Scram cursed himself for the second time, his poor trusty crowbar lay lost in some bee infested dreamscape...a would-be perfect ingredient to this latest sabotage. He padded his pockets...much lighter than usual...but...
Opal.
One of the wizard's stones...easily scratched but with a durability well beyond diamond, it was the perfect jam. Scram deftly set the gemstone into its new bezel of clockwork...and...
Scramsax jams a semiprecious stone into the grinding gears causing the entire mechanism to lurch to a sudden stop. The gears continue to strain and try to turn but for the moment the stone seems to hold.
By the light of his torch the halfling gets a better look at the deep ledge on this side of the cliff. A set of metal rails run from where he stands about fifty paces back into the wide open area to the east where another platform sits next to an oversized dumbwaiter that runs up to the surface. The walls of the cavern are lined with several crates and barrels. Most are marked with the names of various ships or northern nations.
As the halfling finishes his initial quick search, Trevor, Ibrox and Vrindel arrive safely on the other side where they are able to look back and see Aterro's spear glowing softly in the dark. It's blue light a small beacon and across from Scramsax's yellow torch.
"Look at the labels of the crates: Charlotte's Destiny, The Scampering Kobold, Mikhail's Folly, Golden Reaper, The Wayfarer. Those names are among those wrecks mentioned by the old timers spinning their tales in the village." The gnome whispers with a hiss.
"That's crazy! But what would a hag do with all of this!? Where does it all go?"
"What do you think is coming- trying to come up? Goblins?"
Scram was peeing off the side of the chasm. "Huh? I dunno..."
Perception
"Look. Somethings on it's way up the ropes. See how they sway and lurch".
The big Trollkin points out the movement of the ropes to the others.
"Prepare yourselves".
The halfling was shocked over news of the ascendant and cut his relief short "Hang on...I got an idea..." rushing over to the rope and slowly dumping a flask of oil onto it, letting it run down into the dark...
With everyone safely on the other side of the cavern, Aterro begins his own circuit of the ledge. Making his way around the cleric has a fine view of the halfling relieving himself over the cliff edge. But then things become more puzzling after Vrindel says something that causes Scramsax quickly cease his business. He then climbs onto the lift mechanism and pours something onto the rope before scrambling away. The others all appear to be looking down into the dark.
"Aterro, hurry here. Death itself seems to be climbing its way up..." says Trevor as he unslings his shield and readies his axe.
The gnome looks over the edge and gulps. "Ibrox," he says in a stern voice allowing the ritualed Detect Magic to fade and starting the concentrate on Hexing his ability to climb.
Then, another "Ibrox," for good measure to send an Eldritch Blast toward the threat.
And then, he pulls back from the edge and moves around and through his companions to try to get behind someone who is good in melee.
"As far as we know, it's the only way down. So let's not. But can't priest just talk them to real death?"
Vrindel stands ready... quarterstaff in hand for the decision of his comrades assuming it will result in absolute chaos.
The light from the halfling's torch winks out as Scramsax douses it in a soft sandy area near the wall of the cavern. The soft blue glow of Aterro's staff along the southern ledge is the only remaining light in the mostly dark open cavern. That and the crimson stare of the undead creature making its way up the rope. The two points of red never really wavering or turning away from the living bodies only a short distance away.
Scram dropped a sling bullet into his hand, rubbing its surface for luck as he hid behind the barrels...
The gnome cowered behind Vrindel in the corner of the cave waiting for the undead to arrive. He concentrated on his Hex and readied another Eldritch Blast for when the creature arrived above the lip of the hole.
1d1
The first blast of eldritch power from Ibrox strikes the undead causing it to jerk wildly as it recovers while hanging from the rope. Ready for the second attack creature manages to barely slip aside at the last moment as the eldritch ball of force disappears into the depth's of the pit.
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Aterro attains solid footing as the attacks from the diminutive warlock finally pinpoint the threat.
"Methinks this horrid foe relies too greatly on the dark as its ally.
Let us take away his greatest strength."
Aterro summons a Guiding Blast and launches a missile of pure light at the terrible thing!
._.
Aterro reaches the safety of the wider chamber and then unleashes a blast of holy light upon the climbing undead.
The creatures lets out a pained howl that echoes loudly through the cavern and pit as the light sears and burns away huge portions of its undead flesh. Yet it still climbs on.
Climbs up until it reaches the slippery section of rope coated with Scramsax's oil. It loses its grip on the slippery surface and immediate begins to slide back and fall. For a moment it looks as if the fight will be over before it even starts, but the creature manages to prevent a long fall into the pit by making a successful twisting, shoulder dislocating grab at the rope. With a grunt, it holds fast, having fallen back down so it is still twenty five feet from the ledge.
The gnome continued to cower behind Vrindel. He should not consider an undead creature as a fish, nor the hole a barrel, but... there are some similarities.
He concentrated on his Hex and lined up another Eldritch Blast at the creature for an "Ibrox" in a stern voice.
"Wait! Let it come up before we destroy it. It has another part of the key around it's neck... and I for one don't know about descending to retrieve it".
Turn into a black bear, prepared to grapple.
Trevor nods at Vrindel's words and steps back: "The key! Let's all move back then and allow the creature to step forth!"
Ibrox fires another blast into the creature knocking it around as it dangles on the rope. Hands still slippery from the oil and slowed by the gnomish curse suddenly lose their grip on the rope. The creatures eyes grow wide as it makes one last desperate attempt to reach the more stable and secure ledge.
It leaps with all the strength it can muster. Unfortunately already slipping off of the swinging rope that happened to be swinging in the wrong direction, it mostly just hangs there momentarily in the air. Arms outstretched toward the rocky cliff still several feet away. Crimson eyes turn up with one last hateful look as the rest of you look down with your readied weapons and defenses. Then a howl that echoes for several seconds deeper and deeper and deeper it disappears back into the darkness of the pit until finally the anguished howl abruptly ends.
"That didn't work as expected..." summarizes Trevor, giving Ibrox a questioning look.
"I guess we're going down. May as well use that, thing."
"I jammed the gears." the rogue explains "We'll need to strike the stone free to get it moving again...but carefully, precisely." indicating the gem.
The gnome exhales with a great sigh of relief. "Meh. The halfling would've wanted to go down the hole anyway to find treasure."
"Let's go." He looks to the halfling to get on with it.
Pleading with the others "He's right, its so rare I find treasure up any holes that down has become my default. But careful you aren't too superstitious about halfling luck...or well find no treasure at all! Now come on, give this huge rod a whack for me..."
He aligned his pole on the jam-stone from the side like a chisel, waiting for the right strike.
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Aterro gazes over the precipice as the terrible thing struggles in its losing fight to come and kill them. He is mostly unfeeling, it is another kill, another notch of glory for Thor in his untiring struggle.
He looks on with a small measure of pride as it falls in the dying light of his radiant spell.
Suddenly recognition strikes the armored saint like a blow from his own hammer.
The eternal fire for battle in Aterro grows dim for a moment, and all can feel more than see the skin of the WarCleric turn white and cold.
"Oh no..." is all he says, eyes wide
with fear.
"Oh, now I remember what that was. That was a ghoul, and more than that it was a Darakhul Ghoul. One of the many denizens of the great underground empire and the ally of Morgau that erupted out of the depths to help invade and overrun Krakova. I guess they've expanded." The gnome looks confident about going down the hole now.
INT Check
Vrindel-Bear growls deeply in anger... or something, as his target plummets to the ground. He then looks at the others, and begins to climb down the shaft.
Before he starts to climb down, he paws at whatever light source is active. Sense Motive?
Trevor pauses when he learns about the ghoul and its provenance. Then he says: "Let's make sure it's destroyed and that there are not others like it down there, and find that key!"
And he helps Scramsax dislodge that precious pebble: "Just tell me where to hit, how to hit, and what to hit with."
Speaking bear, the cheerful gnome growls, ::Vrindel, do you need a light source? We’ll try to drop a torch.::. He creates an illusion of a torch hovering above him.
”I think Vrindel-bear needs a torch dropped down the hole. My magic can’t go that far from me.”
At Trevor "Alright its simple, Chops. Just like hammering a nail. Yer gonna strike this here pole with that there hammer. Just one solid tap to dislodge the stone over there. Ok?" Scram was kneeling at the gears keeping the pole aligned with the jamming stone, just waiting.
If there's one thing that gets Trevor focused, is mentioning Krakova and undead.
"Like that?" he says as he cleanly knocks the rock out.
"..." the halfling was speechless for once. He had expected the young knight to misinterpret his words and simply jump full force straight into the chasm. Instead, the gears looked like they would quickly spin back to life as the wizard's opal ricocheted about the barrels.
He managed an 'a-ok' symbol with his fingers as he picked himself up off the floor.
With the grace and gentleness of a master jeweler, Trevor taps the opal free of the gears and they jump back to life. After a few minutes, a wooden platform reaches the ledge. A set of metal rails are attached to the platform and match perfectly with those on the ledge. Sitting on the rails is a single wheeled pallet loaded with three empty casks, very similar to the one you saw the giant bees carry into the stable.
"Oh right. Torch." he lights the snuffed one back into flame then with a flick of the wrist chucks it over the edge.
To Aterro "Can I have one of those magic lights maybe? Could keep it on a slingstone in my pocket, that way I could cover it when I need to be stay hidden..."
Vrindel bear looks at the freshly arrived platform and sits back on his haunches for a moment. He then moves to slide the barrel off the platform and onto the matching rails so that there will be room for his wide, hairy butt onboard.
Vrindel-bear easily pushes the empty barrels on thier carriage off the platform and onto the aligned rails. Where they drift to a stop after a few paces.
The lift mechanism is simple enough and within a few minutes Scramsax and Ibrox have the controls figured out.
"I could climb down...might be wise to set up a backup line anyways...if I could get that light I mentioned." looking at Aterro.
The torch drifts down, down, down, and further down into the depths. The flickering flame growing smaller and smaller until it becomes a mere star like point in the deep pit of black.
"*gulp* or not...probably not enough rope...ehehe." then it dawns on him "Oh, we can take turns, right? Can send some down now, then lift it back up...and lower it down with the rest of us? Right?"
"That's deep... Really deep..." reflects Trevor. Then he adds: "I'll go with Vrindel."
"Meh...we can all fit -- scoot over, Red." Scram sets the controls for a gentle descent and packs himself in.