The morning is misty and gray. The entire town of Belhaim seems muted and dour. Nothing seems out of place in Hunclay's when the reconstituted team arrives at the manor. By the time they enter the main hall a steady drizzle begins.
Renliat's mood does not seemed soured by the weather; indeed he seems to appreciate not having to cover his eyes or squint.
Renliat looks up, craning his neck to try to take in as much of the building as he can. "Hmm...I expected it to be larger." He smiles at some sort of private joke. As he looks around a small mouse-like creature appears from under his shirt collar, looking around quickly before nipping Renliat on the ear. "Ah! Oh yes, right." He reaches into his pack and takes out a light blue wand. "Hewa litrix." He touches himself on the chest, and a translucent image of armor faintly appears around him for a moment before fading away. "Anybody else? It will protect you as good as a chain shirt for while."
"I probably don't have to tell you, but be careful of what you touch. Almost everything we've encountered has been trapped, in one way or another. Watch where you step and and think twice before you touch anything."
Pavo headed to the door on the western wall and kneeled down to inspect it.
Belching numerous times on the way to manor.
"Aah! that tells me the ale wasn't quite that high quality. Or that I might have had a bit much. Stepping up behind Pavo with the Giant Sticker at the ready
Nodding, Spitter automatically takes the offer of the Mage Armor spell.
"I have also considered learning a spell that improves my scales leaf-eater, but I never considered it would be easier to use with a wand."
Renliat repeats the incantation, tapping Spitter on the top of his head with the wand. "It is useful for spells that you use consistently, although it can get expensive. So, I have never been here before. Where have you been, and where are we heading next?"
"Down was bad. Up then? The third floor awaits!"
Pavo finds no signs of any traps on the western door, or at least, it certainly does not have the screaming locks that gave him a splitting headache before. There is no visible lock.
"It may be good to check the areas you already were at some point. I may pick up on arcane secrets that were missed." He lets the matter drop for the moment, following the others. He raises one hand, drawing an intricate symbol in the air. "Ickrak'ey arcaniss." His eyes crackle with a red and yellow energy as he gazes about the room.
"We'll clear each floor again as we go. We don't know what magics are at work here or what maybe changed in our absence. Best not to assume anything here is safe. Prepare yourselves" Pavo said as he prepared to open the door.
Pavo cautiously opens the door to reveal a short, narrow hallway. Two more doors greet him. One on the north wall, the other on the south. Neither door features a lock.
Renliat does a quick scan for magic, and uses his mundane vision to search for traps.
"I've always been partial to the rule of left." He says, indicating the door to the south.
Despite Pavo's dire warnings, Renliat sees no sign of traps so far. Both doors resemble the previous one. No obvious traps or locks.
Looking about at the fine furnishings Wilfried shakes his head.
"Yep the rest of the house is much nicer than the basement room I saw too much of."
"Well then master Wilfried, perhaps a tour is in order."
Nodding in agreement with Renliat, Pavo approached the southern door and set about inspecting it before trying to throw it open.
Spitter follows along, letting his bigger companions take the lead.
Leng stays close to Pavo. "Personally if these doors don't have traps I'm not going to complain," he says.
Neither mundane nor magical senses indicates any danger hiding on either door.
Positioning himself buy the left door Wilfried says. "Left it is" He nods to Pavo and readies his weapon
Leng loosens the length of his chain and starts the slow circling with it once more.
Spitter sighs and opens the door.
"Pink-skins! Always preparing."
Spitter opens the door revealing a well-furnished dining room with a long, ornately carved oak table and chairs. The walls are decorated with paintings of desert landscapes.
Spitter walks in and starts looking for valuables and traps, his small quarterstaff clicking on the floor.
The furniture and art work are worth a decent amount. At least a thousand gold, if not more. Otherwise, this room is rather mundane.
"Wow. Never considered him much of a decorator. A museum or collector would pay quite a bit for all of this." Renliat muses to nobody in particular as he scans the room for magic.
Was hoping it would be the kitchen. We can't take things but I'll bet it didn't cover eating things. The Dwarf then begins to look about for anything edible.
"Maybe he had someone else do the decor."
"He's a pink-skin wizard. Who knows how or why he did anything? Best to remember that."
"All I know is, if I'm ever exploring some huge dungeon and down on the thirteenth level there's some dude on a lounger with a succubus attendant, just remember that he probably had to have movers bring all his furniture down thirteen levels past all the monsters along the way and that dude - or lady or whatever - is not to be messed with."
"Huh. I hadn't thought about it like that. That would suck" Pavo said with a shrug. He made his way towards the other door and took a knee, giving the door his customary inspection.
The door looks identical to the dining room door to Pavo's eyes. No auras, no locks, just a closed door.
"Furniture can be lethal. Once ran across a mimic disguised as a couch. Didn't you say the Old Wiz liked to trap objects as well as doors? Just how big was that bear?"
"Yes, hopefully I can pick out any such traps before we walk into them..." Renliat mumbles as his eyes continue to crackle red and yellow.
Pavo glanced back at the others, his eyes darting from one to the next. Finally, he nodded and threw the door open, his shield raised before him.
Pavo throws open the door to a well-appointed parlor room. An expertly carved mahogany stand holds a globe of Golarion dominates one corner.
The artwork is a little different in this room, and more prolific. Decorative sextants and astrolabes share wall space with paintings of landscapes and stars.
Unlike the previous landscapes, these depict strange and alien places with exotic flora and two suns. A city is seen from a distance in one. It is composed of impossible geometric shapes in the architecture of the buildings, all of which are a shade of yellow from dull to vibrant. These paintings are signed by Hunclay himself.
Spitter looks around but shakes his head in the end.
"Expensive but useless. I hate wizards."
"Agreed my friend."
Pavo turned and looked at Renliat. "Uh...no offense friend."
"Spread out. Search the room. Then we move."
"Oh no, I agree. Pretentious group, pricks really."
Smiling, Spitter elbows Pavo and whispers to him as they look around.
"I can't tell if the leaf-eater is serious or not. I think I like HIM...despite him being a wizard."
Aye, little dragon I like him as well."Walking past Renliat he lightly elbows the Elf. "At least you're not a Gnome. Am I right?" He continues around the room. These are for looking at the stars. And it seems the old Wiz was a painter, though I prefer battle scenes." The Dwarf muses.
The crew carefully picks through the room, but turns up nothing else of interest.
"Well, let's finish out the upper floors before heading down. Ironically it seems going down usually raises the stakes."
"I feel like there's a joke in there somewhere but I can't quite reach it," says Leng wryly. "The attic it is."
Everyone begins climbing the spiral staircase to an observatory with a glass dome providing a clear view of the sky for the rather expensive telescope on a platform of wood, metal, and gears. Pedals and cranks allow someone sitting in the angled chair to move the telescope's position without getting up. Star charts and astronomy books lay scattered about a work table along with some of Hunclay's notes.
Trying poorly to hide is a misshapen bald creature, rather like a small version of Hunclay that was taken out of the oven before being fully baked. It holds a stick in it's shriveled hand with a small blue crystal on it's end.
"Uhmm, are we under attack?" He says with a confused look, the ambush so poorly executed it's more confusing than anything.