"Whomever built these rooms expected to be down here for a long time," Photinè says, glancing around the room and settling on the symbol on the stone building. "Perhaps indefinitely."
"Oh, wow. Don't this look like a temple to Aroden to anyone else? There was an ol' crumbly one back in-" She clears her throat. "I mean, I've seen a ruined shrine to that god out in Oppara before. Shared a lot of the symbols." Quick to change the topic from her slip up, she adds "There's some kind of magic coming from something on that work-table, the one with all the vines on it."
Chana approaches the table to identify what seems to be carrying the aura. When she spots the bottle that Amandine also spotted, she fishes the bottle out from behind the vines if she can, then attempts to assess its aura.
Chana snatches the bottle from the fragile vines that held it weakly in place. No labeling has survived, but she recognizes it as a particularly strong healing draught - although its potency has somewhat faded with time.
With the help of your noble wards, the common consensus is that the building to the south is, indeed, a temple dedicated to the dead god, Aroden. The entrance sits open between marble pillars, veined with ivy that has inched towards the vaulted roof of the old temple.
"Oh! Something to help when we get hurt!" Chana pockets the potion.
Then, seeing no obvious hazards in this strangely overgrown room, she heads southwards into the temple. "Not sure about any of you, but even if there isn't a way out through here, maybe we'll find something useful. That Factor did say there were supposed to be two important keys..."
As she speaks, she cautiously pokes her head into the temple, looking around for anything dangerous.
Greenly looks around scowling. "Why should I care about some dead God?" she grumbles.
She steps forward and cries out "Hellooo, Aroden, are you listening?" smirking. "If he answers, I owe you, like, 10 gold." she remarks to nobody in particular.
Moving to the back of the vault and investigating the temple, you find three rows of pews standing before a stone altar. A human statue stands atop the altar, its face and right arm broken off and shattered upon the floor around it. Two smaller statues of women - each wielding a sword and shield - stand in raised alcoves in the southeast and southwest corners.
As Greenly enters and offers her challenge, she receives a reply! A pale, shimmering form steps forth from the broken statue and stands in midair. The image of a sharp-featured man with a carefully cropped goatee looks down upon you.
"You have entered my house," the spectral figure booms. "To come in peace, deposit a tithe to show thine respect."
The figure, presumably an incarnation of Aroden, gestures to a small lacquered box sitting at the foot of his statue, almost hidden among the bits of stone.
"Hm." Photinè steps into the temple after Greenly, her heels clicking audibly on the stone floor. She glances around the room, and examines the figure from afar, looking thoroughly unconvinced. "Is this what the House of Aroden has come to; begging for scraps in a forgotten ruin?"
Chana snorts in amused surprise. "There you go Greenly. You're up."
She eyes the apparition with cautious skepticism. Even she knew Aroden wasn't real. Which meant this was another weird trick most likely. She waits to see how the illusion (?) responds or doesn't respond to Photine.
Aroden spoke? Maybe now she'd have to actually pay attention to that old coot grand uncle-cousin of hers some time. After all, when he wasn't desperately trying to get history and religion lessons to stick to her, he was always going on about his job and how he could, like, remember Aroden speaking secrets directly to his ear and how hard it was to maintain the shrine with the shrinking congregation but how he had faith he would hear His voice again, blah blah blah. What would he do in such a situation? Something, like, boring and old people-y, obvs. Pray, probably.
Nervously, she steps forward, edging close to the tithing box. "Hey there," she waves at the image and smiles meekly, full of jitters and anxiety.
"So I just like put money in, yeah? A lotta people do that? Or, uh, well let's just see," she picks up the box and shakes it. Satisfied by any sound (even no sound), she tucks the box under her arm and hurriedly walks back to the group, hiding behind Photiné.
Amandine assumes the apparition is a programmed permanent illusion and goes about her business looking around inside, including trapped items or areas.
"Pay it no mind, probably been running for hundreds of years."
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"Stop! Show some respect for the God of Humanity." Olivia says as she steps into the temple. "Each of you carries his legacy through your very blood. Think of the priests who were driven mad by his death, the civil wars, the disasters, all just a century ago. You owe him and his followers some sympathy."
In response, Greenly points the tithing box at Olivia. "Does that mean you're willing to make a donation? I'm sure that a, like, dead god would be very appreciative."
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Olivia rolls her eyes and takes the box. She returns it to the foot of the broken statue, and places a gold piece within. She kneels down and prays with her sword on her lap. "Lord Aroden, to this day there are still many who mourn your death. You were a god of innovation and culture, raising human kind out of the darkest ages. You saved us from becoming just like the orcish savages, you raised from the depths the magnificent country of Absolom, and you brought three mortals to godhood. Iomedae in her mortal life followed you devoutly, just as I have taken the sword in her name. I swear to honour your memory, as an inheritor of your spirit. Rest in peace."
The image of Aroden seems to tremble for a moment, then he speaks again.
"Do not question my power, lest you would incur Arrow-dean's anger," the seeming god decrees, mispronouncing his own name.
A cloud of golden particles rains down from the rafters among the vaulting roof of the temple. They rain down and coat the room, eliciting fits of coughing from you.
Mid-cough, Chana looks up towards the ceiling to try to find the source of the golden dust. She holds a hand up to shield her eyes, muttering "Somefin up there?"
Out loud, she adds "Arrow-dean's anger sure is dusty. Kinda... makes sense."
Photinè covers her nose and mouth with her handkerchief and holds out her hand, letting some of the golden dust settle gently on her palm. She reaches out with her magically-attuned senses, trying to discern the source of the magic in the temple.
Amandine finds Olivia's devotion to Aroden an odd quirk, a little endearing in a grandma kind of way. She's not feeling it herself, but doesn't comment. She doesn't want to offend Olivia.
It's responding to what we say, so not a programmed illusion... Someone is actively controlling it. Not that smart considering the mistakes, so probably not the immortality researcher... Someone else running a scam? How close could they be?
Amandine reaches out feeling for an unknown personality nearby who might be inclined to pranks or duping the foolish.
With the exception of Greenly, who is still toying with the tithing box, each of you find your attuned senses being drawn to the preserved wooden rafters supporting the arching roof of the temple.
Amandine senses a being of unpredictable, unreliable nature, while Olivia perceives its aura of wicked and callous cruelty. Photinè's spell helps her trace the caster of the shoddy illusion of Aroden, and Chana simply relies on her keen eyes, easily piercing the shadows to find the small figure hiding above.
A small, gray-skinned man - the size of a particularly flabby, balding halfling - crouches among the rafters. He cowers behind one of the old beams when it becomes clear that you have spotted him, although his red-fringed white robes are still quite visible from this hiding spot.
Amandine calls up to the gross little man in a bored voice..
"We can already see you so you might as well cut the crap and come on out. If I have to come up after you, I will kill you for causing me the extra trouble."
She presents the choice to the man as if it were a statement of simple fact.
Greenly, oblivious to whatever whomever is talking to, simply sits down and tries to pry open the tithing box. If everyone is gonna have their attention directed elsewhere anyway and Olivia won't let her take the box, maybe she'll be less stringent about its contents.
The little man briefly scoffs at Olivia's threat, but Amandine's words quickly set him a-quiver with fright.
"No, no, no!" he exclaims, falling into utter cowardice. "Please do not hurt me! I will give you everything in my magic bag if you spare me."
Meanwhile, Greenly cracks open the broken clasp on the tithing box, and the lid groans open open rusted hinges. Little more than dust, some pebbles, and a tiny centipede sit inside.
"I..I..I've already collected all the past tithes into my magic bag," he babbles. "But if you'll let me live, you can have them all."
Amandine adds "and be quick about it, we're in a hurry."
Spurred by Olivia and Amandine's encouragement, the gremlin upends his bag and shakes its contents loose. A small shower of gems rains down upon the tiled floor of the temple. A kaleidoscope of colorful stones, ranging in size from a thumbnail to a child's fist, scatter around your feet.
Two potions also plummet to the floor. One cracks open, spilling its earthy-smelling contents across the floor, creating a thin soup of gems and broken glass. Thankfully, the other potion is stored in a stoppered skin and survives the fall.
Lastly, punctuating the rain of wealth is a brief but high-pitched chiming sound. Sharp eyes notice the source: a small key, similar to the one withdrawn from Factor 12's archives, bouncing a couple times before coming to rest near Greenly's feet.
After you answer some questions Amandine adds. "You've been here a long time right? You must have run across whoever has been drawing the circles all over the place. Who are they? What are they like?"
The gremlin scrambles for an escape, but he halts with a squeal when Amandine reproaches him.
"You speak of Dagio," he says, half questioningly. "He is a rat that walks like a man. He has somehow gained sentience, magic, and seemingly immortality. When he visits to collect the tribute I offer to be left alone, he always babbles about how he must become 'master of the circle,' whatever that means. He actually calls me the High Priest of his kingdom."
The gremlin offers a low, cackling chuckle before spitting a yellowish glob of sputum on the temple's tiled floor.
"As you can guess, he's crazier than a...well, an outhouse rat."
Greenly chortles and collects the items in the tithing box. "Some priest of Aroden he turned out to be, eh, Lady Liv? You know, my uncle or cousn or something runs the Shrine of Aroden back in town. Do you attend his services? I ask cause like you seem so devout and revenant, er, reverent."
Her collecting done, she hands the tithing box off to poor Mr. Gulbend, another thing to weigh him down as they make their journey
"Wait, do you mean this Dagio is literally a rat? I've never heard of such a thing."
Amandine eyes the little gremlin skeptically.
The gremlin shuffles nervously atop the rafters. Amandine judges that he is still worried about escaping this situation with his life, but to that end he tells no lies.
"He's the size of a giant rat, though he walks upright. I know not how he underwent such a transformation, nor how long ago it happened, but it's true!" the gremlin practically squeals.
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"I have met Father Basri at the Basilica of the Last Man a few times, is he a relative of yours? My circle volunteers there from time to time to help take care of the artefacts. You see, my Goddess Iomedae the Inheritor was once a paladin of Aroden before she ascended to Godhood herself. If I were to disrespect something she dedicated her life towards, could I truly worship her? I don't believe that Aroden will ever return, but that does not mean I can't respect his memory."
Photinè plants her hands on her hips and peers up at the strange little creature. "Where does this Dagio keep residence?"
"I've never seen his home, but Dagio calls it the Senate of Circles," the gremlin answers. "He says it is sealed behind a great locked door, and that only he knows the secret way around the barrier. That's fine for me; I never had any desire to venture into that crazed rat's lair."
After his answer to where Dagio the amazing scholar-rat could be found, Amandine is quite finished with the gremlin.
"Alright, be on your way. But you'd best remember something well."
She touches the gremlin then steps back away from him and whispers.
"Just as you can hear me right now, I will now be able to hear you wherever you go down here. If you do something stupid, like go running to Dagio or anyone else and telling them we're here, I'll hear it and know. Then we'll hunt you down and show no mercy."
Greenly sticks a finger up her nose and gestures towards the door with her other hand, completely uncaring about the gremlin. "Should we, like, get going, then?"
Amandine judges that her warning works, based upon the extra haste put into the gremlin's step as he withdraws into the recesses of the forgotten temple and waits for the party to leave.
Having explored both ends of the long, arterial hallway running through these old archives, the last path to travel is the final door set into the hall's north face. Presumably, this will lead to whatever barrier requires the two keys you've found - and, hopefully, provide egress to the surface.
As the group wanders out of the strange gremlin's hideout, Chana snaps out of her bout of introspection. "A rat that walks like a person. Weird, eh? Would be interesting to chat with... except he's both immortal and completely crazy. That's going to make it real tricky."
"As for any locked doors leading to a Senate of Circles, well, we have two keys now. That Factor fella said two keys were needed to get through the renovations. Or something like that." Chana looks through the party's gear and fishes out the first of the two keys, checking to see if it matches the second one the group found. "Seems like things are lining up to force us through Dagio if we want to escape."
Back in the long hallway, Chana looks to the north-side doorway, then back to the south doors. "If we do have to try to get past a giant, smart, insane, magic rat, I wouldn't mind being a little bit better protected. Maybe there's something we missed picking up in the earlier rooms."
Chana checks the door to the west side of the wax figure room and then opens it up to see if it has any useful anti-immortal-rat equipment inside.
Amandine follows along with Chana to scour the places they've been again for useful things, but keeps urging haste.
"We must get out of here and find out what's happening in the city!"
Photinè follows the others at a slight distance, keeping pace with Dame Malphene so they can speak. "Mademoiselle, it occurs to me that I have not offered my condolences for your loss." She inclines her head for a brief moment before continuing. "Your conduct down here has been extremely admirable, as has your sword arm."
With a coy smile, she lowers her voice, "I will deny it to anyone else, but had we fought tonight, I daresay you could have won."
Photinè's condolences, entwined with praise, strikes a sincere chord with Dame Trant. Malphene hazards a sliver of a smile - and not the smile of a bully, born of arrogance, but rather one of genuine relief. She proudly claps her hand upon the hilt of her borrowed sword to emphasize the strength that Photinè has highlighted.
This comparatively quiet time spent with unexpected support has done wonders for this woman who, despite never doubting her physical strength, has never before had to confront vulnerabilities in her inner strength.
You return to the dust-curated displays of old relics given over to time, looking for any additional edge over the uncanny rat creature that lurks somewhere ahead of you, presumably etching his mad circles over and over again. As you rummage through the better condition, even enchanted items, you receive a new mental message from Martella via your senate aid badges.
"Out of the senate. Stavian's soldiers still pursuing. Fighting throughout the entire senate building. Wherever you are, keep your heads down!"
You have little time to digest Martella's information or form a reply before your attention is drawn by a commotion back out in the hallway.
Upon investigating, you find a bewildering sight: your noble wards have fallen into utter chaos. Lady Urbaen is walking into the northern wall, seemingly frustrated by her inability to pass through the stone. Sir Gryphus has seized Zubari by the throat, leaving the Abadaran struggling to fend off this sudden throttling. Lord Botoles shuffles away from the bizarre scene, clearly frightened but babbling only incoherent nonsense.
Gulbend presses himself against the wall, seemingly unaffected by whatever has happened but afraid of this unknown happenstance nonetheless.
Chana goes to touch her own badge to reply, but the sudden wave of madness leaves her instead rushing forward to try to break up Sir Gryphus and Zubari.
Even as she tries to do so, she eyes the northern door with suspicion. While she struggles with the nobles, she calls out "Everyone clear from the door! Some kinda weird magic on it, and you don't want to be caught in it, yeah?" She waves to the others to help pull the other nobles to safety.
If the group can get clear, she'll detect magic on the door to suss out what might be going on.
Amandine helps Chana with the brawling noblemen. Reaching out with her mind she delivers a blow to Gryphus's mind meant to stun him. Since she does nothing physically to suggest she's the source of the attack, she sees no reason to believe it will result in any animosity once things get sorted.
Photinè shares a genuine smile with Malphene, feeling for a brief moment that everything will be alright.
At the commotion ahead, she hurries forward. Not wanting to confuse the situation further, she lets Chana and Amandine deal with Gryphus, and attempts to gently hold Lady Urbaen back to prevent her from injuring herself.
In classic Greenly fashion, the gawky lanky woman inserts herself and picks up the dazed Sir Gryphus where Olivia and Chana could not.
Photinè gently restrains Lady Urbaen, but Sir Gryphus throws off Olivia's grasp. However, Amandine's spell leaves him more pliant, and Greenly is able to pull him off of Zubari.
The door is trapped with a spell that has degraded with time. Chana assesses the remnants of the original enchantment and determines that it once deceived trespassers into believing they were trapped in an endless hallway. In its current, degraded state, though, the spell trap does nothing more than unleash a wave of confusion upon those nearby. This would explain the spate of bewildering behavior you discovered, aside from Zubari and Gulbend, who both seemed to have resisted the spell's hold.
Furthermore, Chana determines that the spell trap, in its weakened state, should not be very difficult to disarm.
Not having a sense for magical traps, Chana looks hopefully at Photine and Amandine. They seemed by far the most learned members of the group. "Well, I can tell its a sort of magical trap on the door, but that's about it. In the stories, you just have to scuff out a rune or something, right?"
"Difficult to say what it will take Chana. I'll see what I can do."
Amandine approaches the door with some trepidation. She's not sure whether she'll be affected as the others were or not. She attempts to shield her mind from invasion by magical energy.
After looking the door over, she takes out her set of tools and tries to disable the spell-trap.