Retcon to reply to this post
Steave nods toward Yridhrenor and replies, "Aye, I know your uncle Cwmbhien. I owe him and his crew my new life. If you're half the elf he is, you will make a great Riftwarden."
"After we collect the dragon scales, it's probably time to head out. We can't go up, and we have two ways to go down here. I suggest we stick together. Unless we have someone who wants to scout ahead of us, I can take point. Also, does anyone have a clue what's under Kenabres?" Steave offers.
He looks from Saito to Galin to Theran, "Maybe one of you strong arms wants to become our rearguard? We'll put the rest between us?"
** spoiler omitted **
"After we collect the dragon scales, it's probably time to head out. We can't go up, and we have two ways to go down here. I suggest we stick together. Unless we have someone who wants to scout ahead of us, I can take point. Also, does anyone have a clue what's under Kenabres?" Steave offers.
He looks from Saito to Galin to Theran, "Maybe one of you strong arms wants to become our rearguard? We'll put the rest between us?"
Yridhrennor pulls out a book from his pockets and begins furiously reading.
Steave nods toward Yridhrenor and replies, "Aye, I know your uncle Cwmbhien. I owe him and his crew my new life. If you're half the elf he is, you will make a great Riftwarden."
Yridhrennor stumbles on air and his book goes flying. He scrabbles at the leather-bound tome to keep it form hitting the ground and only just manages to right himself in time to spare the book from the dust. "I... I'm nothing special. Not really. He's far beyond me. He helped you... I..." Realization dawns in eyes. "You're the man in the room! I saw you.. a few times, when they were ... I..." He gulps and looks back at his book, frantically trying to go back to his studies. "You're a true hero. I've read about you... But, i didn't realize that you were... not then. My Uncle did, though. He knew you from the start. He said he'd met you... before... He's the great one, I'll achieve what he has."
Steave smiles at the young elf, "Your uncle was inexperienced once too, you know. And, he's not down here. You are. Now, it's your turn."
Steave carefully stows the silver dragon scale in one of his sturdy leather pockets on his belt.
The earth has closed in above the cavern. Theran doesn't see a way to climb back up, unless the party had the equipment to dig through the roof.
Listening more closely now that he had eyes, of a sort, Teofil started at Steave's words.
"Sir...did you say that you were of the First Crusade?"
"Nonsense," Horgus said. "You'd have to be an elf. I bear none of you anything but gratitude, and intend to reward you richly when we see the sun again, but if you're an elf then I'm a kobold."
Yridhrennor knows people can be tainted by abyssal energies and many of them do turn to evil, but the consensus among his authorities is that if they were half as active as people imagine then the Inquisition would have taken the lot of them long ago.
Steave smiles at the young elf, "Your uncle was inexperienced once too, you know. And, he's not down here. You are. Now, it's your turn."
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Yridhrennor smiles and blushes. Steave is everything Cwmbhien said he would be. He's kind, and generous, and a true leader, he... No! He needs to focus, not get lost mooning over things that could never be.
"Thank you. I... hope to live up to your expectations, one day."
Listening more closely now that he had eyes, of a sort, Teofil started at Steave's words. "Sir...did you say that you were of the First Crusade?"
"Yes, yes I did. But that's ancient history. Now, I'm just a one of you." Steave replies to Teofil ignoring Horgus. He readies his shield and surveys the readiness of the group.
Then to Yridhrennor, he replies, "Do better than my expectations. Live up to your own expectations."
"Yes, yes I did. But that's ancient history. Now, I'm just a one of you." Steave replies to Teofil ignoring Horgus. He readies his shield and surveys the readiness of the group.Then to Yridhrennor, he replies, "Do better than my expectations. Live up to your own expectations."
"Um... OK? Um. Not to alarm you, but we may not be entirely alone down here. There are legends--not very reputable, mind you, I don't really consider Raus Balimahu an authority on anything, his theories on...." Yridhrennor blushes and ducks his head behind his book. "Sorry. Um. Yes, well, he does mention things that are agreed upon by other authorities. He has collected stories about the Tainted Ones. Most people consider them to be little more children's tales to explain soured milk or a misplaced hammer. He claims that these Tainted Ones are actually survivors of the First Crusade who withdrew to the caverns beneath Kenabres to hide their ugliness from the world." He closes his book and slips it back into his pocket, along with the scale.
"Now, it is true that demonic energies can twist and pervert the mortal form, and that these corruptions often can breed true. At least, in the sense that their offspring will also be corrupted. If these people are alive down here... they are not very pleasant people. The legends, if they're to be believed, claim that they abduct people from the surface and eat them."
"I'll take rearguard. Most people can't keep up with the Clan even without weighing themselves down with such armor." There's a hint of a smile. Just enough to know that this is good-natured teasing.
He steps over to Abelard. "Terendelev was the dragon? I think... *ahem* " He looks away down to the ground, unable to face him, "she fell to the demon"
Galin glancing around with a wariness that belied his relaxed appearance, walked over to examine the scales that Steave and Yridhrennor found. These are things to be treasured, and in honor of the great guardian of Kenabres we ought to find as many of them as we can. Even if Terendelev is gone, her memory will live on in us, and other survivors of this disaster. Presuming, of course, that anyone makes it out of this mess.
With that, he will briefly search the area for more silver scales.
Yridhrennor nods his ascent and helps in the search
Abelard's knuckles are clenched absolutely white around the hilt of his falchion, but he doesn't betray any other hint of emotion at Theran's statement.
After a brief silence, he says only: "Shame. She made a damn fine piece o' toffee." Abelard isn't into mourning those who fall in the fight against evil; he is however very big on avenging them.
"So, Saito, your plan for takin' out demons and working your way to the top - sounds good, count me in. Don't suppose you left anything of the two you just faced? I've a powerful urge to smite something..."
"So, Saito, your plan for takin' out demons and working your way to the top - sounds good, count me in. Don't suppose you left anything of the two you just faced? I've a powerful urge to smite something..."
Still staying by the woman's side to support her though she a crutch as well now Saito replies; "Sorry, they popped like noxious balloons but I expect we may meet more opposition before we get out of here, don't worry."
If Theran spies a glint of silver, he'll pick one up for Abelard. ...assuming it doesn't skitter too far away from his grasp.
The remaining scales proved easy enough to find, though Theran had to chase one for a pace or so before taking it up.
The remaining scales:
Disguise: Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast alter self. While disguised, the target gains a +4 bonus on all Bluff checks made against evil creatures.
Freedom: Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast remove paralysis. The targets receive an additional +1 sacred bonus on saves versus paralysis and effects which cause the staggered condition for three rounds.
Martyrdom: Three times per day as an immediate action, the scale can be used to cast martyr's bargain. Unlike the other scales, this one need not be held in hand to call on its powers. It must, however, be in direct contact with the bearer's skin to be used.
Sacred Weaponry: Three times per day as a standard action, the scale can be used to cast align weapon, but only to make a weapon lawful or good. Unlike a normal align weapon spell, this effect can be cast on an unarmed strike or natural weapon.
The crusaders, scales in hand, form up and make their way out of the cavern. The tunnels beneath Kenabres do no favors to Anevia, who often has to take an extra moment or two to navigate snags, move around loose rocks, or step over broad cracks. Despite Falfaeren's best efforts, Teofil often stumbles and twice goes sprawling on the ground.
But they seem to make progress all the same. The undulating floor tilts upward more often than it descends. After a quarter of an hour, the crusaders come to a section of tunnel partly collapsed, stone and gravel pressing them hard against the surviving wall as they go. Coming out the far end of the close fit, after much grumbling from Horgus and many brief hisses of pain from Anevia, the crusaders see a flickering green flame dancing ahead of them.
Steave holds a clenched fist in the air to signal the group to stop. Without anyone trained to sneak in the group, he quietly asks the non-combatants to wait here while the combatants slowly sneak forward. He carries his longsword and shield in hands and leads the party forward.
At hearing Steave's attempt to sneak he shudders. While he's not a sniveling thief, Theran is at least quicker and not burdened with so much armor. He'll move forward with his hammer ready.
"I'll stay behind and defend the helpless in case a threat emerges here." Saito whispers, drawing his blade and staying with the injured.
Yridhrennor sighs and follows along.
Galin walks casually along, his feet making little noise upon the ground, at least compared to his companions. Just to be careful, he draws his blade, keeping it low and at his side.
Theran overtook the others in short order, soon coming close enough to see that the green flickering came from a backpack, like any crusader might have, hanging in midair. Green flames surrounded it like an incendiary soap bubble, occasionally forming leering, demonic faces as they flowed about.
Aside from the backpack, the tunnel appeared empty.
When the others arrived, they saw the same.
Yridhrennor stops just below the backpack and stares up at the leering demonic flaces in the flames. ["Réaltaí thuas, a thabhairt dom radharc thar radharc" Yridhrennor's eyes glow a brilliant blue as he examines the bag with eldtrich sight.
"I wonder what that's all about?" He pulls out another book and begins riffling through its pages.
The backpack may be suspended within either from the pure chaotic nature of the Abyss or because it holds something antithetical to abyssal energies and the two forces repel one another.
"Those flames are definitely demonic in origin... The energy is fueled by the Abyss itself."[b]. Yridhrennor thumbs through a few more games in his book. [b]"Ah! Yes! The bag might be floating because anything within the bag is battling the dark energies of the Abyss. I can attempt to retrieve it, if I have something long enough to grab it'd rom the planar seepage. That's what's allowing the energies to flow out of the Abyss."
Steave arches an eyebrow at Theran passing him making even more noise. He was quietly relieved that they did not find another demon. Although, the floating backpack clearly indicates that something bad had happened to Kenabres. Maybe the WorldWound had come.
"Yridhrennor, do you need to grab it? Can we just push the backpack out of the bubble? Maybe Theran can use his hammer, so we don't slash or pierce it."
Theran will set his hammer down. Pulling out his spear, he flips it around to use the butt end to push at the backpack.
Theran will set his hammer down. Pulling out his spear, he flips it around to use the butt end to push at the backpack.
Theran pushes the backpack against the flames. He feels resistance, but nothing he can't handle. The backpack pushes against the flames and they bow outward stretching for a moment before finally parting and vanishing to the sound of millions of tiny, skittering things coming from all around.
Masterwork backpack Not actually contents, but it's still loot.
10 days' trail rations
flint & steel
1 set caltrops
2 flasks oil
12 arrows
4 potions
And a silver holy gauntlet and briars token of Arqueros that looks to have been through a fire, half-melted and blackened.
Galin stoops and picks up the token of Arqueros, concentrating on it with his head bowed as if in prayer. Lord Arqueros, if your symbol has any significance or message, please pass it on to me.
Theran will set his hammer down. Pulling out his spear, he flips it around to use the butt end to push at the backpack.
Theran pushes the backpack against the flames. He feels resistance, but nothing he can't handle. The backpack pushes against the flames and they bow outward stretching for a moment before finally parting and vanishing to the sound of millions of tiny, skittering things coming from all around.
** spoiler omitted **
"Réaltaí thuas, a thabhairt dom radharc thar radharc" Yridhrennor's eyes take on that same faint blue as before, and he intently stares at the gauntlet. "Remarkable!" He doesn't touch the gauntlet, instead he moves it about using one of his crossbow bolts. Once he's satisfied he's observed it enough, Yridhrennor opens up one of his many books and begins reading.
"Does anyone not have a backpack. I can shoulder a second one if necessary. After you magic-users are done, we can move out."
To kill time while waiting, Steave searches the area for clues about the backpack's former owner.
"Does anyone not have a backpack. I can shoulder a second one if necessary. After you magic-users are done, we can move out."
To kill time while waiting, Steave searches the area for clues about the backpack's former owner.
[dice=Perception]1d20+4
Steave finds a few bits of leather, burned along the edges, and an empty boot, but nothing further. The boot looks large enough for a half-orc.
The crusaders, new spoils in hand, pressed forward. For more than an hour they moved along beneath Kenabres until. The tunnel wound about and finally bent sharp upwards, almost too steep to climb. Anevia and Teofil struggled mightily, but Horgus made the most noise.
Half an hour more brought them to a cavern seventy feet across. Columns of rock, many cracked, reached up along the walls. Spiderweb fissures spread across the floor. In the cavern's center, the broken stub of a stone tower rose up. The remains of the rest lay sprawled about, with two misshapen figures bent over the debris, speaking quietly amongst themselves and oblivious to the crusaders' arrival.
The Clan will move into position to charge, waiting for the others or for the wretches to notice us.
The Clan will move into position to charge, waiting for the others or for the wretches to notice us.
The misshapen creatures are roughly the side of adult humans, rather larger than the demons slain before.
Yridhrennor looks at them from behind a rock, using a book for reference as he tries to identify the creatures.
Steave steadily moves forward and detects if there is any Evil in the area. He quietly draws his cold iron longsword to prepare to smite some more demons.
Sensing potential trouble by the way his companions are acting, Abelard draws his falchion and moves up just behind Steave, ready to support him.
Galin steps forward, drawing his blade and standing beside Abelard.
Steave steadily moves forward and detects if there is any Evil in the area. He quietly draws his cold iron longsword to prepare to smite some more demons.
Steave detects no evil. As he draws nearer, he sees that the figures are bent over and trying to dig something from the debris.
Saito keeps an eye out as he hovers over the wounded, looking for threats.
Saito keeps an eye out as he hovers over the wounded, looking for threats.
[dice=Perception] 1d20+1
Saito sees trickles of dust rain down from the ceiling, but nothing that appears immediately dangerous.
Casting a protective spell on himself once again, Saito approaches the twisted creatures and calls out, leaving his sword sheathed across his back.
"You guys wouldn't happen to know how to get to the surface from here." He asks in his native Taldane.
As Saito moves forward and speaks, Yridhrennor grabs his arm and leans in to whisper in his ear. "These are mongrelfolk... I think they may be the Tainted Ones they talk about on the streets. They're not generally evil... At least, the books don't agree on that, and that usually means any evil actions are the exception, not the rule. Still, the books agree that these are people who have been warped by powerful magic. If the stories are true, then these people have been tainted by the Abyss. It would be best to proceed with caution."
"Alright, well if they are violent then you're about to see something kinda funny as I get my head torn off." Saito replies with a shrug. "But I don't think our injured are doing very well, if these things know a quick way to the surface it behooves us to ask."
Saito then continues on, and, if the mutants don't react, walks right up to them before repeating his inquiry, his weapon undrawn.
The mongrelfolk leaped up in alarm on hearing Saito's voice. When wheeled, saw him and the others, and took several hasty steps backward, scrabbling on the debris. One, a woman, was bent even when standing erect and had a face lost in a mass of tumors. The other, a tall man, looked equal parts goat, lizard, and elf.
After a moment, the man spoke oddly accented Taldane.
"If you hold darkness in your heart, strangers, go on and leave us in peace. We shall return the courtesy. If your hearts are pure, then we beg your help. Our companion Crel is trapped beneath this rubble. We are to our misfortune not able to move enough to free him."
He had a slender blade at his waist, but did not reach for it.
The woman made a groaning, slobbery sound that might have been a word.
"Depends on what you think of as pure." Saito muses, then; "I'll try my best to help."
Saito tries to move some rubble.