh gristly work was done, he went about the work of building a few fires and set up camp stoves. By the time he was done he had a half dozen pots bubbling.
"The iron one's dinner. The copper ones ain't. Don't get 'em confused."
"I will take first watch."
Boomer gets supper started while the rest clear the barricade, move the wagons in, and set up camp. Everyone’s curious what’s in the copper pots, but a dwarf don’t ask if it ain’t his business. A starchy dinner of mashed potatoes and giblet gravy is your victory meal.
Toulbe directs everyone in setting up the tent, and after the meal is over and the drinks are downed and the fires are reduced to glowing embers, the group decides to hit the sack.
Goggeck takes first watch. The smell coming from the pile of goblin bodies makes him sick in his soul. He notices, however, that the occasional rat is attracted to the stench. Nasty vermin, all of them. He spends his time chasing the little rodents down with his hammer. He starts to have fun with the little game he invented, until the moment he sees six sets of hungry eyes gleaming in the darkness. These aren’t your grandma’s rats. These guys are about as big as a dog, and about as rabid. They look ready to strike the camp.
Goggeck roars:
"TO ARMS! VERMIN SEEK OUR BLOOD!"
He summons holy energies to surround him and prepares to hold the line.
Goggeck’s shouting rouses everyone from their slumber, just as the rats swarm him. He is able to smash the lead rat, but the others get to him.
Only one gets through and sinks overgrown incisors into Goggeck’s calf. It stings a bit.
Irritated, Goggeck steps back from the mass of rats and swings again!
Toulbe quickly clutches his frying pan and stands up looking around wildly.
Much like his companions, Urist slips out of his dreams and into the land of the walking world. He hopes to his feat, blanket still half draped over his form, and reaches for his nearest weapon. He stands ready, dagger in hand.
"Ya carp-lovin' soft-bellied bastards interrupted mah sleep! That's a stabbin!"
Glor stands, 5' steps, glowers at the vermin, and fires earth at the closest target.
Gunnar gets to his feet and grabs his warhammer, growling under his breath all the while. "If it's not ghosts it's the damn vermin breakin' my sleep--I'll pound the lot of ye into steaks and feed ye to yer MAMMY, ya bloody pests!"
Boomer pushed his hat back from where it was covering his eyes, and blinked at the rush of vermin. He didn't even bother getting up. He just reached over to where his tactical vest with all it's pouches and pockets lay, grabbed the last of the explosives he'd mixed up at the start of the trek, and lobbed it toward the swarm in an arc.
BANG!
Boomer nonchalantly launches a bomb amidst the congregation of unusually sized rats, taking out his target as well as a few others. Miraculously, one is left standing unharmed. But Glor quickly solves that problem. The rest of the gang is quickly up on their feet, weapons at the ready, but the threat has been put down as quickly as it sprang up.
The rest of the night passes quietly, and you all get the rest you need and deserve. Morning comes, and you have six dire rat corpses to add to the burn pile, or perhaps do something else with. There's also the puzzle of the door to the Theocrats' Vault to crack. But your rested minds should be able to handle that, certainly.
"Were we short on rations, the burned rats might smell appetising. It is fortunate that we are not! I say that we try the sound of hammer ringing on anvil first."
After a good night's rest Glor wakes, washes, eats, belches, and goes to consider the door.
After tossing his bomb, Boomer pulled his hat over his face again and was asleep before the smoke had finished clearing.
In the morning, he poured what he'd had simmering into a number of vials, then washed the pots out and used them to make breakfast with Toulbe.
"Whatcha got?" he asked between mouthfuls as their resident expert on stone checked the door.
After breakfast, Hezekh unloads his anvil from the wagon, sets it up in front of the door, and commences hammering.
Goggeck stands ten feet to Rory's left, longhammer in hand and ready to fight.
Toulbe takes the time to make sure the worst of the wounds are taken care of before heading back to bed. Upon waking in the morning and talk of potentially eating the rats goes, Toulbe chimes in.
"I can't say I've used the meat before but at least it's more than squirrels. Had a funny uncle once...imagine that, a Gnome with a funny uncle. Anywho, he rather found vermin to be quite the delicacy. I'm not saying I know a recipe...but I reckon I could make a good enough meal you might not think you're eating rat." he said chuckling.
Gunnar waves off the notion of rat meal with a scoff. "Bah. I've eaten worse."
Glor finds that the rockface around the door has been left rough hewn. Ruts in the ground were left behind from carts and wagons entering and leaving the Vault from the Quarry Road. Marks in the cavern floor signify that the doors swing outward when opened. The two statues flanking the doors on either side are carved directly from the rock face. They each depict a dwarf warrior holding a shield with the same insignia on the door, an anvil with a flame above it. The style of the armor they are depicted wearing matches the helm you found left behind by the jelly cube. Glor concludes that a mechanism of great size and strength must lie behind the rock face in order to move the massive doors.
Using his intuition to unravel the riddle, Hezekh creates what the door calls for, the sound of labor. After the third strike of the anvil, a great grinding sound can be heard emanating from behind the rock face. Soon, the great iron doors begin to slowly open outwards, and with a loud booming sound that echoes down the long underground road, they reach their limit. Beyond the doors waits a corridor, 35 feet long, 20 feet wide, and 20 feet high, floors, walls, and ceiling lined with pink granite masonry tiles. Everburning torches illuminate the space from sconces built into the walls. At the end of the corridor stands a statue identical to the ones standing guard outside the door, except for the fact that there is an empty hole in its shield. Two corridors branch off from there, but you can not see down them from this vantage.
As you stand there, you can see movement in the corridor. Standing, waiting for ages in the sealed Vault, four skeletal dwarven warriors begin to stir. Still wearing full beards, wispy with the years, they move in tattered chain mail and wield old battle axes. Their eye sockets glow with a menacing red light.
Standing in front of the statue at the end of the corridor is another skeletal warrior, this one wearing a gold plated breastplate and wielding a gold plated battle-axe. It wears a golden helm with a bright green gemstone embedded in it. This skeletal warrior is engulfed in a golden flame.
The skeletons have been waiting for ages and are the first to act. One rushes Glor and swings with an ancient battleaxe.
It misses.
Another attacks Goggeck.
It too swings and misses.
One goes for Hezekh.
And the last attacks Boomer.
All the skeletal warriors fail to be a threat.
Goggeck temporarily releases one hand from the grip on his longhammer...the one covered in cold iron. Which promptly lashes back at the skeleton.
Glor steps back, gathers and fires earth at his attacker. Its a near perfect show and Glor takes pleasure in striking a blow against these restless dead.
Crit?
Hezekh pounds the skeleton that swung at him.
Urist stares at the opening doorway with a gleeful glint in his eyes. "Nice thinkin' lads. Reminds me o' tha time the trapsmith back at Old Fort lost his..."
Of course, he couldn't even make it to the meat of his story before they were attacked. Horrible, rotting things they are, Urist's muddled mind tries its best to recall any useful tidbits from his studies.
After drawing his kukri, Urist reaches towards Boomer and gives him his reassuring Guidance via magical pat on the shoulder. Those explosives seem effective, but it would be a real shame if he missed!
Gunnar nods in approval as the massive doors slide apart, then frowns at the skeletons rising to welcome the party. He once again pulls his warhammer and moves up to the front.
"Oh aye, the ones in me head weren't enough, now we got the bones of 'em scoldin' us too..."
Boomer calmly stepped back out of range, feeling a bit bad for whoever these kinsmen used to be. "S'rry cousins, we'll get ye set right and restin' well soon enough."
He's heard of special rituals where the dead are treated with molten gold before being raised, giving them special powers. Notably, the golden fire which surrounds a golden skeleton can be dangerous if one gets too close.
Glor blows one of the skeletal warriors to smithereens; bone shards go clattering down the broad corridor.
Goggeck punches at his opponent but misses.
Boomer’s bomb explodes next to three of the skeletal warriors. The flames lick across their armor and bones, but doesn’t seem to slow them down any.
Thankfully, Hezekh punches through a bearded skull, dropping one more skeleton. However, this opens a gap in the line, and the golden skeleton charges through to Hezekh.
The flaming battleaxe cuts neatly through the air and clangs off Hezekh's armor.