"Tripped over some short shit n' gotta toothpick in the leg," the Keg grumbles as he wraps some bandages around the wound after he drags some crates over to the door.
"We dinna need to go in there ... I dinna know what it is, but I dinna like it."
"Purple rabbit ooze isn't something I need to see. If it looks like it's stuck in there, let's keep going." Mikos returns to the open room to have a better look.
You can hear the thing babbling from beyond the closed door. It does not try to escape, but its maddening voices tug at the ends of your reasoning. It clears quickly the further away you get.
The room with the three matching doors leads into a mess hall. Each door is carved with the images of lordly feasts, although a hooded gray figure appears in each image, silently watching. The mess hall’s north and south walls are fitted with shelves containing mismatched goblets, platters, and bowls. A number are made of fine porcelain emblazoned with crests of noble families. A raised table with three lavish chairs stands at the east end.
The northern doors lead into a kitchen. A large hearth takes up most of the south wall, and there’s a basin for washing up against the west wall. Dry goods, provisions, and cooking gear clutter the space. It does not appear to have been used in several hours.
Along the western side of the corridor, an alcove at the southern end ends at a locked door.
A little farther north, another door opens to a large barracks, as suggested by the double bunks and footlockers in the alcoves. The walls are decorated with simple paintings and murals, which include sketches of building, temple, and ruin layouts with notations suggesting how to get past obstacles and traps. Two small privy chambers stand against the southern wall. A short stairwell leads down to a door set into the northern wall.
The corridor turns right at the northern end. There are doorways on the north and east end, both locked, as well as a double door constructed of thick wood and heavy iron bands.
"I think the Sprinters retreated past the barracks, but I am curious about that door. We never checked the guard for keys, did we? How about we start there?" Mikos backtracks to the dead man in the hall and checks him for anything useful.
The dead Splinter has no keys. He has leather armor, shortsword and crossbow, no coins.
Mikos shrugs. "I guess it's going to be the hard way."
"Eh, at least try the group of keys we do have. Prolly wont work, but we might feel stupid if one did. We kinna also try the door inna barracks or th' one by the Spire before we start breaking doors open."
The Keg is not excited about the pincushion experience he went through last time he tried to break down a door.
"You want to try the barracks door Rodi or should we just start with the wrecking bar?"
Mikos suddenly realizes that the door in the barracks is not locked. "I don't know if the purple rabbit babbler alerted the Sphincters, but I'd rather delay on the dwarven lock picks. I still have the scar to show how well that works." The fighter scratches the puckered wound on his throat and then opens the door in the barracks.
Rodi sets to work cobbling together a working set of picks.
The Keg stays tight on Mikos' flank with his dented shield raised.
Mikos opens the door. Beyond is another guard room, this one at the lower end of the Emerald Spire hall. The south wall is fitted with arrow slits, like the similar room farther to the south, and a barred door is in the center of that wall.
To your right is a stack of crates, barrels and sundry items. A heavy double door in the northeast corner provides the only other exit.
Mikos peers around suspiciously. "At least I don't quite feel like I'm being herded yet." He removes the bar from the exit door and checks if the double doors are locked.
A statue of a woman with a water urn stands in the hallway.
*
The double doors are not locked. They are very similar to the pair in the corridor further to the east.
"Hey, Rodi. We don't have time for your whittling. I'll buy you some new picks once we get back to town. Everybody ready?" Mikos opens the doors.
"Whittling?!?" Rodi holds up a pair of twisted metal things. "You don't whittle metal. You... you know that, right Mikos?" Rodi looks at the dwarves and rolls their eyes, offering their sympathy.
Mikos just shakes his head at the proffered crafting wisdom of his assorted stubby companions. "Are we ready now?" he rasps and opens the doors.
The Keg, who has been rifling through the crates and barrels, grunts his assent and takes his shield and rapier heading to the door.
Mikos shoves open the double doors. Beyond is a large natural cave, running roughly east to west. It is dimly lit by small oil lamps. The Keg and Ben recognize the marks of excavation, widening the original cavern. Masonry walls enclose structures within the cave, including what looks like a temple to the north and a crypt to the west. At the eastern end, a low stone wall encloses a large pool of water.
There are lights and faint voices coming from the doors to the temple.
A low tunnel exits the northern end of the excavated cavern, heading off into darkness. A cool breeze faintly stirs in its entrance.
Mikos raises his eyebrows. He wasn't really sure what he expected beyond the doors, but it wasn't this. He points at Rodi and then points to his own ear and at the double doors that seem to be a temple. "Anyone you recognize?" he whispers to Keg as he tries to determine whose temple it might be.
Rodi nods and moves up to listen at the doors.
There are no obvious markings on the temple structure to determine its dedicated faith, if any.
Rodi moves up and listens. They hear voices beyond speaking in Taldane...
You hear a woman's voice speaking. "We will stay. This is our home. Hastenfar will return in a day or two. With his numbers, we can refortify Splinterden."
A man responds, clearly agitated. "But those thrice-damned vigilantes are sure to return, and soon. They killed half our number, already. Klarkosh will not be pleased when we fail to bring him tribute!"
The woman sighs, "Yes, Jaris. Remember that Blackfingers is our master, not the Numerian wizard. The Splinters will survive, as we always have done. Perhaps the adventurers will consider a truce, if we can offer them something they want..."
Mikos waits to see what Rodi finds out.
Rodi slips back and whispers the conversation they overheard to the others.
Mikos beckons the others back into the room to discuss. "Good to know that their numbers are depleted. Reinforcements are coming though. Do they have anything we need? Do you think that we can trust them in a truce?"
Rodi shrugs and nods to Ben. "Ben's got a point. Dead people don't break truces. Unless they're raised. Or become undead. Or... yeah we should probably cut them up into tiny pieces once they're dead."
Mikos chuckles. "Dead people generally don't join truces either. So it sounds like you're saying no."
"Besides, they'll just wait until they have numbers and betray us anyway. If we wipe them out or run them off, no need to worry about betrayal."
Mikos absently rubs the puckered scar on his throat. "They don't seem all that loyal to Klarkosh. They may be able to give us some more information about him. I agree that I'm leaning toward just getting rid of them though."
"They're talking about necromancers ... if they're in league with those slavers, they forfeited their right to this life." The Keg growls ferociously, weighing his weapon in his hand.
Mikos knows that Blackfingers is a nickname for Norgorber.
"I think Klarkosh is more technomancer than necromancer, but hey, if they're worship Norgorber, thieves are the best they could be and it's all downhill from there. Shall we crash their little get together?"
Mikos rolls his shoulders and does a few quick limbering exercises before gripping his blade in both hands and getting ready to charge in.
The Keg moves up alongside Mikos and casts magic weapon on the man's falchion.
After the Keg casts his blessing, Mikos throws open the door. Inside is a small shrine with rows of pews and a stone altar on a low dais. A large statue of a mysterious, hooded figure stands solemn vigil at the east end. Paintings on the walls depict a gray hooded man in a variety of exploits and triumphs, culminating in his ascension to godhood, when he begins aiding lesser thieves.
Standing behind the altar is a middle-aged woman with long dark hair. She wears chainmail underneath fine leathers and a dark cloak. Sitting in the pews are two other Splinter scouts, one that you recognize from the first battle at the gates. The fourth occupant is the alchemist, Jaris.
They all look to the door, eyes widening...
"Should have left when you had the chance," Mikos rasps. 'I'm going to enjoy this." He heads straight for the alchemist and snicker-snacks.