Trevor looks at Vrindel transform and shakes his head: "That just makes no sense..."
It takes a moment, but Zove is able to slip the ring from the fallen peasant's finger while Vrindel scurries along the wall and up the steps.
The ruins of the main hall sit fifty feet beyond the outer wall. The roof over the second story of the keep has collapsed along with much of the north and east walls. The main entry sits open with no door. You can just make out a thin wisp of smoke drifting from the entryway, signaling some kind of fire burning within the ruined structure.
You hear the whiny of a horse from somewhere behind the ruined keep to the northwest.
Trevor, despite himself, is curious enough to approach and look at the ring over Zove's shoulder: "A peasant with a magic ring? Is it a peasant still?" he ponders, captivated by the ring's glow.
|
Aterro took pause long enough for the wizard to chase her lark with the commoner's ring--she had shown herself of stronger stuff during their warf battle, and so he allowed her a measure of respect that the others had not yet earned.
As she states that the item has no arcane qualities, his impatience to bring RIGHTEOUSNESS can o longer be held at bay.
"Then he died of either a misstep, or enemy action. Still we should be about it," he grunts, going up the stair, after the druid-troll-spider.
Vrindel moves along any heights available and tries to get a better idea of the layout of the place, and what challenges they might face before returning to the group.
Perception
About a third of the way up the stairway, Aterro encounters several loose stones, that tip and turn under his feet. His armored body tilts and starts to swing backward as he struggles to right himself and not end up like the peasant at the back below.
There doesn't appear to be any other sign of life or noise coming from either the tent or around the courtyard.
Vrindel keeps skittering around if possible. If not he'll return and report the layout to the others.
He then hears stones rattling from the staircase area, and decides to go around the perimeter the opposite way so he can check out what's happening.
That's either Aterro getting impatient and bludgeoning his way in, or Trevor doing... well whatever impulsive thing he can possibly do.
"Charging downstairs?" Ibrox replies to Zove while trying to stay out of Aterro's charge path.
"Perhaps he is fighting someone, or something?! He seems to have stopped fighting." replies Trevor, completely serious and not getting the joke. Cautiously, he starts forward, but stops as he notices Vrindel returning: "A horse you say?, That's strange, no? Is it the same type of horse from the village, or a nobler kind?" he asks. "Oh, and the tent? What of it? The necromancers had a very nice carriage. I'm sure he'd have a matching tent..."
Trevor dances nimbly out of the way as Aterro comes tumbling down the stairs. The cursing cleric slides to a stop at the feet of Zove and Ibrox. Who offer puzzled looks as they help Aterro back to his feet.
Taking Aterro's lesson to heart, everyone exercises a bit of caution for the remaining trip up the old stone stairs poking and prodding at stones to insure their stability. Although it takes a bit more time, everyone eventually reaches the summit of the hill and the ruins of Valdtor Keep without further harm.
The steps end at the base of what was once a defensive stone wall. But the wall has long since fallen to ruin with only a few foundation and other stones still in place. The narrow, arched gateway is a mere remnant of it's former defensive glory. The arch having collapsed along with much of the nearby wall. However, evidence of recent activity is all around, as stones are stacked and moved off to the side, creating an easy path into the bailey.
The ruins of the main hall sit fifty feet beyond the outer wall. The roof over the second story of the keep has collapsed along with much of the north and east walls. The main entry sits open with no door. You can just make out a thin wisp of smoke drifting from the entryway, signaling some kind of fire burning within the ruined structure.
The once tall grasses and vines of the courtyard have been cleared or stomped down over recent days and numerous boot prints and tracks show additional signs of habitation.
Moving past the keep and onto the southern wall you can see back down into the vale where you encountered the vine creature and the forest trail. In the courtyard, along the southern wall you see several mounds of piled dirt and a few shovels, picks, buckets scattered nearby. You also smell the unmistakable aroma of the midden and latrine. The usual odor of garbage and waste, also mingled with blood and rotting flesh.
Before you can investigate further, you hear the others reaching the top of the stairs.
Arriving at the ruins, Ibrox looks around for the horse and any animals to gather information.
After a quick devotional, "Ibrox." then he looks around the courtyard for clues.
|
|
With much cursing and grumbling, Brother Aterro slaps the copious dust from his armor and re-arranges his accouterments, ensuring everything is still combat-ready.
He goes and picks up WarGuard where it fell from his hands and re-assets his grips upon its handle.
Marching up the stairs a bit more leisurely this time, he gazes about at the scene that greats them at the top.
"Eh what? You've seen this before, Zove? How can that be? Beseems that few have seen this place, expect for but recently, where there seems to be some activity. Perhaps bandits, aye, encamping, or, more likely, more evil-doers in the employ of...whatever lays in wait.
Well, if any of you have words of insight or caution to speak, now is the time. That opening and wisps of smoke call to me as a lodestone, being the most likely signs of finding whatever it is we are to find here.
Speak now, or let us continue our advance."
"I want to have a look at that tent first, so stop before you free some kind of murdering vine, yes? Ok, so let's move with caution. I'm opening the tent." he warns, then has a look inside the tent.
Vrindel is a bit perturbed that the others did not wait for his full report, but quickly gets over it, and stifles a laugh at Aterro's expense.
He decides to stay in Spider form for now, and watch to see what happens, as he is undetected at the minute.
"Perhaps he is fighting someone, or something?! He seems to have stopped fighting." replies Trevor, completely serious and not getting the joke. Cautiously, he starts forward, but stops as he notices Vrindel returning: "A horse you say?, That's strange, no? Is it the same type of horse from the village, or a nobler kind?" he asks. "Oh, and the tent? What of it? The necromancers had a very nice carriage. I'm sure he'd have a matching tent..."
Trevor steps into the tent to find a sparse but comfortable space. A folding cot sits along one wall, covered in a set of thick blankets and fur. A heavy, dark rug covers most of the floor. A small table opposite the cot holds a small brassier, washbasin, a few writing implements. Next to the table is a small wooden chest with a large lock marked with red crown of Morgau. Another larger brassier stands just to the side of the door. Both brassieres appear have been used as a few tiny coals still smolder near the center of each stand.
The tent smells slightly musty from the recent rains, although the interior still appears to be dry and even snug.
Trevor steps into the tent to find a sparse but comfortable space. A folding cot sits along one wall, covered in a set of thick blankets and fur. A heavy, dark rug covers most of the floor. A small table opposite the cot holds a small brassier, washbasin, a few writing implements. Next to the table is a small wooden chest with a large lock marked with red crown of Morgau. Another larger brassier stands just to the side of the door. Both brassieres appear have been used as a few tiny coals still smolder near the center of each stand.
The tent smells slightly musty from the recent rains, although the interior still appears to be dry and even snug.
** spoiler omitted **
Trevor is too busy with what he found to help Zove or to notice anything else: "Look, I've found the necromancer's brassieres! Who would have thought! They even have a space to place coals in them. My guess is to stay warm, right?"
Then he places one of the brassiere on his head, giving him some kind of rounded horns with smoke coming out of them.
"What do you think?" he asks Zove, then, realizing, blushes violently to a shade between purple and ruby.
A horse snuffles and whinnies softly when Trevor and Zove begin rummaging around in the tent. The creature doesn't seem to be tethered or hobbled in any way as it slowly walks out from behind the tent, near the southwest wall, where it was feeding on some hay and grass. A fine looking creature. A dappled gray, Krakovian light warhorse.
After surveying the courtyard, the cheerful gnome wanders up to the horse.
Trevor keeps his eyes to the ground and to the chest, the one Zove was trying to open, and keeps his mouth shut, hoping Khors was busy and didn’t see that!
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
The locks clicks as Zove's improvised wire discovered through Trevor's escapades does the trick. As the tumblers fall into place the lid pops open and a loud gong echoes through the ruin causing the horse to start and a few loose bits of stone to tumble from the ruined wall. When Ibrox, Aterro and Vrindel look in the tent to see what happened, neither Zove or Trevor are present. The chest sits with the lid open.
From somewhere beyond the walls you here the startled whiny of a horse and the distant, echoing shouts of your companions.
Ducking its head in what must be an affirmative nod it continues, "I am indeed from Krakovia. I once even served the Storm Knights of the kings guard, but now I am forced to serve another. He is called Vinder."
He twists his head to look at the trail you and the others just came up. "Indeed I did. It was a challenge, but I am sure footed and the my rider wished me to do so, so I did."
Just then a loud gonging sound rings from the tent. Startling the horse and causing it to whiny loudly.
After pausing his conversation with his new friend he enters the tent. What have they done now? He wonders why searching for clues.
Oh, is that a brassier?
Trevor blinks at Zove and refuses, categorically refuses to believe her: "No, it can't be. Look, I've been in this place before... It's just... The old man is missing, but it's all right. Just a moment and we'll be back. We'll be back just fine."
|
|
"Are you done fiddling about and ready to--" Aterro starts then stops as he dips his head inside to see the tent with decidedly fewer party members than it should have.
"Zove! Trevor?" Ateror calls, stepping cautiously into the tent, WarGuard held at the ready.
"Eh, Ibrox? Does the horse know anything? To begin with, why is there some bloody horse inside a tent? And who does it belong to?"
Aterro tries to puzzle out the puzzle while helping Ibrox look for the answer to this riddle.
Vrindel had been exploring around the perimeter of the place, and was getting ready to start on the ruined second floor of the Keep when he heard the gong, and the excited whiny, and he knew the others had found trouble somehow. He was enjoying the freedom of movement offered by having eight legs, and decided to use that form to head towards where he last saw his party enter... the tent.
As he drew near still in spider form he heard Arterro call out looking for Zove and Trevor, and the worry and excitement in the rapidly rising voices.
Suddenly the others see Vrindel/Wolf Spider show up at the entrance to the tent, and take in the situation.
Ibrox, Aterro, and Vrindel all begin to explore the tent in an effort to discover what happened to their two companions. Minutes pass, but there is simply no trace of either Zove or Trevor. Just as real concern starts to set in, there is a sudden breeze of cold, musty, dank air inside the tent. At first it is unclear where the breeze comes. Then a rip appears in one of the canvas walls and you hear Trevor's voice calling back to Zove as a stone door slowly grinds open like a door to a tomb followed by the young knight himself. As he steps through, the door simply vanishes with a soft whoosh and pop.
Ibrox appreciates Aterro's help to look for Zove.
Ibrox and Aterro search the room, but find little to help with discovering what happened to Zove. Perhaps the newly returned Trevor might have some answers to that particular question. They do find, another small box tucked back under the cot, hidden behind some haphazardly folded clothes. The little metal case is about a hands width wide and deep, but only a couple of finger widths thick.
Trevor stumbles into the tent and looks to Aterro and Ibrox: "What happened? What are you two doing here? Wait! Where's Zove!? Zove!? Damn it, she's with the old man! And he's not there!" he says, grabbing the Gnome by the shoulder to explain the danger Zove is in.
The gnome hands the box to Attero to give Trevor his full attention. "Trevor, what are you talking about? What old man? Where's Zove?"
Trevor shakes the Gnome a little more vigorously to help make his point clear, clearly on the edge of mad panic: "The old man who plays chess! We just were in his sanctum. Me, and Zove! And I'm out; he always lets me out, but Zove is still there!"
Ibrox shakes like a rag doll in Trevor's ham hands. His hands reach for his redcap to hold it fast on his head. In a pause, the gnome cocks his head to one side trying to see around Trevor to Aterro. "Aterro, I think Trevor has lost it."
Then, he turns his little head, so he doesn't shout into Trevor's face, "VRINDEL! NEED YOUR HELP IN HERE!"
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
At first the pages seem innocuous enough. Just another somewhat dull section on the importance and danger of using ley line intersections to enhance both energy containment and draw while tapping into the elemental planes. You start to flip past it, but then your eyes are drawn to the spaces in between the boring writing by some old wizard named Vashrin Ingilbar. Although concentrating is difficult given the building pressure in your head from this place, you can just make out the feint letters of an older, smaller, much more elegant writing. The language is that same ancient elven dialect you've seen before during some of the recent episodes. Perhaps just as disturbing is that you recognize the writing as being quite similar to your mentors, although not as shaky and jumpy as your remember. It will take more study to fully read and understand, but you are able to get a general sense of what was written and that sense brings a dread to your heart.
The words begin by describing the interrogation and imprisonment of Teronidas Voidweaver, Archmage of the ancient city of Vael Turog. It talks of the infernal pacts made with the dwellers of the Eleven Hells in order to discover hidden and powerful magics forbidden by elven rulers of the ancient empire. It tells of Voidweaver's desire to seek revenge on the cities of Allain and Uxloon by creating a magical plague, it tells of amazing feats of power and cunning political manipulations. A lifetime of deeds and endeavors of a powerful and ultimately completely maniacal individual.
But most of all you can feel the power within the words, as if they are imbued with a magical power themselves. Reading them you feel a growing bond with the ancient wizard. You also see as the writer describes the events and responses during Voidweaver's imprisonment, how a sympathy, a reverence, for Voidweaver and all he has discovered develops. As the words continue, they become more and more enamored and worshipful toward the archmage. So does your own sympathy grow.
Finally near the end there is a paragraph that stands out. I cannot let Him perish completely. They have extracted all they can from his mind and will be coming to end it all soon. I have heard His thoughts in my mind. Speaking to me. Calling for help. Asking for salvation. I wish to serve, but do not know how. Unless, unless...perhaps there is a way. It will not be perfect, but it is all that is possible given the security and circumstances. I cannot preserve the body, but I can perhaps save the mind and soul. There is little time, but I will not let Him down, I must not!