"The Cult of Rebirth are based in the Corpse Commons." Guldarin strokes his beard. "Well, that sounds not at all dangerous. Whereabouts are we supposed to be going, and can we get a drink of water there, preferably water that isn't poisonous in the water some of the other water in the area is as while we can certainly purify it we may not be aware of the problem until the berserker rage that seems to be a symptom starts and I certainly wouldn't like to go berserk myself, it would be very bad for my beard."
Suspicious that the dwarf is talking even faster than usual, Kevaras examines the invoker for early signs of the berserker rage.
"I believe the stories. It is a vicious plant and like the Trignotarbs, does not officially exist. If that too is awakened, then Kaima's time does indeed draw near. It is time to make contact with the Cult of Rebirth."
"Thiir, why would Kagush and Gafto refuse to believe the existence of the Trignotarbs, if they are a sign of Kaima's return?"
"Oh, and you should probably know that our definition of 'make contact' ranges from dialogue to the application of the business end of a weapon. I get the impression that Kagash feels the Cult of Rebirth is merely misguided, and would frown upon the killing of fellow oklu."
Greeg nods at Kevaras' words and whispers to Cronin in his usual rumbling way "I tend to not get involved in negotiations until the hitting part, eh Cronin! You remember when I had to argue with those Mushroom Men beacuse they wanted to use our water supply to lay spores for their offspring. That didn't work out so well....mostly for them, but the point is I shouldn't be doing much talking if we aren't meant to hurt these folk."
He found he was holding himself stiff, his arms locked firmly at his sides to try and stop the wierd behaviour that was going on around him with his companions. Perhaps these Okluhad some kind of mind control thing going on as well and were making his friends act in wierd ways, like puppeteers?
Resplendent in his new headgear, Greeg's thunderous whisper nearly drowns out Guldarin's questions and Kevaras's explanation of Diplomacy as understood by his companions.
Thiir raises her hands as the questions wash over her.
"Kagash and Gafto are believers in the old ways. They are sure that the Kadrana Masters will return soon. I am not so sure. I think they have long gone. For them and for most oklu, to believe anything else would be heresy. Among the Cult of Rebirth, things are different. We ... they ... have broken free of the imprint of the Masters.
We will none of us willingly harm another oklu. There are too few of us and we are all Kaima's children. But there are some who think that heresy is dangerous and will silence us if they can, for the safety of all. My own position is precarious is my allegiance is known. I must trust you.
The Corpse Commons was once a home to the mightiest of the Kadrana Masters. Some still dwell there as ghosts."
Nayce tries to determine the sincerity of Thiir's words.
Looking at Thiir, Nayce believes her to be completely sincere. She is also clearly taking some risk in being so open with the group.
Cronin looks thoughtful. "So, to see if I understand. You believe that the Malsalix may be tainting Kaima's tank, as well as the water of our people outside of Kadralu. The Cultists, in the Corpse Commons, could help us.
"Would the ghosts of the Masters be sympathetic?"
"Well, thank you for being so candid. If the Cult of Rebirth is as amicable as you are, then there shouldn't be any misunderstandings at the Corpse Commons."
"Well, let's get to it then" the big Goliath said emphatically. "ummm,... I' ll be needing my hammer and javelin back though please. In case I am needed to help with negotiations and such. I tend to think more clearly with my weapons around. People tend to not interrupt my train of thought as much either. Not sure why really."
Thiir nods her agreement with Cronin's assessment, but adds a warning.
"The ghosts will have their own agenda. Doubtless they too will wish to waken Kaima, but I would not count on them to be helpful. They believe themselves to be the mightiest of races."
At Greeg's request for weapons, she smiles slightly.
"That was a precaution. Your weapons will be returned to you."
Don chuckles at Greeg's remark, "Ghosts? Real ghosts?" He frowns, "That's....tricky work that."
"Real ghosts, or so the Cult of Rebirth says. They have dedicated many years to learning to materialise."
Nayce grimaces at the mention of undead. That which is slain ought to stay that way.
"Ah, are the corpse commons known for being unpleasant in any way, cold or hot perhaps, that we would need protection against, or is it just a matter of dealing with a few cantankerous ghosts that are probably going to be rather unpleasant to us in ways."
Ready.
Thiir looks thoughtful.
"I cannot tell what dangers you may meet, but if you wish to purify water, you should at least be able to swim."
Elixir of Water Breathing
Lvl 8 125 gp
Consumable: Elixir
Utility Power Consumable (Minor Action)
Effect: You drink the elixir and can breathe underwater for 1 hour.
Thiir doesn't know how to make this herself but she thinks someone in the Cult of Rebirth will.
Thiir's body language is decidedly furtive as she leads the way into a series of backstreets to an iron grating - leading, as she explains - back into the sewer system. As before, the tunnel is mercifully dry in this part of the city.
She gives precise directions and gestures abruptly. "Go now. I can explain your absence well enough, but I should not stay here."
Don laments, "Always underground...." He adds after the party descends, "Never fails to get me how everyone always goes to hide either in the bad side of town, or in the sewers. Sure it's not a bad spot, got good flow of the city, and out of sight, but it's got constrictive access, bad smells, lighting issues, a telltale that, and its the first place people look."
He speaks with the voice of experience.
"Perhaps, for your sake, our next quarry can be housed in a comfortable boudoir," Nayce says, suppressing a grin.
"I wouldn't protest."
Cronin's halberd glows as the party proceeds through the sewer.
Greeg moves through the sewers, not overly uncomfortable. He had spent times in the outer tunnel systems of his own mountain home and some of those smelled worse than this. Air tended to stagnate in tunnel complexes, particularly near settlements were fungus and legumes were the staple diet.
He thought of Meeren for a moment, figuring he wouldnt mind spending some more time with her in a boudoir. He smiled, then returned his attention to the job of keeping his companions alive.
"Boudoirs are nice places to corner someone for a final encounter, are they? I'd have thought the pillows would have been a problem, since they'd probably burst and once that happens the whole air would be filled with feathers, which would make it harder to see people when they weren't very close by increasing the chance that they'd escape and incidentally causing all sorts of problems for people who are both ticklish and lightly clad."
Guldarin is less talkative than usual as he follows along, carrying out an inventory on his ritual components as he goes.
Don stops in his tracks, staring befuddled at Guldarin for a moment. He then shakes his head before getting back into line.
Thiir's instructions bring you out in a wide street. This was once an elegant neighbourhood - albeit built on a giant scale. Looking at the architecture, it seems that the rumours of the advanced nature of the Kadrana giants were not much exaggerated.
Buildings rise on both sides of the boulevard, seemingly not much harmed by the city's plummet from the sky. True, there is some rubble here and there, but in general the place looks safe and even habitable.
"Random building, or down the road arbitrarily?"
Cronin looks about for anything promising.
"I think if we walk into a building full of folk who aren't expecting us, they may take it as a bit rude Cronin. After all, we're all pretty heavily geared up here. Maybe if just, i don't know, walk casual like, they will come to us. 'course it won't hurt to be ready for an ambush too."
Greeg also looked around, hoping that the locals weren't going to just shoot the all on sight with whatever ranged defense they could must.
Don shrugs, "Everyone knows adventurers get right of passage for any home or interesting lookin enclave. Never know when there's something there of use. Bookshelves, beds, the privy...Once I found a handful of gold after killin a sheep!"
"So we're lookin for this Cult of Rebirth right? I really hate these buggers, but I guess I can go do a looksee."
Streetwise
The streets are entirely silent, but the dwelllings do not look neglected. To Cronin's eye, all the buildings seem rather lavishly appointed, almost of a mansion standard. The nearest has attractive statury in the garden and neatly gravelled pathways.
Don's eye is more for the general, but the layout suggests that there might well be a servant's entrance of some kind.
"Or just knock on the door."
"Never know when there's something there of use. Bookshelves, beds, the privy...Once I found a handful of gold after killin a sheep!"
"It's true. Whether it's inside sheep or spider, no treasure is safe."
Knowing hardly any words of Giant, Kevaras waits to the side of the door while Cronin knocks.
Greeg nods at Cronin's suggestion and does just as asked. He walks up to the nearest inhabited looking building and knocks politely. However, his prodgeous strength again fools him and he ends up slamming into the door with a loud boom. It echoes in the otherwise quiet streets, and he thinks maybe some of the paint has chipped on the door.
"Ah, anyone home? We're looking to find some of the cult of rebirth, if it aint much trouble" he booms in his politest tones. (Asking in Giant to start with)
Greeg does his best to oblige and opens the door. Despite his worries, the giant-sized structure suffers no harm. The Kadrana built to last.
Within, the house is perfectly clean and dust-free, even under the cracks in the ceiling. Ahead lies a central common room and in it, three giant bodies lie under sheets and surrounded by a circle of stones.
Don edges a knife out of its sheath, "Don't touch it...Most important part about being a snoop is knowing where not to go. All this talk about these giants coming back doesn't mean we have to be the ones who do it." Realizing he hasn't had a chance to insult anyone of late, he adds with his classic roguish grin, "Well at least we know that the trigger for em isn't poor noise discipline, random babbling, or charming bandits."
"The Masters, it would appear. But not the Cultists. Let's try the street again."
"Oh?" Guldarin looks at Don. "Have their been some bandits, charming or otherwise, in the area before us, because I certainly don't see any signs of them, not that I'm sure what charming-bandit-sign looks like, is there are particular type of shoe pattern they favour or something?" Guldarin peers carefully at the street.
"Yeah, there's been one for sure in the region." Don says with faux seriousness.
Emerging once more into the streets, it now appears that the town is waking up. Perhaps the absence of natural light has altered the normal patterns, but there are now figures bustling in the street a little distance away. Their tasks appear completely normal - sweeping pathways, lighting and cleaning lanterns and entering houses with cleaning equipment.
The great majority of the beings are oklu with the characteristic sea-green scales of the servitor class, but here and there enormous ghostly giants walk proudly among them, talking among themselves.
Greeg looks at the ghostly figures with some discomfort. Generally, he preferred the dead to stay that way. It was against the natural law for creatures to remain bound to this realm once their bodies had died.
"Probably best that you do the talking here Cronin. I'll translate for the others if they insist on speaking giantish."
Cronin nods and approaches an oklu. In Giant, "Greetings. I am Cronin. Please bring us to speak to your lothaa."
The green-skinned oklu jumps slightly, but the habit of servitude is strong. Even so, there is something about this oklu that seems a bit different.
"Are you friend or foe?" she asks cautiously.
"We are friends to the oklu. We destroyed the Skittering Death."
"Oh. That makes a difference. Come with me."
She guides the party quickly down the street, bowing automatically to any ghostly giants, and looking cautiously down the sides of buildings. At length, she turns into one of the houses, the front hall occupied, as before, with covered corpses. Gesturing slightly at the prone figures, she leads the way up the stairs and into a library. Well to the back of the house, the occupants cannot be seen moving from the street.
Looking through the books sits a graceful, blue-hued oklu and it is she your guide addresses.
"Roko, we have visitors. They have destroyed the Skittering Death."
Don walks hurriedly, giving quite the alarmed look to any party members nearby.
Nayce smells nothing beyond dust and the faint odour of embalming fluid as he passes the corpses. Without removing the covering sheets, he can tell no more.
In the library, Roko is looking at the newcomers with interest. Exquisitely polite, she clears seats and offers herbal tea before taking her own place.
"What brings you to the Corpse Commons? Have you had visions?"