”Well, lets have a look at you then.” He says, finally rising from his seat. As he stretches to his full height you realize for the first time that he is, in fact, not Human. A gnarled Dwarf stands before you and though indeed hairy, apparently the majority of it is actually fur from the pelts he wears. He regards the group evenly under hooded brow, brown gaze turning to each of you in turn. He raises an eyebrow at the elven archers antics. And when the gnome speaks he rolls his eyes, but it's to the half-Elven warrior that he gives his attention.
"I accept your apology, and I doubt you'll interrupt me for long." His eyes narrow a bit. "You're asking about a child? One who has been taken? Why?"
Someone's home. That was certainly unexpected. A little home in a cave, complete with wooden floors and a warm hearth and a tripod-mounted crossbow that was slathered in some thick gelatinous substance. It was downright surreal.
Tainesh is so embarrassed to have stumbled into someone's home that she quietly lets the others handle the introductions while she decocks her crossbow.
It all seems to go well until Sparks breaks from the group to stoke the hearth. It's embarrassing and a clear indication that the Elf may have some deep-rooted terror of fire, which the wizard makes a mental note to follow up upon, but... Well, Tainesh hadn't wasted too much time on etiquette manuals, but she doubted that any of the authors had devoted any thought to 'The propriety of tending to another person's fire'. Best to stay silent, stay polite, and hope that the Dwarf wouldn't press the issue.
The wanderer leans out of the way of Sparks as she descends, keeping a firm grip on the ladder.
Noticing the dwarf's distaste, Umros says nothing. No sense in provoking someone who seemed annoyed by the cheerful gnome. Presently, he feels a moment of compassion for the oblivious elf girl. The feeling reminded him of the days of his youth, freedom-fighting for the peoples of Virnuux Mih. If there was one thing he hated, it was Fear and those who used it to get their way (closely seconded by lizards). Umros hoped that he might someday help the archer confront whatever trouble reigned in her heart.
When the hermit plainly addresses the seasoned warrior from behind his terrible crossbow contraption, Umros likewise looks up at Cath to see that he might say.
“Well, we don’t know why the lad was taken. That’s the reason we’re out looking for him. Some of the kids said something about a ’shining lady.’ Ring any bells?”
At the fighters words the Dwarf before you squints his eyes. Idly one of his hands comes to his beard, tugging at the bristles as the firelight plays across his brow. The silence extends almost a minute and you begin to wonder if he's somehow lost his train of thought.
Presently he breaths deeply and casually rests his hand on the crossbow arrayed before the group. "I may have." His eyes range across each one of the curious group. "But my meaning was, why did you want to know?"
His stance isn't overtly aggressive, more inquiring.
"To return him to his mother. She is devastated at his going missing," Sparks snaps, clearly unhappy with the Dwarf's unhelpful, hedging temperament.
The diminutive Whippoorwill's silver eyes watch the dwarf's face and gestures, searching his guarded behavior for a tell. Were I in his boots, and this Shining Lady was a cave-neighbor, I'd weigh my options carefully too...
Seeing the tinkering hand rest on the elaborate crossbow makes Umros bristle. But the wanderer knows that sometimes, silence can coax out truths. He adds nothing to Sparks' terse response.
Though why those emotions seem present, Umros knows not.
The quiet dwarf's eyes flash dangerously at the archer's outburst.
The silence of the room rises to deafening levels as the fireplace reflects the fire smoldering in the recluses eyes. Presently the hand griping the deadly crossbow relaxes. Though the look of curiosity on the stout dwarven face has been replaced by something more... curt, distrusting. "Hold your tongue, child, I did not invite you here." He looks away from the girl and examines the lot of you as a whole, the distaste openly apparent now.
"The woman is known to me, I have seen her on occasion." He tilts his head as if recalling to mind a memory. "I do not know who she is, nor where she is from. Only that her presence I've marked as an ill omen." His demeanor steadily returns to it's mostly neutral state. "I have not seen any children. At least not for a fortnight."
The dwarf pauses, as if, having said his piece, he feels it now polite to wait for a response.
Sparks gives the dwarf a bewildered look, he had only just minutes before demanded she come down into his home after all, but not wishing to see his crossbow be triggered she heeds his warning to stay quiet. It is only when he mentions how long it had been since he had seen any children that she dares speak... but not to him.
"Bythefnos yn bedwar diwrnod ar ddeg onid yw?" she whispers to Umros.
"Thank you," Tainesh says. "It's nice to know that we aren't chasing the wild tales of little children."
"We plan to search the rest of this cave for any clues of the child's whereabouts. Are we in danger of intruding upon another neck of your property?"
Fortnight. It was a festivus held by the roadfolk, mostly gnomes, once every two weeks. The celebration involved combining every tent and canvas of the caravan into one massive, imposing structure of cloth, rope, and poles. Maybe even a wagon, if someone among them was rich. After the sun was set, the music and dancing began.
But then the Desnan worshiper remembers that settled people use it to measure the passage of two weeks, and not a night of building forts. "Probably," he whispers back to Clearpath.
Tainesh's polite question sparks other questions in the wanderer's mind, but he decides to wait for an answer from the dwarf. His impatient mind turns its curiosity to the trappings of the small abode and its occupant. His big nose sniffs quietly and he glances about, looking for a clue that might hint to the last time this hairy tinkerer ventured outside the cave.
The dwarf looks up at Tainesh under hairy brows. "No, this is mine," he waves a hand indicating the small room. "I lay claim to nothing else." A look of contemplation crosses his face as he considers something. "Though if you lot intend to travel deeper, you'll want to keep an eye out. The bears who live up near the entrance aren't the most dangerous things down here."
The tinkerer sticks a thumb in his belt loop. "That one's for free."
"Sir, we camped at the cave entrance from evening till morning but saw no bears and found none in the passages leading to your home here," Sparks states truthfully. That one of the bears' hides currently resides in her pack she does not mention in hopes of getting an unguarded reaction from the dwarf.
“I suspect he knows where we camped last night. Unless blackberries have learned to grow underground?” He smiles playfully, raising a knowing look to the dwarf, “Maybe one of us was looking at their shoes during their watch…”
“What I draws my curiosity, Master Dwarf, is why the Shining Lady bodes ill to you? Does she look or smell a certain way? When did you first see her? When did you last see her?”
The dwarf snorts at Sparks words. "Aye, and I'm sure a fine hunter such as yourself wouldn't have seen any of the bear-sign littering the above passages." Mid eye-roll he turns at the gnome speaking up. His eyes narrow when Umros mentions the fruit on the table behind him. Though a gruff chuckle escapes when the wander talks of the night watch.
But any warming of his mood is immediately doused at the next questions asked. "What bodes ill about a bump in the night!" The dwarf snaps, with a dark look hiding behind his hooded gaze. The hand resting on his crossbow closes, knuckles turning white with the strain.
"I think it's time you continue on your way..."
"With hospitality as unkind as yours who would want to stay?" Sparks asks fouly. Without waiting for a response she gives one last glance to the fire then begins to ascend the ladder at the rear of the room.
Breathing exercises are a regular part of a mage's curriculum, for they promote calmness and clarity of thought. Also, when that mage inevitably forgets a key ward on a summoning circle, she has only one breath with which to shout a protective incantation or make profuse apologies for summoning a being from the Outer Planes in the middle of his teatime.
"ThankyoufortheinformationbythewaythatisabeautifulcrossbowandIwishIcouldget acloserlookbutwemustleavenowsorryforourintrusionhaveaniceday!" Tainesh (somehow) says as she steps between Sparks and the crossbow and gently shoves the hunter toward the exit.
The wince on Umros' face breaks into a wide smile at Tainesh's hurried words. He too takes a step toward the ladder.
The dwarf's mention of more dangerous things below tugs at Umros' sense of adventure, though in his experience, some adventures are met with bad luck. Legs break. Clothing tears or soils. Food runs out, potions run out, or, (heavens forbid) wine bottles dry. Taking in the spartan contents of the small room again, it occurs to the gnome that this hermit's decisions are likely less whimsical as they are practical.
The wanderer sees an opportunity. He takes a serious, no-nonsense tone. "Understood. We'll be going. But consider this, Master Dwarf: you and I are alike in one way. Waste not, want not. If a thing can be salvaged, or repurposed to a practical use, it should be done. If not, then it is a waste of space."
The gnome could feel his words getting away from him, so he takes a breath and starts again. "We are delving into a place a long ways from town. A very big, sprawling place. In my experience, the further one wanders from settlements, the stranger things one finds. Things that could be put to use by you, or that you could turn for a profit, in exchange for any basic supplies that we might run low on. Think of it: orc tusks, gemstones, rare plants, samples of living ooze... There could be a lot, the deeper we go. There could be a little."
"What I am saying is," Umros concludes as he motions everyone else toward the ladder, "you stand to benefit from an agreement of future trade with us. What say you?"
Once the others are safely up the ladder, Cath sheathes his small blade before ascending as well. As he starts upward, he quips with a wink, “Both of us know that one of those bolts ain’t enough for whatever you had planned. And the gnome has a good point. Sorry for intruding.”
The dwarf makes no attempt to stop the group as they climb back out of the hole. But his grim look adopts a considering aspect at the gnomes words. Finally, he nods saying, "Alright, aye. If you find anything I could use, bring it round and we'll find something to trade for it."
As Cath makes his way to the ladder the dwarf grunts but otherwise ignores the quip. "Fighter, if you want your team to survive, be more careful. Not everyone down here is as friendly as I am."
His eyes follow the group as they leave his workshop. Once the last of the group climbs out you hear a quiet 'clack' sound as the recessed floor hatch closes behind you. The cave is returned to darkness save for the lights you have brought with you, and the quiet echoing sounds of the cave fill you ears once more.
"What chance would a young boy have against things dangerous enough to warn a well armed party of?" Sparks asks the others as she idly tugs at a loose rock embedded in the cave wall. It pops free of both the wall and her grasp. but with quick reflexes her other hand darts across her body and snags the large pebble out of the with a gentle click of stone on flesh that echoes down the tunnels and back. "Enough to risk our lives for with no indication he even made it to this cave at all? Perhaps the grumpy, unhelpful dwarf was our sign to give up on this errand?"
Tainesh blinks at the Elf's reflexes, both impressed and at a loss for words to comfort her. Finally, with the rest of the party still withdrawing from the Dwarf's home, she decides that Sparks deserves the honest truth.
"The best place to look for a child lost in the wild is-" The wizard pauses, remembering Spark's horrified look back in town, when she'd first realized that young James might have already perished. "-Is in the dens of predators that may have found him already. In a way, we're counting on the predators to have searched the woods for us. The only way I can imagine James still living is if this Shining Lady has sheltered him. Strictly speaking, that might not be a good alternative."
"Thank you. We'll be sure to knock next time," the gnome says as he climbs the ladder.
He listens to Sparks as he adjusts the burden on his back, and remains silent as Tainesh offers a sensible response. The wanderer trundles to the cave tunnel that led them to the dwarf's home. He regrips the shortbow in his left hand and holds up his everburning torch with his right, and raises a challenging look to the elf. "Go back if you wish, girl. Tell the folk in Sharlstown that you gave up when you met a grumpy dwarf." He pauses and adjusts the quiver of arrows at his belt. "Or, let's consider what we know so far. Both the children of Sharlstown and this dwarf acknowledge the Shining Lady, the suspected abductor of James. And, true, while we haven't seen any clues placing James in this cave, our canny Cath here pointed out the evidence of a recent struggler, dragged deeper into this tunnel." Umros points down the way yet unexplored. The old storyteller shrugs as a smile breaks under his big white moustache, "It isn't much to go on, but I have a feeling this story is not yet finished."
The little gnome presses onward into the cave tunnel.
Cath follows the gnome, keeping an eye out for anything of interest.
"I had forgotten about the trail," Sparks admits. "And you both make well informed points. It also seems quite odd to me that the dwarf last saw children and this Shining Lady around the time James went missing... I am curious enough to follow the trail to its end assuming there are no serious dangers. But, I can promise no more than that, seeing as we are likely not being paid for our little outing."
Sparks fall in to the end of the line but not before skipping her newly acquired stone back up the tunnel they'd come. The series clicks and echoes it makes before bouncing to a stop well out of sight draw something near to a chuckle out of the ranger before she turns and follows the others deeper into the cave.
Aside from the that, the tunnel remains dark and cold and seemingly perpetually on a downward slope.
Other than that, the tunnel remains dank and blacker than midnight save where the party's lights cast shadows.
Upon departing from the apparent home of the subterranean Dwarf, the motley crew of companions continue deeper into the earth. There is little to mark the time save the occasional idle chit chat amongst relative strangers. The tunnel remains ever dark and dreary, the only light being that which the party brought with them. The only sounds that which the party makes.
For what seems like hours of steady descent proceed in this way, before you notice that something has changed. It's hard to put your finger on it, but with a flash you realize that the tunnel is no longer natural. Instead it's showing definite signs of tool use. The floor smooths out and the ceiling becomes regular. Not to mention the little twists and kinks in the path have now straightened out. It's been at least half an hour since the last bend in the tunnel.
Aside from the change in the make of the underground route, little else catches your attention until it seems as if you step out of the tunnel into a blanket of darkness. Your light sources no longer illuminate the walls and ceiling, only the floor beneath your feet. It takes a moment for those without the gift of dim-sight to realize that you've finally exited the tunnel and arrived in a large cavern.
As your eyes, and mind, adjust to this new space you start to notice some of the features of the dark room. It appears to be entirely artificial, someone carved this area from the living stone. It's walls seemed to be covered in carvings and pictures, and the floors are rough with some sort of carving of their own. The place is dirty, but some elements of it seem to be in better repair than others. Specifically the three grand pillars grouped together near the center of the room. If not clean, they at least seem to have been tended to over the years.
Perhaps of most interest to you, is that there doesn't appear to be an exit, other than the tunnel you just arrived from...
"Whoa ho ho! What's this then?" Langblade says as she draws her own torch from her pack. Taking a moment to light it, the fighter quickly discovers that the cavern possesses many wall-sconces along the perimeter.
She makes as if to begin lighting them.
Sparks turns to watch the tunnel pass behind them as the group exits into the large room. She briefly stretches her hands out to her sides and then tall above her head as she takes in a deep breath, clearly appreciative of finally leaving the comparatively narrow tunnels.
"I have seen caverns before, but this is... wow..." she says to the others, not quite able to express her amazement. "Is anyone else hungry?" she asks after a brief over to Langblade and her new, fiery source of light.
"Yes," Tainesh replies. "I'm famished."
The stonework back in the tunnel had caught her attention earlier, but this room intrigues her. It is fantastic to think that such a room, on par with the decorated cathedrals on the surface, could exist so far from civilization. And the dedication required to carve these bas relief images spoke of great purpose in the room's design. Were those pillars ceremonial? Load-bearing?
There is obviously much that she doesn't know, and may never be able to, but what Tainesh can see leads her toward one inescapable conclusion:
"This cave is not a natural formation," she says. "Someone built it, so it must lead somewhere."
The wizard stops to consider what she just said, and then dismisses her Light. In the darkness, the rest of the party only hear the sound of someone smacking herself upside the head.
"OK, these carvings over here are very interesting!" Tainesh says as she casts another Light cantrip. "Umros, Sparks, do they mean anything to you?"
Umros stows his shortbow and runs a hand along the hewn stone as they travel deeper underground. When they reach the great opening, his silver eyes sparkle in wonderment, and a grin grows across his face. Sniffing the air, he takes in the carvings, the pillars, and best part: the open expanse. The traveler didn’t realize how cramped he was feeling until he felt room to breathe once again.
The gnome makes a whimsical, wandering dance over the carvings in the floor, making his way to the left to gaze up at the pictures on the walls as well. He studies them for a motif, or language, anything that would communicate their meaning and the meaning of this room.
It takes the easily-distracted alchemist a few moments to realize that there is no other exit, aside from the one they passed through. He raises an eyebrow, and looks about for concealed openings in the stone. Trained to Listen as well as look, Umros’ free hand snaps his fingers to a slow tempo, listening to the acoustics of the pillared chamber.
Sparks too begins to examine the room and its various stone carvings.
"Does anyone still see the trail we were following?" she asks, as even her eyes strain to spot the dim splatters in the meager available light.
Though she doesn't at first notice it, Tainesh spots her Gnomish companion at one point examining a etching in the center of the floor. Partially obscured by dirt and grime it takes the wizard a moment to recognize the images as writing. An old and seldom used writing for the language of strange things living deep below the surface! With a little effort the arcane student is able to parse out the text:
Spoiled beneath suspended star,
The light thought once near, is far,
And though we know we've lost the way,
She holds both truth and hell, at bay.
With impact, struck hard, from heaven above,
A cursed tale, of longing, and love.
Heart bore of ice, to reconcile,
Yet for all this, are we to be, reviled?
The sound so sweet as if from dream,
Calls for to meet, the dark, obscene.
So with this, we leave anew,
Our woe, and now woe for you,
Interred, beneath, this place so deep,
Interred, bequeath, does it sleep?
In addition Umros notices something interesting. About two thirds the way up on the pillars are three uniform openings, one for each column. Empty circles carved into the stone with ornate edging around them. They appear just large enough for someone to stick their head in, though far too high off the ground for any of the present party to make such an attempt. Above these openings are three more holes, likewise one to a pillar. Square in shape, they all seem to have a board or plate suspended in the middle of them. Each plate seems to have a picture, or etching on it's face. The leftmost, an upended flask dropping out some sort of burning liquid. The center, a perfect snow-flake. The right-hand, a depiction of a fire. After a moments study, the wanderer would bet a peck of pickled peppers that those plates had at least two faces, and were designed to spin on their axis.
With careful examination the Gnome moves around the room before finally spotting the hairline-thin fracture in the rock. Someone has worked hard to keep this door hidden. It rests behind the center pillar in the sheer rock face. The musical cleric does not notice any obvious means of opening the recessed portal.
However, as her sharp Elven eyes scan the room Sparks notices something interesting. About two thirds the way up on the pillars are three uniform openings, one for each column. Empty circles carved into the stone with ornate edging around them. They appear just large enough for someone to stick their head in, though far too high off the ground for any of the present party to make such an attempt. Above these openings are three more holes, likewise one to a pillar. Square in shape, they all seem to have a board or plate suspended in the middle of them. Each plate seems to have a picture, or etching on it's face. The leftmost, an upended flask dropping out some sort of burning liquid. The center, a perfect snow-flake. The right-hand, a depiction of a fire. After a moments study, Sparks would bet a pair of pilfered pelts that those plates had at least two faces, and were designed to spin on their axis.
She is unable to detect any more blood-trail.
The group searches and examines the cavern fully. Strangely shaped images or runes cover the floor, but of more decipherable interest are the murals lining the walls. With inspection you can tell that it's all one long image showing a story, or perhaps history, of- something.
At the apparent "beginning" of the mural are lines of tall barrels topped with some sort of five-pointed flower, or perhaps star. Further along there seems to be a motley collection of various races all facing the same direction. Humans seem to be most prominent, but there are also Elves, Dwarves, and even what looks to be Goblins present. Some of the figures are bowed to the ground, but others have arms outstretched. Empty hands alongside hands holding swords or bows can be seen. Beyond that there are images that one could only describe as children. Again of various races, all of them have their hands drawn together as if in prayer or maybe bound.
All appear on their knees.
All have their faces turned up to obvious subject of the mural. A woman, clad in fine linens, ascending god-like to the stars above. Clad in glory she holds her hands open towards adult and child alike with a benevolent smile upon placid face. Beams of radiance seem to dance outward from her image and though you know it to be merely a stone likeness, those same beams seem as if to dance and shimmer just at the edge of your vision.
Beyond the radiant woman, the mural returns to those strange barrels topped with stars, and apparently connected to the ground with roots or tendrils of some kind.
Langblade calls out over her shoulder, "Yeah, I could eat." as she makes to light the last torch, suspended on the center pillar in the middle of the room.
"Hmm... it appears that we live in one of the remote corners of the world," Tainesh muses aloud. She finds the inscription and reads with deep interest... and then unease.
"The sound so sweet as if from dream,
Calls for to meet, the dark, obscene.
So with this, we leave anew,
Our woe, and now woe for you,
Interred, beneath, this place so deep,
Interred, bequeath, does it sleep?"
She taps the inscription thoughtfully, until the hollow echoes send shivers down her spine.
"We're... we're not standing on a dead god's tombstone, are we?"
"That mural is certainly... interesting. Is that our Shining Lady?" Sparks wonders.
Showing caution, the Elf sits and begins to rummage through her pack staying near the middle of the room but far enough from the three pillars that they hopefully won't be a danger should something odd happen.
She pulls out one neatly wrapped trail ration and then a second and third before placing two of them back, apparently deciding she wanted the third one instead of the first two.
From her lower vantage point Sparks notices something odd about the pillars. "I don't think these are so much supports as... mechanisms... Could it be they turn? Like a puzzle in an adventurers story?"
“I’ve heard of caverns like these,” Umros’ hushed, awed voice echoes faintly off the high walls. “Caves of the Stars, I’ve heard them called…”
He listens with a smile as Tainesh reads the poem, and smile widens at her conjecture. “Perhaps! This structure is very old, I know that much…” What a tale this will make, if she is right! He continues walking. Since he found no handle or button to activate the hidden door, he feels little reason to bring it up just yet.
He nods appreciatively at the sharp eyes of the huntress. “I saw them too, and I agree. This puzzle might open a hidden door. There is a symbol on each,” he points up for the benefit of those who did not yet notice the metal plates. “The flask, upending a burning liquid, a snowflake on the center pillar,” his finger lastly stops on the far right pillar, “and a flame on that one. I think the first symbol might represent acid. Sparks may be right, the metal plates look like they can rotate.”
“I wonder though,” the gnome tugs at one end of his pointed moustache, “what the acid, snowflake, and flame have to do with this Shining Lady… or the poem...” He trails off, lost in thought. The chewing sounds of his companions alert him to a pang in his own small belly. As he pulls a small roll of hardbread out, the alchemist also unpacks a flask of acid.
Working his teeth against the tough crust, he peers at the contents of the flask, and then up at the hole below the image of acid. After a few long moments, he looks to the others. “I might I try tossing this into that hole and see what happens...” He pauses in case one of his companions voice any objections.
"Flames or acid?" Sparks muses between bites. "I would much prefer to risk the cold in any of its forms than being burned or... hmm... burned. I suppose acid 'burns' as well?" Her voice shifts from a hint of worry to a tone of mirth. "You would think those smart enough to invent words could have come up with just one more."
She continues to eat and ponder then a few minutes later has an idea.
"Before we start tossing acid above our heads perhaps I might try to rotate one of the plates with an arrow? I'm sure it would only take me a shot or two. If nothing happens at least the worse off we would be is I might have a few less arrows...
Umros chuckles at the thought of an acid shower, or more accurately, the surprise involved for those foolish enough to not move away before the throw. But he keeps the humor to himself and grins at Sparks' suggestion.
"Try it!" he beams.
"All right..." Sparks says, as she finishes what little remains of her meal. She stands, dusts herself off, and moves her pack to the mouth of the tunnel with little hurry.
"I am going to try shooting one of the plates on the pillars. Maybe to activate some secret magic or mechanism," Sparks says to the others. "Like in the story books," she adds, directing the comment at Tainesh.
Giving the others plenty of time to get clear, Sparks unslings her bow and slowly circles the room looking for the best angle to the pillar marked with a snowflake.
"All right. I am firing now," she says in final warning before notching an arrow and letting it fly towards the plate with the image of a snowflake.
for
"From a medical standpoint, alchemical burns and fire burns aren't that different," Tainesh says as she stares at the pillars.
Ice... acid... fire. Were the pillars magical? Were adventurers expected to lob ice and acid and fire into their respective holes? She could provide the ice, and the acid if she was willing to waste the charge stored in her ring on a mere cantrip. The fire... well, they had torches, and out of five adventurers, someone had to have a good throwing arm.
"It's got to be some kind of test." she mutters to herself. "If a mage wants to deny access, they use a lock and key. Or they enchant a hidden door with a passphrase and don't leave a riddle lying around. And if it's just ceremonial, they go with something thematically appropriate, or just use the classical elements."
"This only makes sense if we-" she is cut off by the twang of Sparks' bow.
Cath, who had taken up the rear guard, is the last to enter the chamber. He looks around as Langblade lights the torches and the others discuss their findings.
When the others mention being hungry, Cath quickly realizes that he forgot to pack trail rations. You idiot!
The arrow whistles through the fire-lit cavern and strikes the suspended plate on it's rightmost edge. With a soft creak and resounding "clunk" the plate spins on it's center axis and locks back into place, with it's opposite side showing. Now instead of a snowflake the plate shows an image of a slick, viscous goop.
After the echo of the impact dies down the cavern is returned to the quick crackling of the torches, seemingly undisturbed.
Langblade, having lit the final torch, sits down with her back to the leftmost pillar. Digging through her bedroll she produces a small flat-cake and strip of dried meat and begins to tuck in to the meager meal. Out of the corner of her eye she watches the arrow fly towards its mark.
“I know what a snowflake is, but that escapes me…,” Cath says when the plate stops spinning.
”Any idea how we can get up there?”
"Tar, maybe? Or molten metal? It does not appear welcoming, whatever it is..." Sparks suggests. "I may be able to climb up to the holes, but to what end? Having someone struggle their way up and place or break a container of the indicated substance seems far too inelegant for whoever tunneled out this place and made such impressive murals and carvings."
"I would guess the solution is magic..." she says before going looking for her arrow.
"It's, uh, hmm... Tainesh says. "I know what that symbol is for, or at least I think I do, but I think we'd be better off shooting the plate again."
She realizes how much of a non-answer that is after a moment, but explanations can wait. This weird aura she sees around the pillars could be important.
Tainesh is willing to bet that there arespells hidden inside these pillars, it's just that their auras are being masked by the many feet of stone surrounding them. The only reason she discovered what she did was due to the empty holes on the upper half of the columns.
"There is a fair chance I lose an arrow each time I do this, but if you think it best..." Sparks says as she lines up another shot.
With a little more examination of the rock strata though, Cath is able to determine that they are, by this point, several hundred feet underground. Maybe a few miles away from where the group made it's way underground.
The plate swings back around and clicks into place, snowflake side towards the group.