Bo cocked her head to the side. "Directions? Why don't you come with me? You can tell me some of what Daly said on the way there, and then the rest when I've completed your task."
She had her suspicions about the small fey, and didn't want to trust to trying to find him/her/it again.
The mine owner flares slightly, the smoke writhing this way and that. Shaking it's head? It is hard to see past the swirling smoke and soot. The table slowly starts to climb the far side of the wheel, and Bo's stomach starts to churn as gravity shifts under her.
"You think I am going anywhere near that mine again, you are crazy. And as far as information...payment due upon services rendered. You help me, I help you. Seems fair enough. Do you not trust my word? Leave your bodyguard to watch over me then."
Wanting to get out of her seat before she became horizontal, or worse, upside down, Bo said, "Well, I guess there's no time like the present. I hope your directions are good, because I am not familiar with your ever-changing city."
[ooc]Does she need some kind of roll to get out of her seat without falling?[/b]
As she moved to the door, Bo motioned Thom over. Softly, she asked, "Is there anything I should know about him, or this job? Would you rather come with me, or stay?"
Bo jumps out of the chair, just as it starts to slide up the other wall. It requires a it of grace to dismount without tripping over the broken beer bottles, and wooden spars but the druid manages to do so. Pearl growls softly as Bo climbs down the spinning wheel and meets her and Thom at the door.
The bugbear says, almost shyly, "I don't like to fight...but Zolavoi are cunning. Be careful when entering their nets...There are many mines on the edge of town, with many dangers and rewards. It is why Godsarm is here, after all."
"Is there any regulation about who owns what mine? I don't want to get tricked into trespassing on somebody else's mine." She suspected that if the fey had any sort of rhyme or reason to their regulations, it would probably be beyond her ability to understand, but she needed to ask.
"Would you mind keeping an eye on him? Her? I'll meet you back here after. Hopefully we won't be long."
Thom says, "Regulation? Ownership?" The bugbear seems somewhat puzzled by this and says, "It is whose it is, of course. Many disputes happen. be careful."
The hulking figure turns to the smoky fey and nods, "I will watch."
It is whose it is. If only life were that simple. Bo supposed it was that simple, and that complicated, for these fey. Nodding, she said, "I will. Thanks for your help."
Motioning to Pearl, she gave the cougar a good scratch, then tried to puzzle out the smoky fey's directions to get through the city.
Finding a way out of Godsarm was surprisingly easy. Locate the loudest sound of construction and demolition and head away from it. Bo navigates the winding crabbed streets, passing buildings of all sorts until she finds a wooden gate leading generally the right way.
Leaving the city is a relief, the noise and smells left behind. After only a few steps Bo finds herself in an alpine meadow, with a steep slope running up, away from her. The grass is bright green and...blue? Bo can't recall much but she is pretty sure grass should only be green. Anyway, otherwise, it looks quite normal. The sky overhead is dotted with fluffy white clouds, blocked by the distant snowy peaks of the mountain range.
A path leads Bo uphill, the druid moving easily up the steep slope. Pine trees sigh in the breeze on either side, filling the air with a fresh, sharp scent of sap and growing things. To the half-orc it was a welcome reminder of nature. Even here, in this strange place, growing things were part of her calling.
The trail winds higher and higher, growing steeper. Around her the ground grows more rocky, along with beds of gravel scree as the trees slowly die away. Soon she is wandering in meadows of bright wildflowers scattered among imposing boulders. Hopefully taking the right turns she finds a small off shooting path. part of her wonders, is she wandering into a trap? Is she too trusting? Would there be something with long teeth waiting for her around a corner? But Pearl seems unconcerned at her side and Shriek is having the time of his life, so she goes on.
Finally, where she roughly expected it, she finds the mine. A gaping maw of shadow cut into the gray stone of the hillside, with a few bits of broken machinery and tools around the entrance. There are no signs of spiders out here. The mine looks tall enough for Bo to walk normally, but no taller.
Bo stares at the mine opening for a good long while. She sniffs the air, and searches the area around the mine for signs of tracks or spoor. Though, if the spiders had come from deeper in the cave, it was unlikely that she would see anything out here.
The druid considered changing her shape, taking the form of an animal better suited to caves. After a moment, she decided to move forward as herself, and wait to see what she found inside before committing to an animal shape.
Pearl at her side, Bo stepped into the gloom.
Bo examines the mine entrance, sniffing the air, looking at the dusty ground. She sees a few signs of recent traffic, but it is muddled and hard to tell. Her nose detects the usual scents of stale water, hard rock and mustiness she expect. However, she also smells....freshly cut wood?
Little better informed, Bo enters into the mine shaft, Pearl at her side. The light dims with every step, fresh air vanishing into a damp miasma of dank air. Several passages peel off right and left, angling off into the gloom. She still detects no signs of spiders, but the air does seem thick.
She is confronted with a choice as the entrance fades behind her. One passage leads straight down, nearly a shaft into the earth. Another climbs up via many stairs, which look very old (probably predating her employer) and another leads on directly ahead, with a wet looking floor.
Bo spends a good while staring at the three options, trying to sort out the lesser of three evils. The stairs seemed like the least likely choice...surely cave spiders would want to be deeper, not higher. The shaft, however, was unappealing. It seemed far too dangerous to explore first off. So after a while, she nodded her head decisively, and made her way straight ahead, walking carefully to avoid slipping on the wet floor.
Bo ignores the plunging shaft and the climbing stairs and ventures on ahead, Pearl at her side.
As she walks, she hears, or thinks she hears something. Footsteps. But not the nearly silent, subtle step of a spider but the heavy tread of an iron boot. Whatever it is, it is faint though, distant.
How big is this mine? It looks old, older then Bo expected. Surely that ashen fey did not carve all of this?
Bo also steps on it, lost in her thoughts. Only out of the corner of her eyes does she see it, a tiny metal wire stretched out at ankle height from wall to wall. Peering down, the druid sees it connects to a tiny brass ring in the wall, then lost in shadow.
Spiders don't make traps, at least not of this kind.
Not for the first time, Bo wondered of she's been set up. The possibilities are many. Worst case, she's been sent into an ambush. Or perhaps the firey fairy has squatters, and used spiders as an excuse to get her here. Or perhaps she was simply in the wrong mine. Maybe she was in the right mine, but it didn't belong to her employer.
None of it mattered just at the moment. She needed to choose a course of action. Deciding on exploration, she stepped carefully over the wire and moved softly down the corridor.
Bo pushes onward, dodging the trap. The passage grows slightly cramped, and then narrows to a low hanging arch. After carefully checking for more wires or pressure plates, the druid looks through the archway.
On the other side is a large room, with a defined grid laid out on the stony floor, newly carved. On the far wall there is a heavy steel door, closed tight. Next to it there are six large metal levers with symbols above them, but they are too far away to read clearly.
Bo's pulse sped up a little as she stared at the trip. She found her tusked mouth turning up into a smile, and wondered why. This is almost certainly going to hurt. Why am I excited? Not for the first times, she wondered what she'd find in her past.
Instructing Pearl to stay put at the doorway, Bo stepped carefully into the room, bracing herself for .... anything.
Straight ahead to e5
Bo steps out onto the grid, wondering what would happen. You heard stories of course, of cursed and trapped rooms where deadly puzzles. Gods knew what might happen. Carefully her boot steps onto the seemingly solid stone, ready for anything. Lighting bolts, savage monsters, gouts of rushing water....
Nothing happens.
The druids looks around. The room seems to be the same, small, stone walled with a large door at the far end.
Bracing herself she takes another step, waiting for the axe to fall.
Nothing.
Soon she is across the room, standing in front of the heavy metal door and the six levers. Close up, she can see the symbols above them.
The first is marked with a "?" mark.
The next four each have a number.
"1", "2", "3" and "4".
The last has a crude symbol of a hat, splashed with some red paint.
Bo was feeling a bit shaky from the build up of adrenaline, and not needing to use it. She forced herself to take a few calming breaths as she studied the symbols.
Pearl, seeing no danger, ignored her instructions and padded up to join Bo. Rumbling an encouraging purr, she pushed her head against he druid's thigh, and the druid felt her heartrate steady.
"Okay, you can stay, but only until I'm ready to pull one of these. Then you go back. Hmmmm.... Okay, well, the hat with the red on it is probably bad. Something chopping off heads? And the others, well, not at all helpful. Why have numbers that don't match their position? And what does the question mark mean?"
Wondering what sort of danger she was facing, Bo took a careful walk around the perimeter of the room, looking for dart-holes, slots for blades to come out, or the like.
Forewarned (or not) Bo sent Pearl back to the hallway, then stood in front of the levers again. "Lucky number three it is," she said, then held her breath and pulled the lever.
Bo doesn't detect any traps along the walls despite her best efforts. However, the walls seem deliberately cut uneven and rough to foil such an inspection. She sends Pearl back, out of harm's way, before pulling the lever marked '3'.
There is a loud clunk as the lever falls into place. As it does so, four areas of the floor suddenly fall away without warning, creating open pits of blackness. Bo waits, but nothing else happens.
Heart pounding, Bo wiped sweat from her brow. "Well, that was exciting." She pushed the lever back up, into its initial position. She didn't expect anything to happen, but she had to try.
The lever clicks quietly into place, distant gears latching together. The open pits slowly re-close, the trap doors re-setting themselves smoothly into the floor, hiding the edges with nearly magical precision. There is more silence as the door stands, still completely immobile.
Making a mental note of which squares had fallen, Bo gingerly stepped to the right onto the square that had fallen and then come back into place. "Hopefully this one should be safe for a different lever," she commented to Pearl. She then pulled lever #2.
Bo grabs the handle and pulls, and it also smoothly clicks into place. Again, there is a moment of silence before a number of floor tiles fall away, revealing a rather hungry looking abyss. The tile she stands on, and the one she was standing on remain firm, as well as all those that fell last time. Clearly it isn't random and certain tiles are connected to certain levers.
The door however, is unmoved.
Bo leaves the strange spinning tavern, her head also churning with new information. At the end, after some discussion and debate, Bo had managed to get the information she needed. The Zolavoi has seen Daly leaving the city by the north gate and even heard him muttering about a place he had to go to. The teifling seemed quite mad, judging from what everyone had said, not himself.
But at least the path forward was clear, the north gate of the city (Although how much did such directions mean in the First World?). She would have to track him overland.
Bo considered visiting more taverns that Daly had visited, but decided against it. It seemed unlikely that she'd glean more clues than she had already.
Turning to Thom, she said, "Let's go back to Dromwreth. I'll need a few supplies before heading out."
Thom nods slowly saying, "The mountains are very dangerous." The bugbear waves a massive, tree-trunk thick arm northwards to the rearing gray mountains climbing to stony, tree-free slopes. "Not many people go that way. Some of the miners, but not far."
Together they wind their way through the chaotic and frenetic streets of Godsarm, doing their best to avoid becoming part of the various construction and demolition projects. Without too much trouble, due to Thom's steady guidance, they find Dromwreth Pyremantle's Items of Convenience and soon find the female dwarf inside.
"Success?" She asks to the point.
Bo cocked an eyebrow at her companion. "Dangerous? How so? Monsters, weather, landscape, everything?" She wondered what the massive, drooling bugbear considered to be "dangerous".
**
To Dromwreth, Bo inclined her head slightly. "Somewhat. We learned that Daly left by the north gate, heading into the mountains. He said something about having to go somewhere, but not where that place was. Apparently he wasn't acting like himself at all, huddled up in a corner at times, muttering to himself."
Remembering the lovely tree-fey Bo added, "Can you tell me about the metal and ruby necklace Daly wore? Some of the fey mentioned seeing it cracked and burned looking."
Thom shrugs, "Any, all....many things are dangerous. The air is thin there....even for the First World. Who knows what you may find?" The bugbear seems evasive on the topic as they head back.
Dromwreth seems pleased Bo hs a solid lead (and a bit surprised too) but frowns at the necklace, "I..I do not know. It was a keepsake, I think. Maybe some minor magical aid, a good luck charm? He never spoke about it or anything, if that is what you are asking?" She pauses and says, "I wonder what is going on with him. Even if he is not himself, he still needs found. Maybe now more then ever."
Bo replied, "Maybe more than a token or keepsake. He certainly seems to be acting erratically - it might be best to really consider that he was acting out of compulsion or necessity. Either way, I will find him."
It had been a long day, and Bo cracked a yawn. "You offered me a room here. I will gladly take you up on it. I'll resupply myself for the expedition, and leave in the morning."
The dwarf nods, still looking troubled by Bo's new. "Of course, of course. The second floor has a few rooms set aside for travelers and customers just passing through town." She glances at Thom and says, "Want to watch the store? I think I might catch a few winks as well."
The storekeeper turns back to Bo and says, "Nice to meet someone else who sleeps. Fey never have to."
The idea of not sleeping at all evoked mixed feelings in Bo. On one hand, you could certainly get a lot done! But on the other...Bo relished her sleep, enjoyed a break from the rigours of the day, some down time to rest and refresh. She wondered if maybe that's one reason why the fae were all a bit mad - never needing sleep seemed....unnatural.
Thinking of the day ahead, Bo asked, "What type of terrain am I likely to find to the north? What are the mountains like? Forested, snowy, rocky? Steel or gentle? I have access to a little magic, and that information can help me prepare best."
Dromwreth shrugs, "I've never been up there myself but you know how the First World is. You go asleep in an alpine meadow and wake up on a sandy beach surrounded by land-based seahorses. This place is insane, and that is a good day."
The dwarf rubs her chin, "However, some of the prospectors venture up that way, and they said the mountains get so high the air is too thin to breathe. So that might be a problem if you have to cross the high peaks. Might want to stick to the lower passes, if you can. The ground is rocky and bare most of the way, the trees giving out not much higher then the city. All kinds of weird creatures lurking up there, I'd imagine."
When Bo mentions the need for supplies the merchant nods, "I'll have a full set of gear waiting for you tomorrow morning. It is the least I can do for you."
Bo tipped her head in gratitude at Dromwreth's offer of gear. She was glad not to have to go out into the city more than necessary, even with Thom's help and guidance.
A mighty yawn made her jaw creaked, and she had to admit she was ready to sleep.
The room Bo is led to is small, not much more then a cell, complete with bed, a small set of empty drawers and a wash basin. Dromwreth fills this up and lays a few clean towels down, before leaving the half-orc to sleep. There is no window in the small room and Bo wonders if dwarves just place less importance on such things. Above her the vast wooden tower creaks and shifts in the wind, making her feeling like she is in the hold of a great ship.
Sleep comes quickly though, regardless of her unusual surroundings. Pearl lays by the bed while Shriek finds a roost in the rafters. As soon as she shuts her eyes, blackness swallows her, like a great abyss.
The next morning she is woken by a knock on the door. "Your gear is piled downstairs, whenever you are decent."
Bo gets ready quickly, eager to be out of the strange, creaking building, and out of the noisy city. She is relieved to find a suitable wooden shield, and several spears - she had felt quite vulnerable without her full compliment of gear.
Heading back downstairs, she found Dromwreth and asked, "Can I borrow Thom again, to get out of the city?" She didn't want to lose a day stumbling around the ever-changing city of the fae.
Dromwreth shares a knowing smile, saying, "I would tell you it gets easier after you live here awhile but....it doesn't. Not really. Fey are just too weird, you know?" The dwarf is digging into a plate of eggs and bacon, reassuringly normal food. Or at least it seems normal to Bo, who can't recall what she used to eat before coming to the First World. For all she knew, she preferred calf's brains.
The dwarf slides a plate to Bo before going on, somewhat hesitatingly. The merchant seems a bit divided, as if unsure of something. "I..just want to say, go easy on Daly if you find him. Judging from what you said, maybe there is something else going on. He might not have taken the money in his right mind. Gods know there is enough reason to go mad in the First World." She says this as if to reassure herself about something.
As Bo eats, the dwarf catches her eye a few times, opens her mouth to say something, but doesn't. Soon enough Thom appears, looking as unwholesome and nightmarish as usual.
Bo greets Thom with a pleasant, "Good morning," though she isn't sure that time of day even means anything here. She then quickly looks away, as a long string of drool hits the floor, looking all too similar to the eggs on her plate. Spirits know he's kind, but he's not a great meal companion.
Sensing that the dwarf had something on her mind, Bo prodded gently, "Dromwreth, if there's anything else, please say it. I'm not here to judge, only to help find Daly. Even if you think it might not be significant, it might be of help to me in my search."
Thom waves a massive, fur lined paw at Bo when she wishes him a good morning.
When Bo reveals to Dromwreth that the dwarf gave something away, the woman's face grows hard. She literally takes a step back, shaking her head. "No, nothing like that. I have told you everything you need to know. You know what you have to do, find Daly and bring him back to me. That's your job, nothing else."
The dwarf softens for an instant though and adds, "Just find him soon....please."
Bo nodded. "Of course. I will hold up my end of our bargain." She didn't bother finishing the implied other half of the comment - she trusted that the dwarf would hold up her end.
Finally the half-orc felt satisfied that she was ready to begin her journey. She was fed, watered, and well-supplied...as much as possible in this strange realm. Shouldering her bag and calling her animals to her, she nodded to Thom and said, "I'm ready."
Pearl at her heels and Shriek floating overhead, they make their way back into the hectic city. With Thom's help, they manage to thread a reasonably safe course between the various construction and destruction sites and not angering any fey busy at their work. Even as Bo watches a large clocktower seems to be abuilding, with many fey scurrying all over it, hammering boards into place. As far as Bo can tell the idea of a 'clock' seems to amuse the residents of Godsarm to no end.
Soon they are at the north gate, little more then a muddy hole in the wooden palisade of the mining town. There might have once been actual doors but they seems to have been carried off (hinges and all), probably for some other building or design. Here Thom stops and glances up at the distant, rearing mountains. Thin wisps of white clouds decorate the gray peaks like frosting.
"Stay safe." The imposing bugbear says, turning back to face the druid. "Many liars in First World."
Startled, Bo stared at the bugbear for a moment. Of all the possible dangers I may be facing, it's dishonesty he's worried about? Curious, she asked, "Are you suggesting I may come across some liars? Or that I already have? Or both?" She hesitated, then asked, "Do you think that fiery fey was lying?"
'Maybe." Thom shrugs but it is one of thoughtful consideration not callousness. He pauses and glances up again at the mountains, then sweeps his gaze back down the street they came, alive with fey and building project. "Maybe all are liars?"
He muses then nods, "Travel safe, Bo of the Material Plane. Maybe we meet again?" The lumbering bugbear turns back into Godsarm, moving with his usual slow, deliberative pace.
Bo wished the odd bugbear farewell - she would actually miss the strange creature. He had been the least....well...fae-like of all the people she'd met here. Including the dwarf.
Glad to be out of the busy city, Bo closed her eyes and breathed the air, felt the sun on her face. After a few moments she felt grounded again, and said to Pearl, "Well, we're off!"
The next three days pass in relative peace. The trail (little more then a goat track outside the town's walls) winds ever upward into the cragged mountains. For awhile, it passes through seemingly endless stands of dark pine trees, smelling of sap and dry needles. The woods are quiet and Bo sees little in the way of wildlife and even Pearl has a hard time finding a decent meal. Shriek however, finds more then a few wood pigeons to state his own desires. It is a reflective sort of place, where the only sound is the mountain breeze in the tall treetops
Then the trail climbs higher and they leave the trees behind. Bo realizes, in some half-forgotten part of her brain, they have climbed above the tree line. Instead of woods, she walks across steep alpine meadows, dotted with low tough bushes and many blooming flowers. The scene is stunning, the still towering gray slopes, the bright splashes of wildflowers, and the almost too blue sky above. Here and there a small spring gushes forth, sending frothing water running down the rocky slopes.
On the third day the path forks and Bo is forced to make a choice. The main part of the trail head straight up a steep incline to a tiny, jagged notch in the imposing peaks, nearly heading to the eternal snowpacks above.
A lesser used path, looking older and poorer kept, seems to stay level, cutting into a strange terrace in the mountain and curving out of sight.
Bo spent the first days hiking in an almost meditative peace. The strangeness of the First World and the fae presence quickly faded away, and for the first time in her memory, she felt truly at home and calm. As she ascended the trail, names of plants and animals came to her - fireweed and paintbrush, different orchids and lilies. And others defied description - perhaps they were unique to the First World.
Though her quarry was never completely out of mind, she didn't need to track hard in order to follow his trail. There was nowhere he could have gone. Until she finally came to the fork in the road.
She stood staring at the two paths for quite some time, slowly coming back to herself. Finally she gave herself a little shake, and unshouldered her pack. Digging Daly's apron out of her pack, she gave it to Pearl to smell. Hoping that some of his scent still was hanging around, she gave the cougar the command to scent-track the tiefling.
EDIT: LOLOL nevermind
The breeze picks up as she pulls the apron, fluttering the cloth. The air has a cold edge to it, a new and frosty feeling that Bo realizes promises colder days and nights ahead. Since seasons didn't mean much in the First World, would the pass ahead even be open? Or would she follow Daly's trial only to be confronted with an impassable wall of icy snow blocking the trail?
Pearl sniffs the apron eagerly, with an air of familiarity. Clearly she has done this with the mountain lion before, even if she can't recall when. Soon the cat turns to the trail, pacing back and forth more like a bloodhound then a cat.
After quite a bit however, the cat seems to give up, coming back to Bo's side. She whines slightly, pushing against Bo in what is clearly an apology.
Bo gives the big cat a scratch behind the ears. "Never mind," she says, "it was a long shot out here anyway."
Packing the apron away again, Bo turns to the smaller path. She would try this way first - no point crossing the entire mountain only to find she'd gone the wrong way.
Bo picks the smaller, lesser used path that curves around the mountain. Pearl seems fine with the choice and the druid has the strange feeling both paths may have carried lingering traces of her quarry's scent. Maybe that is what confounded the cat.
They head down the path with a quick step, happy for once to not be climbing. The air grows colder and clouds roll in, filling the blue vault overhead. Bo sniffs the air and it smells of snow on the way. How bad would it be? Still, for now, no flakes start to fall, just a growing sense of cold.
Bo follows the curving trail, cut into the very mountain itself. The druid has a feeling once, a long long time ago (if time worked the same here) that this was a mighty road with much traffic, maintained by very fine craftsmen. Here and there she sees great cut stones and the remains of graven images in the sheer mountain wall. Most however are long gone, the path little more then a ragged lip hugging the hill, sheer cliff face on one side, and a steep cliff into an endless valley on the other. Still, it seems safe enough and Shriek enjoys it immensely, soaring out over the gaping chasm at their side with obvious joy. Dizzying heights meant nothing to the hunting hawk, of course.
As they round another curve however, Bo sees the end of the trail. Not far ahead it is swallowed by a gaping cavern mouth, dark as night. What remains of the path seems to head inside, making her feel this had been the destination even when the road was in use. At this distance she can't make out much of the entrance, other then it is quite large and obviously man-made.