Sverixalint ambled through the streets, head and neck swinging this way and that as he took in the sights. His parents had taken him into human towns a couple of times before--they were on good terms with the villages near their lair--but he'd never been in a bigger city like Kenabres. To his curious young mind, it was all exciting and new, the buildings and streets and the many, many people outside of his brief experience.
In spite of his excitement at seeing the city, however, his travel wasn't the meandering of a tourist. Rather he was following the flow of traffic towards Clydwell Plaza, for he was fairly certain that Terendelev--noble, great Terendelev--would be there, and he wanted to see the older dragon above all the sights of the city.
Sverixalint looked over at the toddler with some surprise. He'd always thought humanoid young were rather strange, so awkward and vulnerable, totally dependent on their parents for many years. Not like dragon hatchlings, who could, if needed, fend for themselves not long after hatching. It was... endearing, in a way, and in spite of himself Sverix smiled a bit. He made sure to keep his lips over his teeth as he did so, however, remembering his parents' lessons about talking with humans and their kin.
"Yes, I am a dragon, here for the festival," he said, trying his best to sound wise and adult. "Just like you are, right?"
Sverix vaguely recalls having heard of the grey-haired armored man. He was... the leader of Kenabres, right? Anxiously the young dragon looks around, silently cursing his small size, wondering if maybe Terendelev is here somewhere in human form.
In spite of the chaos, Sverixalint's heart thrills for just a moment as he sees Terendelev take to the air... but then more pressing matters draw his attention back to the earth. Four threats nearby, more his size...
Coming to a swift decision, Sverix growls a quick prayer for protection to Apsu, then charges at the cambion, teeth snapping. Hopefully he can kill it swiftly and then turn to the other demons...
Sverix snarls as the cambion's claw scratches his wing, but he does not relent, returning the demon's attacks with his own claws and teeth.
Unfortunately, the young dragon is inexperienced in combat, and it shows in the wild, inaccurate nature of his attacks.
Sverix roars in pain as the cambion's blade slices his neck. He turns his roar into a prayer to Apsu as he desperately slashes and bites at his demon foe.
The little dragon breathes a prayer of thanks that the cambion did not hit this time, as well as another for healing , then throws himself back at the demon. There is no retreat here, no mercy, only death.
Sverixalint groans as pain returns with his consciousness. Then memory returns also.
"Terendelev..." he whispers, the shock of her death just starting to sink in. "Even as she died, she thought of others... a lesson I shall always remember."
Then he noticed the enormous spider and froze. When it remained motionless, Sverix cautiously extricates himself from the debris on top of him, pulls his wand out of his carry-sack, and sets about healing his wounds.
That done, he puts it away and carefully looks over the cave, wondering if anyone else might be here... or if any giant spiders might be moving in the area.
Reverently, Sverixalint picks up the scale and puts it in his carry-sack. Then he trots over to the man who is waking up.
"Do not worry," Sverix says as he approaches, realizing that the man probably cannot see in the dark, "I am a friend. Now let me see if I can get this rock off of you."
The little dragon looks over it for a second, searching for the best place to get some leverage on it, then tries to move it.
As you touch the scale, you recieve a rush of emotion not your own - sadness, mixed with resolute determination. There's no doubt in your mind, part of Terendelev's power is contained in this scale, and you're sure you know to access it.
The rock is not very heavy - you don't get the right leverage the first time around, but a second push sends it rolling off of him.
"Wha - I can't see! Who're you?" His head twists from side to side, trying to keep track of you. His eyes are wide open, but clearly unseeing. He fumblingly gets to his feet in the darkness.
Cloudwalking: Cast Levitate by touching the scale to a creature or object. A pillar of roiling clouds rises below the levitating object or creature, growing and shrinking with the target's altitude. This pillar is 5 feet in diameter (regardless of the target's size) and provides concealment (20% miss chance) to any creature or object wholly contained within.
Disguise: Cast Alter Self, with a duration of 190 minutes. While the effect is active, you gain +4 to bluff checks made against evil creatures.
Resistance: Cast Resist Energy, but only against Cold or Lightning, by touching the scale to a creature.
Caster Level 19
"I am Sverixalint," the young dragon says. "Another survivor of the tragedy above. Who are you?"
"Hrwmh? Ah, but of course you cannot see me in this miserable darkness. I'm Horgus Gwerm. I don't suppose you have some sort of illuminative device at your disposal?" The plumb man straightens a little as he says his name. You can tell that his clothes are well-taylored to his body, and the slightly cooler bands around several of his fingers probably signify rings.
Meanwhile, you can see the elf beginning to move in the background. He gets up on hands and knees, groaning softly. "Ah... What a catastrope," he mutters, as he gropes through the rubble, producing a slender staff that's almost as long as his body.
"I fear I do not," Sverix says, "For I can see in the dark. Just a moment... there are others who may need help."
The little dragon trots over to the elf, looking over him for injuries. "It is terrible, yes. But we're still alive. Are you badly injured? I have some healing magic."
"See... Then you're able to get us out of here!" he scrambles along as you make your way over to the elf.
"It seems you haven't heard of me, but I'm a wealthy entrepeneur. I would hire you to lead me out of here - a thousand gold pieces, surely that is a tempting offer for one such as you."
The elf's eyes are pretty much ruined - it looks like they were initially savaged with a massive blade, then the wounds haphazardly cauterised; the hair that falls in his face is matted with blood, some of the ends burnt. That is his only injury, although it is severe enough for all that.
"I took an arrand lash of the Storm King's whip. It's a head wound, and I fear that my eyes may never work again, but I am functional - you should conserve your resources, see if others are more severely injured before you decide where to spend it. How many of us are here?" he pauses, and adds. "I am Aravashnial."
"You." Horgus remarks, with some distaste.
"Please, we are no doubt still in serious danger!" Sverix pleads as he hears the distaste in Horgus's voice. "I will do my best to get all of us out of here, but I cannot promise anything. I'm hardly as old and powerful as my parents, much less Terendelev..."
He trails off a moment, thinking of the scale in his carry-sack, then shakes his head slightly. "Aravashnial, I am Sverixalint. I have a healing wand--it will not be much trouble to heal the wound, though it won't help your eyes."
Sverix pulls his wand out again and waves it over the elf's face, murmuring the activation word.
That done, he turns again. "There is one more person I see here... let me check on him. There is strength in numbers, and we will probably need all the strength we can get."
The wounds remain badly burnt and bloody, but there is less ichor seeping from them.
The last person is a woman, wearing leathers and with a bow at her side. Her left leg is slightly bent in the middle of her shin - it's obviously broken.
Sverix again uses his wand, this time on the woman's wounds.
"Hrm." Horgus huffs. He seems content to let it go for now though, and fumblingly sits down against a large rock.
"Well, it is hardly appropriate to compare oneself to... Ah. You're a dragon?"
The woman comes awake when you heal her. "F%&!."
She tries to sit up, then becomes aware of her leg and resigns herself to propping her up against the rubble at an angle. She mutters a few words, and a blue light appears in her hand, lighting up the cave. Apparently, the way out is past the dead spider. Two tunnels lead from the chamber, in the same general direction.
You're acutely aware that, aside from squinting the eyes against the light, all three humanoids are very surprised to see you.
"Oh! Yes, I'm sorry, I did't even think to tell you. I am, as you can now see, a bronze dragon, though... not a very big or old one..." Sverix hangs his head just slightly before shaking the thought off.
"Thank you for the light," he says to the woman while putting his wand away again, "I am Sverixalint. Might I ask your name?"
"Anevia Tirabade. Pleasure." Her face contorts in pain as she tries to move the leg.
"It seems we've acquired the full set," Horgus remarks. He evidently doesn't think much of Tirabade.
She ignores his barb. "I only have ten minutes of it. The light, I mean. It'd be a good idea to splint the leg while you can see, right? Or maybe... Do you have more healing?"
"I could use my wand again," Sverix suggests, and proceeds to do so.
Looking at the still-broken leg, Sverixalint says, "I'll look for something to make a splint with."
He starts looking around the rubble for any kind of wood or anything for making a splint with.
The wound on the leg closes entirely, and the woman seems to relax. Now that there's light, you notice that she has close-cropped dark brown hair. Still, the leg is more concerning than her looks; You don't know much about human anatomy, but you can tell that while she's mended, the break isn't healed right. The big muscle on the back isn't quite shaped like the other one, and the foot points a little in the wrong direction.
Still, she gets up, and tentatively puts her weight on it. "You don't have to. I can walk - or shuffle at least. Thanks, Sveri. Can I call you Sveri?" She rambles a little.
Aravashnial nods. "As we're all accounted for, it seems prudent to set in motion. Anevia, I shall need you to be my eyes, while the light remains. Sverixalint, as you are the most hale of those here, you will take point - any battle that might be joined will hinge primarily on you, and we shall need you to guide us when ms. Tirabade's light fades."
"I prefer Sverix," Sverixalint says. "So Sverix, Aravashnial, Horgus, and Anevia," he nods at himself and the humanoids in turn, fixing their names in his mind.
"Yes, we should move. I do think it's good if I go first. I'll protect the rest of you," Sverix states, proudly, as he turns towards the tunnels leading out. "Let's go... right first," he says, ambling towards the tunnel while glancing back every now and again to make certain the others are following him.
"We should look for something we could burn for a torch for you while we go," Sverix added as he led the group.
Anevia helps Aravashnial to his feet, and puts his hand on her shoulder before following you. You note she's still carrying her shortbow, although there's precious few arrows in the quiver at her hip.
As you grow closer, you notice a low, chewing sound coming from the spider. Part of the hairy chitin that makes up its abdomen is bulging gently.
"Wait!" Sverix says. "There's something... eating the spider on the inside. Let's stay far away from it." He moves to give the spider a wide berth.
"How repulsive," Horgus says, looking visibly shaken.
You keep to the southern wall, circling around the spider and whatever scavengers inhabit it, leaving the muffled chewing sound behind. The floor is less obstructed with debris here, and you head down the righthand tunnel. It's no more than some twenty feet deep, before it opens up into a chamber, much smaller than the cavernous space you left.
The stone ground of this cave is covered with rocks and rubble as well, and some sixteen feet off of the ground, a stone ledge juts out at a right angle from the southern wall. One leather strap of a backpack hangs off of the edge of said ledge.
Far above, a narrow fissure rises up through the rock, receding into darkness.
"Oh! I wonder if there's torches in that backback. But... my wings aren't strong enough to fly yet, and I don't think any of us are good at climbing right now..." Sverixalint trails off in thought.
"Oh! I know!" He suddenly exclaims. He shifts his position slightly, takes careful aim... and breathes a bolt of lightning at the strap that's holding the backback on the rocky outcrop.
It takes a bit of sustained exhaling to set the strap on fire, but eventually you succeed, and the backpakc falls to the ground with a crunch of breaking glass.
The backpack sits on the rubble before you, the strap still on fire.
"And now..." Sverix mutters, then growls a brief prayer to Apsu. A small quantity of water appears in midair and splashes down on top of the flames, putting them out.
"Now we can see what's in there!" Sverix says, proudly, moving forwards to take a look in the pack.
The backpack itself is of high quality, except for the burned through strap, of course.
Inside it is a mess of slop, some of which has seeped into the material of the bag itself, and the rest of which mixes with shards of broken glass and the remaining intact objects.
There's 12 arrows, a metal lamp, somewhat bent out of shape, a set of flint and tinder (along with some potion-soaked kindling), a bag of caltrops, ten days worth of trail rations in a tin container, a metal container of oil(2 pints), and a single surviving potion in a glass vial with a cork stopper.
"Is there a rapier? I'll need one if I'm to fight," Horgus declares, before snatching up the oil and the lamp. Anevia grabs the arrows and adds them to her quiver, smiling but silent.
"What have you found?" Aravashnial asks, clearly frustrated with his lack of vision.
Horgus is fiddling with the lamp, and manages to turn it on, just as Anivia's light fades.
"We found a lamp! Sverix proudly proclaims. "And some oil, some flint, tinder, and kindling, some caltrops, some food, some arrows, and a potion. That will help! There's no rapier, though. Now... I guess we should continue on?"
The way onwards sits on the northeastern end of the cave. The tunnel opens into this chamber some two feet off the ground, making the transition awkward, but navigable.
The tunnel is cramped and slopes downwards. Soon - you haven't even been walking for a full minute - it opens up into a fork, a tunnel leading due east, while another leads west-northwest.
Sverix looks back and forth between the two passageways for a moment, then turns to the west-northwest one.
"Let's go this way first," he says as he does so.
"We're going in circles," someone complains.
The tunnel is short, and emerges into a small chamber. It's littered with the remnants of a campsite, and plays host to two giant roaches, which click their mandibles at you as they skitter towards you and attack. Beyond them, an opening on the back wall leads west.
The air is fouler here than in the rest of the complex.
"Roaches!" Anevia calls, and has her shortbow drawn in an instant. She holds her fire, for whatever reason, and puts herself between Aravashnial and the threat.
The roaches are quick to swarm you, skittering into the light of the lamp.
,
,
Sverixalint growls as the roaches draw blood, then lashes out in return, focusing his attacks on one of the two roaches.
Chitin cracks and splits under your claws, and you dig deep grooves through the soft material and fleshy tubes inside. Its legs spasm and twitch, but it eventually lies still.
Horgus fumbles with the lamp, and recoils as much as he is able without actually running into Aravashnial, who has planted his staff on the rocky floor, and is leaning heavily against it in Anevia's absence.
"Are you handling it?" It's clear, just from his voice, that he's extremely frustrated with not being able to see and participate.
Anevia produces a short slender blade from somewhere and, balancing precariously on her injured leg, shanks the remaining cockroach, aiming for a crack in the shell on its back.
,
The blade sinks into it, and the roach lunges for you with its mandibles.
,
"Ow!" Sverix shouts, surprised, then retaliates.
"There!" He declares, proudly. "All done!"
Anevia pulls her blade free, and sets about cleaning it, glaring at Horgus when he walks around, scattering the light of the lamp.
Horgus kicks over a half-burned log left behind in the cold fireplace.
Sverix nods at Anevia in thanks for her help in combat, then pulls out his wand to heal his wounds.
He feels much better after just one wave of his wand, and puts it away.
"I wonder who else is down here?" Sverixalint says, looking around at the campsite. "Or... was down here. Maybe they left something useful behind, though?"
The young dragon starts searching around, looking for anything that might be useful.
"The natural tunnels and chambers where here long before Kenabres. Above, we will find sewers, dungeons and cellar-complexes of the city above. That will be our way out. According to rumor -" Aravashnial stops here. It's hard to tell his expression without being able to see his eyes, you think he's frowning.
Still, he starts up again. "Supposedly, deformed descendants of the first crusaders fled underground, many years ago, and their descendants in turn live down here still."
It takes some time to search the room, but you turn up a turn bedroll, three candle stubs (each can burn for 30 minutes), a bent fishhook, and ten feet of rope that has been badly frayed.
Further, there's a copper brooch tossed aside in the corner, depicting a bat sitting on a mushroom. The bat has amethysts for eyes.