One by one, Gorim performes Calming Touch on the travelers.
"Not too much further..." Gorim hopes.
The hikers follow the turn, finding the pass to abruptly end with a sheer cliff. Wind blasts over the lip of the edge, and from where they stand, the man, dwarf, and half-orcs can see miles of snowcaps speckled with black stone. Stepping out closer to the cliff reveals a deep drop to unforgiving rock below, and while the whipping snow finds no purchase on the steep face, the wind seems all the fiercer. After a moment of searching for the path, a small ledge continues from the opening of the pass and along the rock wall, zigzagging at an upward incline along the dark, freezing stone.
The ancient walkway is free of snow in most places, but in other places, it is crumbled away to a narrow shelf scarcely wide enough for a foot. Proceeding up the switchbacks prove to be a different challenge from trudging through deep snow; the unbridled wind whips around the rock face, constantly tugging at loose fabric and at moments, threaten to throw the travelers off balance. Hugging the cold rock wall or firmly planting feet until the gust passes prevents the four from a perilous fall, but progress is slow nonetheless.
Quick hugs his clothes tight and proceeds with care.
Gorim progresses, uneasily.
I've seen quite enough of these hills...
"Not my time yet," Henry Southgard mutters as he steps onto the ledge. He makes a point to step only where the dwarf has stepped, reasoning that Gorim has a better grasp of stonework than he does.
After nearly an hour of shuffling up the mountainside with the howling wind buffeting their passage, the four finally see the end of the switchbacks reaching a platform of sorts. A very strong wind sweeps along the ledge above, pushing the falling snow out and away from the cliff, as though the wind came from the mountain itself. Finally reaching the last incline of the narrow path, the mountaineers peek their heads over the ledge to see a flat, hewn floor. Angled walls form a point deeper into the stone with an enormous dragon head carved from the rock protrudes from the centered corner. Pointed stone teeth line the entrance to the dark cave, and such is the detail of the carving, it is near life like.
The strong wind is coming from the throat of the regal and reptilian maw, and it is too dark to see far into the cave itself. Such is the force of the chilling wind, that approaching the cave grows increasingly difficult with every step.
"That's ominous," Henry Southgard mutters as he looks over the cave mouth. The lack of wear and erosion, what one would expect to see hundreds of years after a sculpture is carved, prompts him to study every detail from the eyes to the teeth. He pulls out his bullseye lantern and lights it for a better view.
Resolving to get out of the cold, he climbs up on the platform and beckons the others to follow him to the cave.
(N-14)
(N-13)
The crossbowman loses his balance and almost falls, but manages to steady himself and leans into the wind.
(N-13)
(N-12)
(N-11)
(N-10)
(N-9)
He slips on a patch of black ice, but quickly regains his footing and presses on.
(N-9)
The mercenary pauses at the mouth of the cave and waits for the rest of the party to catch up.
The Dwarf stares at the carving, "...impressive." He begins to stumble down towards it, loosely following Henry, careful with his footing, "The detail, just look!" he exclaims to the whole as a whole.
Gorim rushes out, in attempt to catch up with Henry, eager to get a closer look.
(K-14)
(K-13)
(K-12)
(K-11)
(K-10)
(K-9)
He almost loses his footing one or twice along the way, though he makes it to the maw nonetheless.
"Ha-hah, these teeth, so real! I've nevah seen anythin' like it!"
|
Gwath begins to make steady progress.
(T15 to S14)
(S14 to R13)
(R13 to Q12)
Gwath throws his arms up in front of him to shield the wind and balance his grounding. "Lovely. Place. To. Visit."
(R13 to Q12)
The progress is slow if not at all...
(Q12 to P11)
(Q12 to P11)
(Q12 to P11)
(P11 to O10)
(010 to N10)
(N10 to M9)
(N10 to M9)
(N10 to M9)
The half-orc makes it to his comrades."...ughh... Finally."
When the four reach the throat of the dragon, the tunnel continues with roughly hewn walls, stretching for twenty feet before arcing upward. In the ground in front of them, three chiseled symbols are spaced five feet apart. Strange markings, like chicken scratch organized into lines surround the three images. The closest image is that of a five-digit humanoid hand, with three one-inch spikes protruding upward, like points of a triangle in the palm. The strange markings around the hand read: Sos. Vodahmaan sahlom fen drun aldak. Five feet away, the second symbol looks like a small bowl hollowed out with bar of stone crossing its center. The ring around the bowl suggests that this might be a stone handle to be lifted up –similar to the lid of a stone urn. Around the handle, the ancient script says: Yuvon. kusah do faraan los ni ven wah vahzah suleyk. The third image, carved into the floor fifteen feet away, appears to be a right and left hand imprints, also humanoid in form. The writing in the stone floor around the third image reads: Luh. diist dren ativ onikiv do Uthylzarion’s luhaal rah.
The wind howls through the tunnel, fiercely trying to push back the four. Henry’s light sputters, weakly flickering despite the protective lantern around it. The vertical turn ahead presents a problem; the curve stops when the tunnel continues at a severe angle, nearly straight up.
Blood. Forgetting weaknesses will bring destruction.
Gold. The pursuit of wealth is not the path to true power.
Magic. The first step toward the enlightenment of Uthylzarion’s arcane divinity.
Gorim spots an oddity in the stone ceiling ahead, twenty feet away: the whole slab of stone is cut in such a way to allow the ceiling to lower all the way to the ground. The lack of distress in the floor stone indicates that the ceiling does not drop suddenly, but instead, lowers slowly. The stone overhead and above the three symbols do not appear to be cut in this way, and from a stoneworker's standpoint, the first fifteen feet of ceiling, wall, and floor have no moving parts.
Quick suddenly starts walking like he's lived here his whole life.
He presses his palm onto the spike and lets some of his blood flow down. "Ko tiid, sahlom meyz mul. "
He then removes his purse from his belt and empties it into the bowl. "Faraan los ni nuft, merely dahn. "
Finally he moves to the last carving and conjures a ray of frozen power into the carving. "Suleyk luhaal tol led faal Zilf gein wah rah dahral. "
He turns to Gorim, "If you would, priest, cast a spell upon this mark. Something to honor the holiness of this place if possible."
Quick's eyes flash as if he just returned to himself. How did I know to do that?
1. In time, weakness becomes strength.
2. Wealth is not a purpose, merely a tool.
3. Power arcane that led the Silver One to divinity.
Henry Southgard braces against the wind and fiddles with the lantern. He nods in agreement with Gorim, impressed by the craftsmanship of the cave. It must have taken months of work by eminently skilled craftsmen or (he glances sideways at Quick) a mage with fine control of his magics.
The sideways glance crystallizes into full-blown gawking as the half-Orc steps forward and works with the runes.
What's the kid up to?
"That bit of ceilin' there," states the Dwarf waving his finger down the tunnel, "looks like it can lower down slowly, perhaps a way up?"
The Priest steps forward carefully toward the final carving, nodding at Quick' as he passes, and casts a wave of positive energy onto the mark, "An offering of energy, pure to it's core. May we enter The Dragons protection?"
It's a pity I've yet to learn Draconic...
Henry Southgard doesn't take his eyes off the mage. "Maybe," he replies to the cleric. "Get a closer look if you can."
The ancient writing pulses faint blue light as Quick interacts with each of the symbols, though the last one waits until Gorim leans into the wind and joins the sorcerer at the imprint of two hands. Once the glow of the third inscription fades, a deep rumbling of grinding stone and heavy moving parts can be felt more than heard amid the howling air currents. As the dwarf predicted, the stone ceiling just in front of the foremost pair slowly lowers to the ground, revealing an entrance to a spiral staircase hewn into the solid stone and blocking the difficult wind. Henry’s lantern stops sputtering and shines anew when the wind ceases.
The stone steps rotate upward in total darkness, revealed to be cut from drab grey stone as Henry’s lantern light touches them. An eerie, still silence pours out from the vertical passage.
"Just as I thought." Quick says haughtily.
|
|
Gwath attempts to decipher his surroundings but is completely bewildered. His hand grasps the hilt of his blade and stays there. He does not distrust Quick, but he does not trust him either. He only hopes he hasn't been led into a trap.
"It seems you're at home here, Quick. Don't mind us, after you."
Quick will lead the way in.
The sound of boots scraping stone and clanking armor break the silence as the four trudge up the spiral staircase. For the first time in hours, the air around them is still and close. After a few long minutes of climbing, the stairs lead to a large, open room. But once Henry’s light reaches the area, all attention is drawn to the grand, glistening statue in the center of the room. A towering, silver dragon looms over the four, unmoving but life-like in detail. Average silver tarnishes over time, yet the draconic visage shines like it was polished yesterday. The yellow lantern light reflects and illuminates more of the large room, revealing stone pillars rising up twenty five feet into the air, and to their right and left, entrances without doors lead elsewhere.
The echoes from their movement suggest to the four that this room is much bigger than they can see, and the deepsighted three can only see the beginning of a wide, upward-leading stairway at the edge of their vision, beyond the statue.
The grandeur of the statue is truly breathtaking, and it takes the sorcerer a few minutes to notice a terrible flaw: two of the digits of the silver dragon’s rear claws are missing. It looks like they were cut off.
Henry Southgard steps forward to get a better look at the dragon. Silver tarnishes over time, and he'd seen all manner of foul pastes used to polish vases and urns. But he can't help but be reminded of silver icons in churches, too holy to tarnish.
Removing his eyes from the statue, he sees a door off to his left, but nothing much beyond it.
"Spread out, look for signs of habitation, don't step out of sight."
Gorim wanders out in amazement "This is quite somethin'..."
His eyes drift between the stone pillars and the statue, briefly toward the ceiling too. He grins back at the group in excitement, though perhaps to try gauge Quick''s reaction.
Quick cries out and rushes toward the statue's rear legs.
"Who would do this!?"
"Signs of habitation, perhaps?"
Now pointed out by the distressed mage, everyone else notices the two missing digits on the rear left claw -it looks like they were cut off since the statue was placed here. Everything else about the great silver dragon appears to be intact. Their voices and movements echo across the stone walls and floors. No other sounds of habitation reach the ears of the four.
However, as Gwath and Quick move further into the room, both of them can see the grand, shallow stairs rising up to great double stone doors. As high as the ceiling and twenty feet across, the rectangular grey rock slabs are carved with a rampant dragon motif, and large smooth stone rings hang at head-height.
Whoever committed the irreverent act likely recognized the value in the precious metal, and hacked off what they could carry. Guessing at the weight of the remaining talons, the treasure seeker may have walked away with about ten pounds -a considerable sum to be sure. While Quick is no expert tracker, he notices a greasy handprint on the dragon’s knee where the thief held on to leverage a single swing. The fingers of the handprint are narrower but otherwise the same size as any man’s. The oily dulling effect on the silvery sheen hints that the handprint is not yet dry, indicating that the vandalism happened recently.
Quietly, Quick draws his falchion.
"Henry, cover the entrance where we came in. Let nothing past you."
"Gwath, sword out if you will. There's someone here..."
Quick will slowly begin searching the room.
Searching for an hour, half-orc mage finds no more clues to the intruders in the large room. The floors little to no dust on them, and pillars are smooth and straight. Up the grand staircase and inspecting the door, it looks like the doors are built to be pulled inward in order to pass through them.
There is one thing that grabs Quick’s attention: a not-easily-seen scale on the underbelly of the great, shimmering dragon looks like it could be a button. Looking around again for a function, the only other supporting oddity is that the stone on which the statue rests is one big square. Perhaps the button leads to a secret door? Quick isn’t completely sure.
I push the button.
Henry Southgard retreats to the entrance, lights an additional torch, and places it on the ground nearby . He stands at the ready, occasionally calling out to the others to see how their search is going.
Gorim loosely follows Quick', to be sure he can't be caught off-guard and alone.
The floor beneath the four suddenly begins to rumble with movement, and the stone on which the dragon stands rises up. It continues to grind upward, stopping the dragon’s head inches from the high ceiling. Beneath the dragon now opens another stone staircase, this time, spiraling downward. Clouds of dust and foul air in the movement of rock show that this mechanism has not been activated for ages.
"From one thing to another," Henry Southgard mutters as the staircase reveals itself. "Did anybody touch anything?"
"Not that I'm aware of..."
"I did. The vandal likely went this way, but we should check all adjoining rooms."
"Yes, we should," Henry Southgard remarks as he picks up the torch he'd lit earlier. It had burned out during Quick's search, leaving only a shaft with a head covered in greasy soot. Perfect.
He draws a line on the ground, one end pointing to the statue, the other to the exit. He marks the latter end with an "E" and writes an "A" nearby, inscribed in a circle.
"Pardon me, but I can't see as well in the dark as you folks can. Always get turned around."
He stops by the statue, squints at the base, and draws an arrow pointing toward the exit, again marked with an "E".
"So, how many adjoining rooms did you all see?"
"Just thah two of 'em," states the Dwarf, gesturing towards each doorway.
"We could split up, double the search, unless you think some critter is gonna get a jump on us?"
"We could split up, but we would be more vulnerable..."
"No splitting up. We search this room first," Henry Southgard says as he walks to one of the entrances. He marks it with an arrow and an inscribed "D", and beckons the others to follow him.
Those who follow Henry see that the entrance leads to a hallway with several doors leading into small cells. Decaying, simple and ancient furnishings wait for a single breath to reduce them to rubble, but mark these small rooms as living quarters. At the south end of the hallway, another dark doorless entrance can be seen, and when the light is brought closer, the downward angled ceiling suggests yet another spiral staircase going down.
The four look over the five rooms adjoining the corridor, and find very little that does not crumble to dust at the touch. Indeed, some furniture is already reduced to fine pieces when rooms are surveyed. Piles of cloth that perhaps served as bedding, or wall tapestries, or door curtains litter the floors of the rooms as well, stained and frayed by the slow decay of time. In the room at the end of the hallway, a single chest of bolted metal sides resting in the corner, but the lock appears to be smashed and the lid left thrown open. There is nothing inside the open chest, but unlike the rest of the surfaces in the rooms, there is no thick coat of dust at the bottom of the box.
Henry Southgard pulls out the dice he took from the Ogre, tosses it down the stairs, and listens as it rolls down to the bottom.