Amandine finds that by carefully pulling out a few threads of enchanted copper, she is able to disable the electrical trap. The glass cases are now safe to be opened - or smashed, once Greenly is done looting jewelry from the wax figures.
The shelves behind the glass contain a small museum's worth of artifacts brought back by the Armies of Exploration and other Taldan collectors. Ancient Kellid totems of bone, Mwangi masks carved from jungle wood, shreds of Vudran silk tapestries, bronze leonine sculptures from Tian Xia, and more sit on display for no one. These cultural trophies could be worth quite a bit to collectors and museums.
Greenly snatches a number of necklaces, brooches, bracelets, and pins from the waxen nobles. She heaps them upon Imistos, resulting in perhaps the most richly festooned halfling in all Oppara.
As Chana carefully examines the eastern door, she finds absolutely no traps or trickery hidden about it.
Chana follows right after Olivia, ready to guard the reliable paladin's back.
Once the electrical trap is disabled Amandine quickly moves through the room with Olivia and Chana. She glances about at the objects in the cases, looking for a couple of them to take. She specifically wants something hand-sized or a little smaller, and with a bit of heft to them.
If she can find enough, she will stuff one or two in her pouch, and keep one in her hand in case she needs to launch it at something dangerous.
She gives the door on the far wall a quick check before Olivia opens it.
A fearsome winged beast poses ferociously in the southeastern corner of this square room. Two wolves stand in similar poses in the northern corners, while an immense coiled serpent poises itself in the southwestern corner, ready to strike.
A small elephant stands in the center of the room, its head drooping far too low, and the top of its neck torn open.
Thick ropes hoist avian creatures of every size along the ceiling, with an impressive eagle taking up the most space above. Doors exit to the north and west.
Of course, the condition of this taxidermy specimen is a far cry from the majestic stories told of such creatures.
Amandine peeks into the room for a look around. "No circles in here..." she mutters offhandedly as she looks for any suspicious rigging on the taxidermied creatures.
Chana stares at the stuffed creatures in the room, subconsciously hissing under her breath. When none of them jump forward, imbued by some strange spirits, she relaxes. "That thing with wings looks like a griffon. Good thing its not alive and trying to kill us like those walls and suits of armor, right? I've heard stories that they're really dangerous."
She takes a close look at each of the taxidermy specimens, just for safety.
Then if nothing seems unusual she continue to check the door to the north.
Amandine takes a couple of minutes to check on the charges they've collected. Talking to them briefly, asking them how they're holding up. She looks for signs of panic, exhaustion, creeping insanity, or anything else that might lead to sudden difficulties due to unexpected or erratic behavior from them.
The Trant woman seems to be doing fine, but things have gotten weird down there in the under-Senate or wherever they are, and she figures it's best to avoid surprises from their own people.
Dame Trant is still grappling with the loss of her father. Although Greenly's presence and support are keeping her confidence up, this has been far more traumatic than her bearing lets on. Rather than being evil, Malphene is simply a woman accustomed to throwing her weight around. Besides being a turning point for Taldan, this evening's tragic chaos may be a turning point for this erstwhile bully, as well.
As for the halfling, Imistos Gulbend, he appears to be watching each of the party members carefully. At first, you suspect he is looking upon each of you with awe, or perhaps admiring some of their bodies. (A flash of jealously strikes you with the thought of him ogling Olivia.) However, you realize that the halfling is actually taking account of the weapons and items each of you carries.
As Olivia and Chana approach the northern door, their steps are halted as the wolves in the corners begin to stir. With mechanical clicking sounds, they struggle to raise upon their hind legs. The warped first tones of magically recorded howls issue forth before being strangled out. The legs of one wolf buckle, and the preserved beast topples onto its dust-caked flank, while the fur upon the spine of the other splits open, its supports sticking out like jagged bones, and it collapses into a shapeless heap on the floor.
The sudden, albeit doomed movement of these taxidermy automatons spooks all those gathered in the room, and the fright is only heightened as the griffon next begins to move.
The griffon's wings begin straining to flap, only for one to rip from its socket and flop to the ground. It struggles to move forward, tearing one of its taloned feet from its leg as it steps down from its display with a replicated screech. With awkward, jerky movements, the taxidermied griffon approaches with claws readied and an echo of deadly instinct preserved within its lifeless eyes.
Hearing the screech, Greenly bounds towards the center of action, awkwardly pushing through the crowds with ease.
Amandine turns about when all the screeching and crashing in the next room begins. First she looks to see where Greenly is, and since she's still in the room, Amadine figures it must be some sort of new threat. Seriously? In there too?
She tells the people she was talking to to stay put and hurries over to see what's happening.
Hearing the disturbance, Photinè tears her eyes away from the silver raven statue. She would like a chance to examine it more closely, but right now, there are more pressing matters; she hurries around the glass displays to join the others.
To Chana, this place is starting to seem less like a bolthole with a few traps and guards and far more like a purposefully constructed death-trap.
'Wot you fink Snips? Someone don't want us leavin'?'
She advances upon the automaton, scimitar held up before her.
The old, untended mechanical joints within the preserved beast creak and groan as it animates. It prepares to attack with its mildewed beak and the taloned limb that has not ripped off.
However, the obvious damage already dealt to the bizarre construct by time and neglect makes you wonder how long such a foe could actually last in a fight.
Chana springs at the mechanical griffon as well, her scimitar falling towards it in a vicious arc!
Amandine has been carrying around a heavy decorative ashtray in her hand for just such an occasion. She tosses it up into the air and then concentrates on it hitting the griffon in the head.
Just before it would begin its descent, the ashtray streaks off across the room toward the griffon.
Olivia and Chana's attacks tear gaping holes in the preserved beast's dusty, feathery hide. Amandine's ashtray ricochets off the griffon's beak and lands near Greenly's foot, cracking into several pieces upon the ground.
Tanglefoot takes cover in the adjoining room, insisting he will protect the group's noble charges.
Greenly swipes at the beast with her blade, calling out in warning "Lady Livy, beware! It's animated!"
Greenly's blade leaves another gaping wound in the preserved griffon, and Photinè scrambles to find something to throw at the beast that wouldn't be a waste of a valuable relic.
As the creature's beak snaps at Greenly, the bodyguard ducks and evades the strike.
However, a talon rakes at Olivia, scratching through her clothes and leaving sizeable gashes.
The taxidermy monstrosity's wire frame appears to be weakening as the battle wears on.
Chana *tsks* as the creature cuts into Olivia. "Back off if ya need ta, Oliv!" She circles carefully to the side of taxidermied griffon and glances over at Olivia and then at Greenly. If the barbarian looks her way, Chana nudges her head in the direction of the flank.
'Is the mad dog gonna be cunnin' enough ta distract it from the otha' side?'
She muses to herself as she waits for the griffon to provide an opening. As soon as one presents itself, she lunges in for the kill.
Amandine chastises herself again for not maintaining discipline. Moving things mentally is easy, putting them where one wants reliably takes constant practice to stay in trim. She hasn't been doing it of late.
Instead she moves around Greenly and comes at the griffon from a different side than the others. She knows her rapier is far from an ideal weapon for a mechanism of this type, but maybe she can catch a joint or hinge.
Greenly nods back at Chana and moves to take the suggested place only to find her place already taken. Flustered, she misses the griffin entirely.
Photinè lifts the crossbow she took from the adjacent room and aims for the animated griffin’s eyes, but as she is also trying to avoid hitting her companions, the shot misses by a mile. She makes a sound of frustration at her own unfamiliarity with weapons.
Strikes from Olivia, Chana, and Amandine's blades weaken the creature's already strained frame - bringing it past the breaking point. As the griffon raises its talon for another swipe, you hear the loud whine and pop as seams burst and wires snap.
The preserved beast collapses as the last vestiges of magic and mechanisms holding it together are broken. It's wire frame sticks out from its feathery hide like broken bones, and its fall kicks up a plume of smoke.
With the once-impressive displays in this preserved menagerie fallen into broken heaps, the room is again still and quiet.
When the griffon taxidermy construct thing falls apart Amandine exhales with relief.
The ridiculous "whatever the hell could people back then have been thinking?" nature of the place they're all stuck in is beginning to make her testy. She looks around quickly but not with interest anymore.
"Let's keep going before something else creaks to un-life and tries to shred us."
With not a clue as to what is and isn't worth taking, Greenly continues heaping anything that appears valuable (so, everything in the glass cases) onto their helpful halfling.
For a moment, Chana merely hisses under her breath at the no-longer-animated griffon and the other taxidermied creatures in the room. Then, catching herself, she straightens and lowers her scimitar.
She clears her throat. "Ah, not-" She breathes out to compose herself. "Not yet, Oliv. I'll take a look." In an effort to cover her increasingly wild behavior, she hurries her way to the door to the north and checks it over.
If she doesn't see any traps, she cautiously eases the door open.
Finding the door safe, Chana pushes the door open - fighting against the ages of dust and neglect that choke the hinges. It groans open to reveal an arterial hallway that stretches very far both to the left and the right.
As Imistos catches up, carrying the magic lantern, the light reveals that several doors line this 200-foot-long hallway. Although a few of them belong to the rooms you have just explored, of particular interest is the sizable metal door set in the northern face of the hallway, off to your left.
"Anyone have any idea which way is out? This place was built like a maze..." She pauses. "Really, considering what we've seen so far, maybe I shouldn't be surprised if it IS a maze."
She pauses to listen for any sounds coming from the hallway, just in case she can hear the chaos of the fight in the senate continuing.
Assuming she hears nothing, she shrugs "One way's as good as another. So how about that way?" She points eastward down the hallway.
"I wonder how this place became lost? It seems like someone would have cared enough to keep its memory alive generation to generation. There are a lot of remarkable things stored here."
Amandine gets out in front to give the door a check before anyone messes with it. "That electrical trap has me worried. It was clever and complicated. Whoever had it installed wasn't fooling around. We should keep checking carefully for that kind of security until we're clear of here."
You must be beneath even the lowest basement of the modern senate, for you can still hear nothing but the breathing, footsteps, and murmurs of your wayward group.
The door at the eastern end of the hall is an ornate work of carpentry, decorated by beautiful, complex scrollwork etched upon its thick surface. Amandine finds it both safe and unlocked, so she hazards to push the door open.
Thick wooden bookshelves jut out from the eastern and western walls within this old archive. Bundles of paper, scroll tubes, and thick tomes cram these shelves nearly to bursting. Layers of dust coat some areas of the chamber, but others remain suspiciously clean. In particular, books and papers crowd one of the worktables in the southwest corner, smeared with ink.
Two doors exit to the south, on the far end of this repository of history.
Chana spends some time trying to spot exactly what sections look non-dusty in order to work out why. Once she has a handle on that, she walks down to the worktables in the southwest and checks what might be there... fully expecting it to be more weird circles.
"I'm gettin' to the point Amandine, that I'm expecting this here table to spring to life, papers and ink and all. Maybe grow a mouth and try to eat us." She turns back and gives the half-elf a lopsided grin that's lost behind the veil. The amusement in her voice comes through clear though.
Amandine replies that "it's too likely to happen to be funny". But she smiles at Chana's quip anyway.
Amandine has seemed very tense ever since the Senate massacre and that doesn't change. She also hastily looks around the room, but there's so much packed into it there's no way of telling where to even start.
"It's heartbreaking really. All this knowledge just left down here to rot. I hope there's some way to get back here after all this is over. Maybe at least of it could be rescued."
Since most of the traps so far have been in rooms rather than at entrances or exits, Amandine keeps a wary eye out for dangerous looking things.
Chana finds, upon the work table, a cluttered collection of old books on mathematics and geometry. Although there are no circles to be found drawn on the pages or table's surface, several crude bookmarks made from scraps of leather or bits of bone highlight sections dedicated to circles.
He was possessed of a romantic disposition, as evidenced by the overly elaborate descriptions of old Oppara and amateur poems written within the entries. However, he was also a wizard of some skill and seems to have become obsessed with immortality - although there are no useful secrets to such an end written within this tome.
"It looks like the circles drawn everywhere weren't part of a children's game. Don't summonings make use of circles?"
Greenly is uninterested in the books, but she gives them a cursory once over.
She also makes idle chatter with Malphene, trying to cut the tension and be a friend, considering the violent loss of her father and all.
Photinè turns the pages of the autobiography, skimming a few of the more interesting passages.
"Our circle-drawing friend seems to have an interest in the magic of immortality as well," she announces. "Perhaps the circles have something to do with that; they're a good representation of retour éternel, after all.
"Well, our crazy circle artist is sane enough to come do some research on them, at least..." Chana picks one of the books up, bookmarks and all, and tucks it into her satchel, just in case it turns out to be useful later.
"Who knows, maybe the only way out of this place is to draw a really high quality circle on the right surface. That'd explain why we've seen so many."
While the rest of the group tackle any further investigation in the library, Chana checks out the two southern doors for any hazards or traps.
And then, once people are ready, opens the south-eastern door.
"Who knows, maybe the only way out of this place is to draw a really high quality circle on the right surface. That'd explain why we've seen so many."
Amandine laughs out loud at this one.
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Despite being forced to slog through extensive Galtan lessons, Greenly doesn't know shit.
"I think it means like orborb snake or something stupid like that."
"It means 'eternal return'," Photinè explains, glancing at Greenly. She picks up a piece of charcoal laying among the books and papers, and uses it to draw a circle on a scrap of paper, carefully connecting it back to itself. "As a circle has no beginning or end, it means that existence is recurring, and will continue to recur. But it's just an old theory, and certainly not the secret to immortality."
Leaving her sketch behind, Photinè makes a quick sweep of the library, feeling for magical auras and keeping an eye out for any useful books or scrolls.
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Olivia watches Photine draw out the circle and looks a bit puzzled. "Do you mean how souls can be brought back into being with resurrection magic, and this person just plans to be resurrected over and over again? Or do you mean never dying to begin with? For instance living forever but never dying of old age? Also what language do you speak? Is that Elven?"