James fires two arrows at the div, landing the first!
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Xenon draws his trident in one hand and stabs at the beast next to him!
He then 5ft steps to the northwest in an attempt to start circling around it.
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Xenon draws an oversized fork and stabs the leopard!
The spectral hand of the div floats over to James and touches the man!
Nuria quickly ends her performance, allowing James to resist being cursed! She then begins inspiring the party once more!
Torque slams his weapon into the leopard, dropping it!
Damien then blasts the floating hand, making it disappear!
The remaining leopard attacks Xenon, managing to land a bite on the man!
The div barks out in a harsh infernal tongue, barking at Nuria in anger. The words leap into the minds of all present. "Do you treasure that beauty of yours, mortal? Let me save you from your hubris!"
The creature begins an incantation.
The div seems to shrug off the wave of sound, but the magic missiles spark blue as they pierce the creatures defenses! The pain causes the creatures spell to fizzle and fail.
Master Hershelbarr and the snarling fiendish leopard circle each other - the cat hissing as blood oozes from its chest. It snaps and claws at the hunter, leaving a thing line of blood across his sword-arm.
Already wounded from the sorcerer's missile, the pair of arrows thud into the twisted genie and it stumbles back into the wall. The cry it lets out from its singular tooth-ringed eye is inhuman and shrill, but lasts only a moment before it falls dead.
With a well placed strike the fiendish cat howls and stops moving.
Looking about the room, it soon becomes clear that the div was not a normal inhabitant of this level of the Spire (although little in the spire can be said to be native). Numerous pieces of automatons lie scattered about the floor of both this room and a chamber to the east. Stairs to the next level down also lie in a room to the east, with another smashed automaton.
The door to the west opens up into the a stunning sight. Parts of this chamber look like they were recently excavated. To the southeast, a curving cylinder of green crystal—part of the Emerald Spire—fills a quarter of the room. It is the same crystal the Pathfinders have seen running throughout the Spire.
A pale yellow humanoid with blank, bulging white eyes and gangly arms and legs sits in the excavated part of the room. Pickaxe in hand, it seems to be utterly absorbed in the task of further digging out the chamber. It seems to ignore the pathfinders as they enter.
The creature looks up briefly with its milky white eyes, stares at Torque for a moment uncomprehendingly before returning to work.
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"Torque, I think its a pech - a kind of fey or the earth. Maybe it doesn't speak Taldane? We could try one of the languages of the earthen folk - Terran or Undercommon, or maybe one of the Fairy tongues, like Aklo or Sylvan. I do have the magic of tongues at my disposal - but whatever we do, lets be gentle. They're supposed to be quite shy and reclusive. It might not want to talk very much."
The wide eyed creature looks up from its work, a bit confused.
"That is good. That way Gundrun can continue work harvesting crystals." Without hesitation the creature turns away from Torque and returns to chipping away at the walls.
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Xenon takes far more interest in the cats remains than the miner, sizing them up for wall mounts.
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The pech sighs, annoyed to be interrupted once again.
I dig them for the The Great Master, the maker of the spire! But the gold-faced man needs Gundrun’s help, and is friend to the Great Master in the Deep. Gundrun lives to serve the master, so Gundrun help!"
It clucks noisily after its answer, its patience tried by repeating questions.
"Great master - one who we served once, and again. Now go away and let Gundrun work". The creature grabs a nearby bag protectively. You can see something squirming inside the bag.
Being kept inside a bag it proves difficult to make out exactly what the pech is holding, but it appears to perhaps be some sort of chicken, from the general amount of noise and flapping.
Exploring the southwest corner of the dungeon yields several rooms - it is clear the dead wizard Klarkosh liked his creature comforts. One room holds a full bath, another holds trophies. The trophy room proves to be trapped - but it is easy enough to avoid the dangerous mounts, and one trophy mount holds a magical mace.
However, all is not rosy here. As the Pathfinders continue up the hall, they find gaunt, black haired man wasting away in set of cells. He wears the garbs of the Goldenfire order of wizards from Fort Inevitable. Searching their memory, they recall that two of that order were reported missing some weeks ago, well before the Pathfinder's explorations of the Spire first began.
The man looks up, surprised. His voice is weak but determined. "Who are you? Please, help me! I've been trapped in here for weeks."
Torque sees nothing but an exhausted, broken man.
Jharun crawls over to the bars and pulls himself up. He reaches out to grab at Torque, but stops halfway, seeming to lack the energy. The man's wrists are very thin. "Please, you've got to let me out. Klarkosh is mad! Tiawask escaped a week ago; did she send you? I had given up hope."
You recall no mention of the other missing wizard returning to fort inevitable.
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Nuria bites her lip for a moment. "Umm... I think he was that nasty man we dispatched earlier." You really don't have to worry about him any more, Master Wizard..."[/b]
"...Jharun, my name is Jharun."