The gnome shoulders his bloodied axe. "Victory!", he cries out, a little louder than necessary, before continuing down the path. "What were those things? Big rats? Something else?", the gnome asks his travelling companions. "And that was real magic, too!", he turns to Quresha with an awed smile. "I know card tricks and things like that, but that was... like my skin was steel!"
Grakkus and Amelius hand the people who had been leading the mules their reins again.
"Those were osquips," Grakkus mumbles. "They serve the omani. Where the osquips go, the omani can't be far behind. Now let us get going before we lose more time. The enemy is out there, even if we can't seem them now."
Quresha looks quite dejected as the rats turn to flee. Perhaps it was the cramped quarters, but her fighting skills seemed to have deserted her. She brightens up at Bizzle's compliment.
"Al-Akbar protects those who are worthy, I am simply a conduit for His power."
She turns to Allysen with an awed expression. "Your magic was quite strong as well!"
Is she worshiping a dark deity? Quresha wonders, but does not give voice to her thoughts.
"Please, just forget that you ever saw me use it," Allysen asks quietly when Quresha brings up the very thing she'd been hoping, probably vainly, would be overlooked.
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Isagoras exchanges a pleasant word with Grakkus and Amelius as they un-tangle the reins of the mules and get their tackle all sorted out.
As the party re-takes the road, Isagoras walks along next to Allysen. Whether he heard her comment to Shifa or is just choosing to ignore it is unclear.
"You know, I may have some ideas on how to more stably administer a practical effect.
You see, in Kelek's Divinatory Taxonomy, he recommends first forming the applied inscriptions before evoking the positive energy. However, in Rankev's High-Energy Conjuration, he states that drawing upon the arcane abjuration before crossing the infernal geomancy will lead to a more balanced application of...."
It's clear that Isagoras is going to keep lecturing on Magickal Theory unless more substantial stops him.
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Lord Belros looks quizzically at Allysen.
When he gets the opportunity, he quietly says to her in a not-unsympathetic tone:
"Allysen, I would know why you are so hesitant about others knowing of your magical abilities."
Ignoring Isagoras' ramblings about magical theory, Allysen instead addresses Lord Belros.
"It's just better if no one knows I can do it," she says, "safer too."
Once everyone has cleaned their weapons and gotten their other gear back together, you continue on your journey, the veteran miner Grakkus still in the lead.
You walk for what seems to be hours as the route seems to go deeper and deeper underground judging from the angle of the floor. The air becomes more moist as you descend, and eventually small rivulets of water can be seen running down the cave walls.
An hour or so later, the group enters an enormous cavern, its ceiling and far walls beyond your vision. The floor is covered in water of unknown depth and enormous mushrooms the size of small trees sprout from the wet cavern floor. The walls are covered in mushrooms, mold, and funghi of all shapes and colors as far as the eye can see. The path you have been following descends into the water and then disappears from view.
"This is different," mumbles Grakkus holding his lantern out to get a better view. "The last time I was here, the floor was wet, but it wasn't submerged. Something or someone must have changed the course of one of the nearby underground rivers. I am also unsure which way to proceed. Amelius, come here."
The younger dwarf hands off his mule to one of the other members of the caravan and joins Grakkus at the front, and the two begin to discuss your situation.
"Ah! The Omani. Of course.", the gnome adds, giving a glance at the osquips. "I didn't know that osquips were actually that massive!", he chuckles, cleaning his axe. As magic is brought up, the gnome's mouth twists in a smile, as he brings out a worn deck of cards and approaches the rest. "Ah! That's the magic I know...", he starts saying, and he overhears Isagoras' treatise on magic. I... what? His eyes widen to the point of becoming circles, and he sits down. "Are all of you... mages? Real ones, not just.", he raises his deck of cards with a degree of disappointment. "You know. Non-magical magicians."
As the conversation about applied magical theory continues, the gnome's attention flickers away, and he glances at the massive mushrooms the size of trees, mouth agape.
This much moisture was not something that Quresha was used to, and she keeps adjusting the straps of her armour as she feels that she cannot breathe properly. At first, she listens intently to Isagoras, but after a few moments her eyes glaze over and she starts taking backward glances, in case they were being pursued.
Lord Belros gives Allysen an appraising look.
"While subtlety has its place, I will offer two points. One, magical talent is less surprising for those with elven blood in their veins. Two, I will not tolerate companions who slide into evil acts. I will leave it there for now."
*************
"I for one have no magical talent, Bizzle. Though I have been gifted some power by the grace of Pelor."
*************
Lord Belros stares at the mushrooms, assessing their threat.
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"...of course when invoking The Tails Of Faroprar one must be cautious not to over-emphasize the Cabbalistic Writings, lest one summon forth a Great Old One just by accident!" Isagoras guffaws at his joke. Suddenly realizing that his lecture is not being met with the rapt attention he had envisioned, he pauses in his teachings and gazes at the lake before them.
"Hm. Yes. One of the Classic Twelve Tasks. Which were really fourteen, but we all know that.
Mayhap we could have yon Bizzle take his axe and slice the massive mushroom into a serviceable bridge? If he requires extra puissance, I can provide that."
"I don't know magic, either, Bizzle, altho I've often wondered where my throwing stars come from."
Brother Abraham spends the next few hours travelling constantly cleaning the head of his flail, as though something is still on it. He mumbles to himself, but keeps glancing into the shadows, moving the torch to keep things illuminated.
When they come to the lake, he extends the torch outwards, trying to see if the trail emerges on the other side of this area.
Notice
WD
Lord Belros gives Allysen an appraising look.
"While subtlety has its place, I will offer two points. One, magical talent is less surprising for those with elven blood in their veins. Two, I will not tolerate companions who slide into evil acts. I will leave it there for now."
Allysen bristles and levels a glare at Lord Belros.
"Do you threaten everyone who wishes to keep their secrets," she asks, her tone barbed with hints of anger far older than anything the elven priest could have done to her.
Sullen from her conversation with Lord Belros, Allysen doesn't join the speculation as she tries to discern a safe path across.
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"I don't know magic, either, Bizzle, altho I've often wondered where my throwing stars come from."
"That question is as elementary as it is fascinating," Isagoras says, fielding the question. "It is well known that we are living on what is called the Prime Material Plane. Most objects here, such as weapons or people, are magically neutral.
However, magic, as we know it, is energy drawn from one of the two other material planes. Blessings, or magicks that enhance the user, are come from the Positive Material Plane. When that material is induced to visit us through sorcerous means, it enhances and strengthens the target in specific ways, at it has beneficial effects when placed upon neutral materials.
But, the spells that cause damage, your stars, the effects of...others...that is drawn from the Negative Materiel Plane, and it has detrimental effects when it touches or otherwise encounters neutral objects.
Hence, magic itself is neither good nor evil, it simply is of its own nature, and the way that it is used determines such.
Indeed, the famous vampire Retzack The Black wrote his fascinating book On Immortality, and in it he describes a place where undead are common, but they are looked upon as a boon--skeletons do menial labor and tasks best not done by fragile living creatures, while the gift of vampirism is offered to those that suffer from incurable diseases and are near death. The blood they drink is from lifestock, but their opportunities for a noon luncheon are slightly diminished!" Isagoras chuckles at his joke. "Otherwise, society functions as normal."
Lord Belros looks at Alyssen, unperturbed.
"Magic is not a small matter. And neither is its source, or its purpose. But so far, you have shown fine actions, and I hope that will continue to be the case."
"I don't know where it comes from," Allysen admits. "All I know is the only things I've ever gotten from elven blood are bruises and lectures on why they feasted while I starved."
Without another word or even so much as another glance at Lord Belros, she turns away and pointedly pulls her hood over her ears and low over her face.
As she leads the mule away, you can hear her angrily muttering under her breath.
"Guess I can add threats to the list."
Isagoras finally catches Allysen's attention as she whips her head around to stare at him incredulously.
"They use undead as labor, and turn the sick into vampires?"
Grakkus and Amelius return to the group, concerned looks on their faces.
"Here's the plan," states Grakkus, "one or two of you need to scout ahead and find the exit to this cavern and make sure we can all get there without getting the merchandise wet. The water can't come up past three feet, is that understood? Who's going to volunteer? The rest of us will stay behind and change the packs on the mules a bit; move the packs up a bit."
Sitting down quietly, Bizzle stares at Isagoras' tale with deep interest. "So they're vampires... but they aren't evil? And Moves' stars are from... the magical place?", he scratches his head with interest, just as Grakkus and Amelius walk back.
"I volunteer!", the gnome practically leaps up from his seat on a petrified mushroom. "I see in the dark, and I can tell three feet a lot better than anyone else!", he laughs. "That's any depth I have to tiptoe in!" Seeing his axe, still lounging on the mushroom, he slams his foot onto the handle. The axe flies in the air, spinning twice, before landing in his meaty hand. With a theatrical bow, he feels the heft of the weapon in his hand, before grinning. "And if there's more of the Omani, we'll get them. Or find you!"
Grakkus and Amelius look the gnome up and down, and Amelius clears his throat.
"Erm, don't you think maybe someone slightly taller would be better at the job? I wouldn't want to go swimming in this," he says, pointing at the water-filled cavern. "God knows what's in there and it would be better to have two solid feat under you in case the chicken meets the fox."
Quresha steps forward, thumping the butt of her spear against the cavern floor. "I can investigate." To demonstrate what she has in mind, she steps up to the water's edge and extends the arm bearing the spear into the water. Upon retrieving it, the waterline is clear on the light-coloured wood.
"I will accompany you. Grakkus, one of your lanterns, please?"
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Isagoras nods his head as seems to have stumbled upon something that the others find of interest.
"Mm? Ah, yes, of course. The condition itself of vampirism is exactly what I am talking about. So many think that 'Vampires' need to drink on humans exclusively, and must drink until their victim is dead, that the vampires themselves believe it even though it's not true!
By embracing the condition, those people studied it the way we now study the stars and the weather. And they found that blood from any mammal carried the right nutrients for them, and that it only required a small amount--such that a cow can feed three vampires--or Kindred, as they prefer--and still live on, recovering in a week to feed them again.
And since vampires are immortal, the society, at least when he left it, was beginning to have people voluntarily become Kindred so that they might never have to leave their family. There were even some weddings that were capped with the groom and bride both turning into Kindred. Till death to us part, indeed!"
He winds down. Takes a breath.
"Ah, yes, I should go as well. I can channel power into a body, so that if we need greater strength to escape too much water, or sucking mud, I may be able to assist."
"I'll go. It'd be better to now rouse whatever is deeper in and no offense, but metal isn't exactly the best thing to wear when you're trying to be sneaky," Allysen says to Quresha, pointedly ignoring Isagoras as she hands the holywoman the reins to the mule she was leading. Without waiting for a reply, she takes a torch and goes off to find a path for them to use.
Since Allysen didn't explicitly exclude her, and she's wearing leather, MWG accompanies her.
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Brother Abraham is conflicted. In his heart he wants to be brave and join the explorers, but his panicked mind tell him that he will probably die in the cramped caverns, and his big body might block the others from escaping. Finally he is relieved when it is communicated that it might be best to stay behind and guard the others.
"There are still dangers out here as well, and I might be needed to confront them... Still if you are in dire need call out, and I'll hurry to your aid".
Lord Belros keeps looking in the direction of Allysen for some long moments after she walks off - and does hear her whispered words.
Hmmm...I see.
*******
The elven noble thinks for a short spell, then turns to the others.
"There.", he says as he points, "Yellow mold. Extremely deadly spores released should you approach it too closely, but easy to avoid so long as you know what to look out for. So, avoid it."
"Please don't set fire to it just to see," Allysen says before leaving with Moves with Grace to find a path. "Just steer clear and look out for more."
"Oh. But I'm an excellent swimmer..."He mutters, and it's probably the first time anyone's seen Bizzle saddened. The gnome sits down, putting his head in his calloused hands for a moment, as he kicks a pebble into the river. A moment later, he stands up slowly, and exhales loudly. "Good luck!", he waves the trio away, then rubs his hands together.
"Let's get those supplies up, folks!", he chirps out, the excitement in his voice somewhat feigned.
Quresha was about to go inspect the interesting-looking patch on the wall when Lord Belros's words stop her in her tracks.
"Right, right, good to know."
She backtracks, glancing over her shoulder and trying to imprint in her memory the appearance of the hazardous fungus. Once back with the rest of the group, she sets to redistributing the packs on the mules as directed.
= 5
Lord Belros casts his eyes about, seeking a safe path avoiding the deadly mould.
Allysen breathes a sigh of relief as they find the exit from this chamber and is already turning to head back when she spies the mushrooms.
Oh, bloody hells. Why did that dwarf have to choose this gods-forsaken route?
"Do either of you know what those are," Allysen asks with a nod towards the strange fungi.
"No clue."
"So, we've found an exit. Shall we go back to the rest of the party and lead them here?"
"I guess so," Allysen says with a shrug before starting to head back. She keeps an eye out for anything looking for a tasty snack of adventurer with a stick.
The scouting group returns a short while later with a clear understanding of how to move the caravan through the flooded tunnels. Those who stayed behind did their best to adjust the packs on the mules in order to place them as high on their backs as possible. Judging from the amount of complaining and readjusting Grakkus is having to do, however, the "caravan guards" aren't exactly doing the best job.
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Allysen takes the lead and the lead of one of the mules and points out the path and any of the dangers she saw, mostly with short sentences.
"Keep to the left. It gets deep there."
"Not that way. That path will kill you."
"There are loose rocks there."
"Don't eat that, Bizzle. It's deadly."
Closing his mouth slowly and discarding the rather appetising looking mushroom, Bizzle pats his hands on his trousers. "I was mostly just technically smelling it. Us gnomes have an affinity with mushrooms, you know.", though his voice is particularly unconvincing. Shouldering his axe, he turns to Grakkus once again readjusting the load, before scratching his head. "Come to think of it, trying to adjust something that much above my head was probably just as bad idea as going in to scout.", he shrugs.
"Maybe," Allysen says with a small smile that vanishes almost as quickly as it appears.
"I know I'd rather have you here by me than not. A skilled hand with a weapon is worth your life in dangerous places."