"Did you bring the ransom?" Azmur sits on a rock in the sunlight, his back to the party as they pass the archway leading to the courtyard the druid occupies. "Or do you mean to try and kill him? He took Rima. Back to his lair." The druid turns around with tears streaming down his face. "I think he knows I talked to you. If you don't have the loot, just go back and get it. He'll kill her."
Sneering at the miserable pink-skin in front of him, Spitter steps forward slamming his small staff into the ground to emphasis his point. the words that come forth seem to be fae-like or even elven-like words that sound more like wind or babbling brook more often that not. His words and actions are punctuated by his angry demeanor and wings that flap open suddenly to make him look bigger.
Talk! You know more. You are just letting your fear rule you! It is Gozreh you should fear! The mighty 'Voice-in-Thunder'! He cares not for the whims of dragons and men. He cares that the world turns and that seasons run their course. That salmon run up their streams and that new life...just like your own spawn...are given the chance to be born and live to overtake the dead and forgotten which renews the world. What say you? Will you listen to reason? Or will you side with the inevitable loss of your wife and follow the dragon into whatever hell he pulls down on top of you!
"Fine, fine! I'll help you, but if it costs my wife and unborn child their lives, a dragon's wrath will be nothing compared to mine!" He stands and moves toward a door to the south and takes you into a room containing narrow pillars painted blue and gold which support the ceiling in this shrine. At its west end is a large statue in a mother-of-pearl-lined niche. The figure sits in the lotus position, hands clasped and eyes closed in prayer.
"I don't know the dragon's true name," he says once everyone is inside, "but the rumor is that he went berserk when one of his lieutenants used it. He melted Hapscot into a greasy puddle with his acid breath. Aeteperax clearly doesn't like hearing it. I don't know it, but the dragon has other lieutenants here. They may know more.
"He has a lair nearby, just up that hill over yonder. He uses the monastery as a base for his minions and to conduct foul research on unspeakable horrors, just as the monks here once did. They created some kind of portal to...I don't know where. Someplace unnatural beyond the stars. That's why he wanted Hunclay's books. The old coot was always staring at the stars himself. He draws power from the portal and if he gets his hands on Hunclay's research, he may prove to be unkillable. Or worse! What if he brings something ancient into this world?"
Renliat has no idea what Spitter was yelling at them, but obviously it worked. He was glad to not have made enemies of them.
Acid breath, a black dragon for sure.
Renliat pales when he hears about the overlap with Hunclay's books. Oh no. I only skimmed those... He clenches his teeth, just imagining how his father would berate him at this moment; surely he would know just from hearing this what is being planned. "Then it sounds like the sooner we strike, the better, before any more power is gathered." He says quietly.
"I agree. We should strike now. Deprive this dragon of his allies and support. All of his showmanship with the illusion makes you wonder. He may not be as formidable as he seems."
Looking at the obviously upset human. "Sir Druid, Know that I intend to fight this monster with all I have. Our Lord in Iron willing it will be enough."
Stepping over to Renliat. "So wizard does any of this otherworldly menace stuff make any sense to you?"
"Well...it's vague. Hunclay had a lot of research material that covered a broad array of topics. I suppose my best theory, if still pretty raw and including a lot of guesswork, is that a mage is pretending to be a dragon in order to terrorize the locals and gather funds required to summon an extremely powerful outsider, likely some kind of devil or demon. But, there's a lot of assumptions."
Leng steps quietly into the chamber and pauses before the kneeling figure of Irori. He moves closer and extends one hand, gently placing it on the statue's head. Then he removes his hat and rubs his own bald head with a sheepish grin.
"This is a holy place," he says. "Where one meditates to become more... oneself."
Spitter scratches his head and can't help sounding a bit puzzled.
"You want to be more 'pink' pink-skin? I'm not sure that is how meditation works...but you go ahead and try if it makes you feel better."
"I don't know much about that sort of magic," Kell says, but I've seen his...'Dark Window' and I believe it is fragile enough for a powerful enough dispel or arcane force. It's in a concealed room past the lectern library.
"He has been building followers, but there are three who are his lieutenants. A hulking grioth, a crazy alchemist, and an even crazier naga. Thaena, the naga, has been with him the longest."
Spitter spits to the side and nods his small head.
"Naga? A Serpent-like creature? I may be able to reason with her. Crazy pink-skins are just crazy."
He then points to the human talking to them.
"WIndow? Window into where? A dimensional portal? What kind of powers does it grant him? What's a 'grioth' for that matter? Is that some sort of dragon spawn I've not heard of? You give a lot of information we have no understanding of. What of his personal defenses? Traps? Pets? Also, If your wife is carrying her egg, then can she carry it on her own? Or is it too big and she will need help?"
Renliat looks down in concentration. "I know of dispelling magic, in the abjuration discipline. It's not something I've personally tried to master...but I think I could do so, given the correct reading materials."
"Dispel? Gozreh has not seen fit to grant me such magical might yet."
"Dispelling. Our Lord in Iron grants these to favored servants. I alas am not that favored at the moment. But the more of this 'Dragons' allies and minions I fight. The more in favor I will be."
"Sir Druid. What of the monks? Faithful of Irori would never suffer such as this."
Renliat doesn't recall much about nagas other than that they're serpentine creatures with extensive magical power.
The grioths he knows right away as the creatures which attacked the town the night of the auction. Immune to cold, but sensitive to light, grioths can channel psychic powers through their voidglass weapons, or just their claws. In addition, their bite contains a mild venom.
Kell looks curiously at the kobold, and in the end decides he is not quite able to answer the confusing questions about his wife's pregnancy. He shakes his head and looks to the dwarf. "The monks built the Dark Window," Kell takes a deep breath and sighs through his nose. "I think they lost their faith centuries ago. These ruins tell a tale, even if I don't understand the whole story."
"Murals and paintings..." Renliat murmurs quietly to himself. He shakes his head. "I will need access to the appropriate reading material in order to dispel something. Although I'm not sure if the town will have it available, it may be a special order that will take some time. Perhaps the ruins themselves will contain the information, as a safety measure." He advises. "We could move forward now and hope we get lucky, perhaps at least clearing the area out of hostiles, or we can retreat until I can learn this spell. I am fine either way."
Spitter shrugs.
"Let's 'talk' to these servants first. At worst we will reduce the Dragon's allies and gain some more valuable items to add to our personal treasure hordes...and one of THEM may have the info that you seek leaf-eater."
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Renliat makes a skeptical noise. "My gut still tells me there is only the illusion of a dragon." He stops, frowning. "Did you just call me leaf-eater? I feel like that's...really lazy racism." He stares at Spitter for a moment, then chuckles. "Come on blue-scales, let's keep going today. We've hardly even used any resources."
Hissing nastily, Spitter turns away and strides toward the nearest entrance that leads further into the monastery, his small staff clicking louder than normal for such a stealthy kobold.
"Lazy? You just now...? I've been calling you all pink-skins since I've met all of you! I assure you...'leaf-eater' is a step UP!"
With another hiss and a flicker of a forked tongue he then spits upon a nearby statue.
"Looks better now. Besides! You are not thinking things through 'leaf-eater.' The local kobold tribe would not have been fooled long of a mere illusion! Eventually they would have suspected something. They did not. They worshiped him as many of my kind do: As a god. That takes draconic power...presence. Something you will not understand until you stand in front of a full-blooded dragon! A dragon this Aeteperax is...what kind? The pink-skin claimed he 'melted' someone? Most likely he's a blue, black, or green dragon of some kind. He's just 'calling' himself Aeteperax to conceal his true size or actual power for his own reasons. 'Reasons' we must uncover if we are to defeat him soundly."
He finishes his little speech in front of the entrance to the monastery, where he stand looking back at the others.
"Pink-skin is generic to the majority of civilized land-dwelling races, it's like being called a two leg. But leaf-eater is decisively a comment about elven diets." Renliat watches, somewhat amused, as the topic invigorates Spitter. "Hmm, I did not consider a lesser dragon using the illusion of Aeteperax, that could certainly make sense. But I would also not underestimate the charisma of powerful mages. Although my discipline is learned, there are many whose power is inherent. Sorcerers can make potent binders and tricksters."
"If you two are done discussing philosophy." Eyeing Spitter and Renliat. "It's time to put steel to some skulls."Holding up his weapon.
"Pavo, I believe you're our 'door' man." Nodding in that direction.
"Oh Little Dragon, being called 'Stone-eater'. Is quite the complement."
Nodding at the compliment, Spitter smiles and continues to wait on the 'big' people.
With his customary grin, Pavo approached the door and quickly gave it the once over.
Not suspecting traps on the door, he tried to open it as he glanced over his shoulder and gave the others a nod.
Pavo finds no sign of traps on the door and opens it up to find an L-shaped hallway. To the south is an open door that leads to another room entirely. To the east is a door and a T-intersection.
Turning south, Pavo heads towards the big room. He stops just shy of the entrance and takes a peek in.
Eight Pillars painted with faded quotations and prayers from Irori's teachings support the ceiling of this large chamber. A statue of a man with a long braid stands to the south. A set of stone spiral stairs leads upward.
Renliat finds the scroll on the ground and picks it up, casting read magic. After a moment he looks inquisitive, then he goes even paler than normal. "Uhh, these...uhhh...statues...statues bad." He stammers.
Following the others into the large room.
"Bad? Oh I don't know it looks pretty well made...Oh 'That' kind of bad. Stand ready."
He readies himself for action.
Confused by the elf's sudden stutter, Spitter reaches for a small pouch on his waist.
"Are you afflicted my friend? I have some herbs and dried cave lizard tongue that might help with that..."
Renliat places one hand on his spell component pouch, stepping away from the statues. "These might...these might be enchanted to come to life and attack." He murmurs. He scans them for any magic.
Scowling fiercely as if he ate something wrong, Spitter spits.
"Attack? Statues? You pink-skins and your unreasonable fear of old ruins. These servants of the 'dragon' LIVE here. I doubt they would have put up with defensive constructs wandering around uncontrolled. If they moved at all, they would have been smashed by now or made silent. No doubt there may be places with such defenses in other less-traveled areas of the ruins...but here? If nothing else, I think the pink-skin Druid who is scared of his own shadow would have mentioned it too if he wanted us to succeed."
"Uhh, yeah, sorry. I found this scroll that if used with similar magic would allow for these to be used as guardians. Continue on." He mumbles.
Nodding, Spitter merely waves toward the direction they had been moving.
"That makes much more sense leaf-eater. Let us keep moiving then. A temporary spell in case help is needed suddenly! A good find. Can you use it?"
"Although it does fall under the branch of necromancy which I've never cared much for studying, I believe I could activate the scroll should we need it."
"There doesn't seem to be anything else of interest here. Come on, back the way we came. There was another door I want to check out" Pavo said as he headed back the way they had come.
He took a knee in front of the door and gave it his customary once over.
Moving next to the door Wilfried readies for action.
"Maybe there will be something worth fighting in this room"
Ignoring the stairs for now, Pavo leads the group toward the east door. He peers around the northward passage of the t-junction to see it ends in a door.
Finding no traps protecting the door, Pavo opens it up to reveal another t-junction that ends in a door to the east and a hallway south with a door and two open archways. Some rubble covers the floor near the open arches.
Spitter points north.
"The main building seems to be that way pink-skins. Should we explore that first?"
"Good with me. One of these doors has to have something we can fight behind it. The sooner we start smashing this Dragon's allies the better."
Making chopping motions with weapon.
Renliat absentmindedly nods; he seems good with whatever decision is made. The main building first sounds just fine.
"North it is then" Pavo said as he headed down the hall. His patience wearing out, he didn't bother to check the door and just tried to open it.
A blue mosiac dominates the floor of this chamber. The ceiling rises to several domes twenty-five feet above. A large marble statue of a robed man with hair braided in a loop and worn like a necklace looks down on the chamber serenely from the east.
"Mmm. Another meditation aid."
Leng scratches his chin absently.
"AH! You pink-skins aren't a total loss it seems! Look there. Under the carpet? A door!"
He then moves ahead and pulls it aside to reveal the hidden exit.
"Why would pink-skin monks need a hidden trap door?"
He then looks up at the statue.
"In front of a god's statue?"