Not sure what to make of the discovery, Bali pokes at some of the mud.
I suppose we should clean this up eventually. I don't see any boat, though even if there were one, I'm not sure I'd get in it.
Nurin allows the heavy tome to drop to his side. He had been reading for days, and magical theories swam through his head. He squints at the mud-covered dock and sighs. He points to the collapsed building. "Hey, maybe something was in there. We should see if there's anything in the rubble."
"Good point Nurin. Let's be about it, there must be something here we can use."
Pravic pulls his hammer from his back, expecting to use it to chase critters away that are likely more afraid of him than anything else. He makes his way to the crumbled building to look around.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Reginald stays and starts sketching up plans for a suitable raft in the dirt, just in case.
Ingrid stays near Reginald, keeping a defensive watch over the older dwarf. After all, anyone remaining on their own in unknown circumstances was asking for trouble.
-Posted with Wayfinder
Lothar had been a quiet companion throughout the journey. Although he said precious little, he was clearly listening to many of Reginald's lessons about magic.
Now the group were approaching the ruin, he brought his spear into play, keen to spot any ambush or new inhabitants the ruin may have attracted over the long years.
Grimdahl investigates the ruin closely, scraping the mud off the stonework and looking for clues, heedless of the dirt that sticks to him - it's only dirt after all; and dirt from the Azathyr can't be much different from dirt in the surface world, can it?
The remains of the ruined building reveal little as to its original use. A stone archway, once a the frame for the entrance to the structure, stands alone, its flanking walls crushed by the fallen mushroom or eroded by the ravages of time and nature. A name is carved in Dwarven in the stone: "Vostenstod Mining Co." There are signs of what might have once been books, but any useful information has long since rotted away.
Grimdahl is able to wipe away years of mud and grime from the stone pillars, finding more runes: "Isle of Seven Horns: 10 leagues by Himmelsvard. City of Xan: 45 leagues by shore. 30 leagues by Himmelsvard. Temple of the White Queen: 30 leagues north."
Ivy walks to the end of the dock, careful to avoid slipping on the muck-covered surface. She takes a rock and skips it on the water of the lake.
Nurin sifts through the remains of the destroyed books. He shakes his head. "At least we do know dwarves were here, but this is all ruined."
-Posted with Wayfinder
Ivy walks to the end of the dock, careful to avoid slipping on the muck-covered surface. She takes a rock and skips it on the water of the lake.
Grimdahl shakes his head wearily. "Don't you know what happens when you do that...?"
He turns his attention back to the writings he has uncovered. "Master T'jener: do you recall anything about the Vostenstod Mining Company? Or Himmelsvard? What about the city of Xan or the White Queen?"
Musing further, he considers things. "We've found the dock, but no boat. If we want to get to the island, we'll have to make a raft. Or we can explore one of the other places."
Let me think a moment, my boy... Reginald responds.
Secondly you recall some things about the City of Xan. At the time of Dammerhall's collapse, it was the largest community of myconids in all of the Upper Azathyr. You're not sure about its location, but you know they prefered to stay neutral between the wars of Dammerhall and Taaryssia, the great city of the drow.
Of the White Queen and the Himmelsvard, you have no knowledge.
Ivy suddenly stands up. "Uh, could somebody come over here and tell me what I'm looking at?" she shouts, pointing into the water near the dock.
Reginald pieces together what he knows bit by bit. Suddenly Ivy has something more! This place was truly a challenge to the memory! He walks over and peers into the water.
Nurin comes to stand over with Reginald. He peers down to see what Ivy is pointing at. "What is it?"
Ivy suddenly stands up. "Uh, could somebody come over here and tell me what I'm looking at?" she shouts, pointing into the water near the dock.
Grimdahl sighs wearily, assuming that Ivy's stone has woken some horror in the deep water best left undisturbed. He wanders over, cautiously, drawing his scimitar as he does so.
Off the end of the pier, perhaps 15 feet under the water, is a strange metal tube. Large and covered in muck, it has has a series of fins, almost fish-like in their position. A line of circular ports run down the length and opposite ends hold a propeller and a series of delicate instruments. It is thoroughly unlike anything you have ever seen.
Reginald gasps and stares for a moment before he can form words. When they do form, it is a veritable food of information.
They did it! My beard, they did it!
The Vostenstod Mining Co. was an expedition of industrious Dammerhall dwarves that had their fingers in a number of experimental sciences. They left home to further their research after a few of their more outlandish experiments returned... "Unfortunate Results"(their words) and strict regulations were imposed. Whatever is on the island must have been their compound and here is proof of one of their more basic theories!
Reginald motions for Nurin to join him and splashes onto the mostly submerged machine. The cold of the water is powerless against the flame of discovery that is burning in the old dwarf.
They proposed that a non-acquatic being could survive under water for long periods of time sans any Abjoritive or Trasformarive effect if a vehicle could be manufactured to mimic the effects of known Conjuration spells like Air Bubble. Give me a few minutes...
Reginald starts examining various section of the mechanical wonder, focusing on the hatch. He sends Nurin under water several times to report on this or that.
After a few minutes of tinkering, he has Nurin carefully twist a circular wheel on the latch while he watches for signs or fatigue or decay in the metal.
Nurin joins his mentor in the water, feeding off Reginald's excitement. He tired to follow the elder dwarf's instructions, though he was baffled by the construction of the machine. "Then this is proof that the ruins were indeed built and inhabited by dwarves! Part of me was afraid we were being led astray. So in theory, we could use this to cross the lake?"
He plunges down to inspect the craft, trying to follow Reginald's description of what to look for. He pops up several times to try and detail what he is seeing, sometimes resorting to hand motions when his words fail him. Finally, he takes the wheel and twists it carefully on the main hatch.
Grimdahl is just relieved it's not what he feared; although he is not especially keen on trying to cross the lake with something that clearly doesn't seem to have succeeded. He says none of this, unwilling to dampen the old dwarf's enthusiasm.
Instead, he puffs on his cigar, and keeps watch on the lake and the shore as best he can, for anything that might be disturbed by their activities.
In theory. I'll have to inspect the inside. Reginald says quietly. His attention is locked on his work, not his voice.
The hatch protests only slightly to opening despite being hundreds of years old and slightly submerged in water, a testament to the craftsmanship of the dwarven engineers that built it. Beyond an airlock that drains the water that rushes in with Nurin and Reginald, is a compartment large enough to fit 14 dwarves, with seats for 12 passengers and 2 crew. The air is stale, but remarkably dry. To the stern is a remarkably complex steam engine; to the bow, a set of delicate mithril controls.
Reginald slowly climbs into the craft and whistles in awe. Take a look around, Tarnhammers. This is but a glimpse of the wonders that our race was once able to produce.
Her curiosity overcoming her, Ingrid follows Reginald into the craft, looking around in wonder. She suddenly feels very small, and for a brief instant, she's back in the caverns; she clenches her eyes shut, takes a deep breath through her nose, and the memory passes. "Wonderful, indeed. But will it hold?" she asks.
"Very nice."
Grimdahl does his (poor) best to be diplomatic: he has known the fey of the Seelie Court to change their shape to glide on the air currents or swim through the deeps, and he harbours ambitions to learn how, someday. This toy is all very well and will doubtless prove useful right now, but the clear disadvantages strike him as obvious.
He gives a sympathetic glance at Ingrid, being wise enough to discern her distress.
Nurin follows Reginald inside the vessel. He looks around with awe at the mechanical devices and many levers. "I've never seen anything like this! You say it can breathe under the water? Do you think it works? Can it take us to the island?"
He comes to the controls and examines them.
Bali gawks in astonishment. "Is that... What is it?"
-Posted with Wayfinder
fuel.
On the control display, is a pair of compasses. One is a true compass, which points in the cardinal directions. The other appears to be attuned to something called the Himmelsvard. Whatever it is, it lies to the southwest. The island, and whatever remains of the Vostenstod Mining Co, sits to the north west.
"Can we get this thing going? I wonder where it can take us. There must be more to explore than just a lake to make building this thing worthwhile."
-Posted with Wayfinder
"Himmelsvard?" Ingrid murmurs, raising one eyebrow. "Reginald, have you ever heard of such a thing?"
Reginald punches a few buttons to flush the engine. I've never heard of it. Probably another secret.
I'm going to need lamp oil and a fire source. How much fuel do we have?
"Sir, we don't even need this vessel to submerge like it's designed. We just need it to float watertight." Nurin tries to follow the instructions to check or find the indicator for the fuel level.
"Just saying if we are low on fuel, perhaps riding on the surface will help."
Reginald smiles. Right you are, lad. Good thought.
Grimdahl is quietly relieved by this: the prospect of being entirely surrounded within a metal cocoon was not a good prospect. Druids tend to eschew metal as far as is possible.
He stands quietly and lets the more technical-minded dwarves get on with it.