Christian shrugs slightly at the question.
not sure. Could be a vial was broken during a scuffle...maybe it was broken on purpose. To hide any chance of tracking by sent. A way of overloading the senses. I think we will find some answers soon.
Mr. Black wings his way onward, closely followed by Mr. Pink, and the avian pair scouts the final passage. This tunnel slopes downward rather steeply, dipping beneath the others you have trod so far.
Possessing a weak olfactory sense, your familiar cannot identify the source of the smell.
However, through your empathic link, you also glean from Mr. Black that there is someone sleeping in the room ahead.
|
Mr. Pink will empathically recall Mr. Black. He whispers in their shared language and sends the bird to Orlog with instructions. He also gestures for the group to remain quiet and wait for his signal (Mr. Black).
Then he puts away his ranged weapon and draws out a weighty sap. He stays within the shadows offered by the softly glowing fire to get a better view of the scene ahead.
The raven familiar alights upon Orlog's pauldron and perches there, quiet and calm for now.
An iron brazier glows faintly, providing not only light but a welcome warmth in the chilly labyrinth. This seems to be the source of the peculiar aroma, as either incense or fragrant wood has been fed to the fire.
A chest is pushed against the wall to the right. A pair of statues depicting more of those beastmen stand in the corners of the room to either side of the entrance.
A shrouded figure, wrapped in a cloak or blanket, lies stretched out on the divan - apparently sleeping, if the light breathing is any indication. Whoever they are, they do not stir from sleep as you creep into the room.
"Curious, the scent acts as some sort of tranquilizing agent?" He seems intrigued by the medical possibilities
Scratching his beard, Wait, so there is someone asleep in there, but you were able to get in and out? Perhaps we should all approach and see what's the story with this person?
Shrugging his shoulders, I'm confused, so I'll defer to all of you on how to proceed.
Peering inside the room beyond, you find that this thirty-foot by twenty-foot room has been lavishly furnished. A simple but well-carved divan that could double as a bed dominates, with an elegant table beside it bearing a goblet, an unlit brass oil lamp, and a checkered gameboard with many small stones as markers. A broad, sumptuous rug of many colors lies upon the floor and promises relief to your feet after hours of marching through the winding tunnels.
An iron brazier glows faintly, providing not only light but a welcome warmth in the chilly labyrinth. This seems to be the source of the peculiar aroma, as either incense or fragrant wood has been fed to the fire.
A chest is pushed against the wall to the right. A pair of statues depicting more of those beastmen stand in the corners of the room to either side of the entrance. Their tall height reaches almost to the ceiling.
From afar, you see the shrouded figure Mr. Pink spoke of, wrapped in a voluminous cloak and lying stretched out on the divan. They remain asleep for now.
Bydar looks about "Original Iobarian styles in this chamber." Then his eyes fall on the wrapped up figure
"Can anyone here sense either magic or evil? I fear my prayers were not directed in that vein."
Nodding to the question...
Sorry but that is beyond my scope. Tend to have others around that can do such things. It is a good idea to see what we are dealing with before we have to deal with it.
Shaking his head and trying to pitch his voice as low as possible, Alas Bydar, that is not something I can do either. I suppose we wake this individual up, and are prepared for the worst case. Looking at their hall's decoration I don't expect this to go well...
Brandt adjusts the grip on his axe, awaiting someone else to awaken the sleeping figure, preparing to strike should it go poorly.
The shrouded figure proves to be a light sleeper, as the full party's entrance - moving without Mr. Pink's preternatural stealth - seems to rouse her. She awakens with a start, turning and twisting upright upon the divan. She clutches at the clasp and hood of her cloak protectively, keeping them drawn tightly around her as though to ward off the cold. Only her chin and lower cheeks are visible, and they are the same pale coppery hue as her slender fingers and knuckles.
"Who's there?" she breathes nervously. "Who are you?"
Seeing that her face is mostly obscured. His voice remains calm yet the tone is reassuring. Deciding to keep things slightly vague, he proceeds with confidence.
It is my custom to speak directly to a person by looking them in the eyes. My lady would you indulge me with that boon.
Christian looks to the others for a short moment and then speaks.
Our apologizes my lady, we did not mean to frighten you. We are exploring these old tunnels. You may call me Christian and these are my companions.
He extends his hand out towards the others.
You have us at a disadvantage. Perhaps you could indulge us with your name and what brings you to these dark tunnels?
"Bydar Lebeda, Cleric of Shelyn," Bydar bows, "You appear cold. If you would like an extra cloak, you may have mine."
"I am quite fine," she hastily replies to Bydar, holding up her palm to halt any advance. "Between the fire and my own cloak, I am warm enough."
She shuffles her unseen shoulders against the velveteen touch of her cloak to emphasize her point.
"My name is Sapphira," she states plainly. "I suppose you could call me an adventurer, although my young career has been an abject disaster so far. I convinced a quartet of halfling explorers to bring me along as they, too, attempted to plumb this labyrinth, but almost immediately we were set upon by those creatures," she says, gesturing towards one of the statues. "My former partners scattered and fled. I have not seen them for days, so I presume they've been slain."
Bydar normally considers himself a good judge of character, but the woman is a cipher to him "A pleasure, Sapphira, but if I may ask, the sleeping arrangement, the aroma and so forth of the brazier ...what purpose does it serve if any? I am curious."
Orlog look at the woman and at the room. "Everything we encountered in this place was either dead or wanted us to be. How are you still alive?" He examines the room a bit more, using one of his orison to detect magical auras. He expect to find magical ward that could have prevented the creature from entering this room.
"I'll admit, at first the incense was a bit too cloying for my taste, but it's grown on me," Sapphira says, the hint of a grin peering out from beneath her hood. "After all, anything is better than the damp smell of dust and soil."
She swings herself around upon the divan, nimbly draping her legs over the cushioned side and sitting upright.
"I found this place while trying to escape from those horned beasts. As best as I can tell, this was a high priest's chambers, or something like that. It certainly isn't sized for those monsters, not that it keeps them away. I've actually found hunks of meat and scraps of old clothing left at the door," she says, pointing towards the passage from which you arrived. "Like they're leaving offerings."
Sapphira pauses as a shudder races through her cloaked limbs.
"I worry that what they have in mind for me is worse than death, but so far...they haven't come any closer. Of course, I haven't been so desperate yet as to run off blindly back into those tunnels alone. Now that you're here, maybe I've got a chance. Of course, I don't expect help for nothing. With nothing but time on my hands over the past several days, I've managed to find some hidden caches around here. I'll share them with you if you can help me escape so I never have to see another one of those things again," she says, emphasizing her plea by now pointing towards one of the statues stuffed into the corner.
Bydar turns to look at the statues of the beast men, trying to analyze them, sculpture is how he likes to express his own love of beauty.
Listening to the woman speak brings even more questions..
that leaves one unaccounted for.
So where is the last halfling
Lady Sapphira...The area is not secured, so escape is not an option at the moment. I have a few questions before we sign up for escort duty anyways.
Christian move around the room in hopes of proving his point. He keeps his distance but positions himself so that he can get a better view of her face.
How did you and your halfling companions enter these catacombs? What settlement did you set out from?
He looks closely at her fingers and noting the odd color.
your hands hold an exquisite shade of copper...
Christian utters some words that almost sound musical.
Orlog keep concentrating on his spell as he walk around the room, trying to see if there is anything out of the ordinary. He also keeps the woman in sight. For some reason, he just can bring himself to trust her.
Nodding at the conversation, Brandt waits for an appropriate break to introduce himself. My name is Brandt, son of Oluff the Tall.
Considering the level of distrust being shown by Christian, Brandt keeps both hands on his great axe, prepared for anything.
Furthermore, you notice something shifting beneath the hood of her cloak, as though something alive sits among her hair.
Sapphira clutches at the clasp of her hood and reflexively draws her cloak close. She heaves a sigh.
"I'd hoped to avoid honesty because the last time I told the truth, I was almost beheaded for it. But I can see that you are as suspicious of me as...well, as I would be in your place, and it does me no good to insult your intelligence."
She settles back into her seat upon the divan, readying herself to tell a story while also bracing herself for the repercussions.
"I believe Mr. Narthropple, the leader of the halfling adventuring company, said they set out from either Pitax or Mivon. I cannot quite recall precisely. I, myself, first met them near the lake shore above while they searched for an entrance to these tunnels. When I introduced myself, I told them that I was under a terrible curse and that anyone who looked upon my face would die, and I turned to adventuring to find a way to break the curse.
"That was a lie, of course. In fact, as you have likely come to suspect - cautiously circling me as you are - I am a medusa."
She pauses to catch her breath and ensure that this revelation does not earn her immediate hostility. When allowed, she explains herself further.
"I told this truth to the first band of adventurers I encountered in the area. They were led by a pair of brothers from Taldor, and their response when I asked to join them was to drive me off with sword and spell. I ran far enough away that I thought I lost them, but as I lay down for the night, I caught them sneaking up on me with weapons drawn. I escaped again and ran for hours through the dark until I was exhausted.
"After such an experience, I hope you can understand why I do not immediately believe that 'honesty is the best policy,' as many say but few follow. However, I would also have you know that I purposefully avoided using my eyes upon any of those Taldan adventurers, if you need further evidence of my sincerity. I came to this region to make friends, not enemies."
You are positive that Sapphira is being truthful, and she is intensely nervous about how you and your companions will react to her identity.
Christian tries his best to hide his surprise but it is not everyday you run into a medusa. He steps back as his hand reaches for his weapon.
Easy...relax and focus. She has shown no ill will. Treat her with respect until her own action dictate otherwise.
Christian visibly relaxes and steps forward. His hands out and away from his weapon. He smiles and chuckles slightly as he looks the woman up and down.
It was not long ago I was having a conversation with a young man. The topic was not the same but the situation was...similiar.
The young man tries his best to make his demeanor friendly and his words kind.
what people assume of you is of no importance...what people actually see of you is... Never worry about what people think they know about you. Strive to show them what you value by your actions.
Lady Sapphira...it takes strength and courage to admit the truth. I thank you for your candor. I do appreciate such qualities.
The brothers and their friends are known to us. Any information on them would be greatly appreciated. We are long overdue for a meeting.
Be at ease...you have shown no hostilities and hence there shall be none coming from us...perhaps you can tell us more about yourself. What talents did you offer to the Mr. Narthropple for him to accept your aid?
Christian looks to the other...hope on his face.
I truly hope no hostilities are coming from the others.
Nodding at Christian's words, Brandt agrees, "At ease lady, your actions speak even louder than your words. Can you look after yourself in these catacombs without, uh, endangering us as well?"
Looking sheepish at the last part, Brandt quickly follows up, Lady, we've accepted others banished for their appearance or other traits from civilized lands. We put more faith in the heart of those we welcome in than what their faces show us."
Brandt visibly relaxes his grip on the axe, going so far as to sheath it and re-strings his bow to move ahead in the catacombs. Fenrir stays by his side, not quite sure what to make of the situation.
"I do not know if you are familiar with my faith, Lady Sapphira.But Shelyn is a peaceful goddess. I am her servant, devoted to love, art, and beauty within as well as without. I have only heard legends of your kind before, but it is your actions that should be judged, not your nature. Lord Christian and Brand have the right of it there. I find it, ironic. I deal in sculptures, but I do not wish to become one so thank you for the veil. I have so many questions, but this is not the time I imagine."
"I think Mister Narthtropple was just glad to have someone who could reach treasure upon high places," Sapphira jests, hazarding a half-concealed smile. "To their credit, the halfling company was well-rounded. Narthropple fancied himself a hardy warrior, and he was certainly dressed for the part, and he brought with him a priest, a scout, and a mage."
She pauses to stand from the divan. She brushes aside the hanging hem of her cloak to reveal a short sword clasped at her shapely hip, as well as a bronze bracelet upon her arm and a polished silver ring upon her finger.
"I offered an extra set of hands, an extra blade, and an extra set of eyes. I wasn't going to show them what those eyes could do, at least not right away, but I figured it would be a valuable last resort. I just hoped it would turn them against me like it did those Taldan curs."
Bydar's words elicit a broader smile from Sapphira, one that shows more clearly beneath her low-hanging hood.
"Your faith sounds quite nice. I don't have much knowledge of such things. My mother absolutely abhorred the gods and their servants. The only stories she ever shared with me were the exploits of her sisters - especially the tales of how they were hunted down and murdered. I think she was trying to inculcate a sense of self pride and a hated for the 'lesser people.' She succeeded on the first account, but on the second she achieved something quite different."
Sapphira takes the opportunity to stretch her legs after her rest by circling the divan.
"Listening to my mother's stories, it became clear to me that our 'sisterhood,' as she liked to call our people, spent far too much time antagonizing...well, people like yourselves. So, when I set out on my own, I decided I would have a much better chance at a long life if, instead of bearing fangs like some beast, I did my best to play nicely. Of course, my success has been quite mixed so far," she sarcastically muses with a tilt of her hooded head.
"A medusa? You mean like snake for hair and eyes that can turn you to stone medusa? That is quite a surprise." Orlog now turn his full attention to the woman. "Well, the river kingdom will never stop to surprise me."
Christian looks around the room for a moment.
If no one object...let us search for anything of use in this room.
He indicates that area that Sapphira mentioned.
We then should get a move on and finish clearing out this place. It would appear that there is still one halfling left unaccounted for and that is Mister Narthtropple. He just might still be alive in this place and in need of help.
He looks back at the others...
shall we...?
"Your faith sounds quite nice. I don't have much knowledge of such things. My mother absolutely abhorred the gods and their servants. The only stories she ever shared with me were the exploits of her sisters - especially the tales of how they were hunted down and murdered. I think she was trying to inculcate a sense of self pride and a hated for the 'lesser people.' She succeeded on the first account, but on the second she achieved something quite different."
"My own family hoped I would find religion largely to advance my station and give them contacts. When I found my calling in a goddess not known for political influence, at least not in Brevoy, well, the family was not pleased. So it seems we both learned only half the lessons our fore-bearers wanted." Bydar smiles a bit, "If you can make a life among us where you do not ah, antagonize, the locals we're sworn to protect, I think we might become friends. I hope so." A nod.
Christian looks around the room for a moment.
If no one object...let us search for anything of use in this room.
He indicates that area that Sapphira mentioned.We then should get a move on and finish clearing out this place. It would appear that there is still one halfling left unaccounted for and that is Mister Narthtropple. He just might still be alive in this place and in need of help.
He looks back at the others...
shall we...?
"Sounds sensible to me, Lord Christian." A nod
|
|
Regretfully, we did not end this menace in it's sleep. Medusa are by nature cursed. It does not bode well for our kingdom to ally with such creatures. Though as of yet unseen, the possibilities of such an accord remain.
Mr. Pink remains silent, preferring to keep his potentially unpopular opinions to himself. He also keeps to the back of the group with eyes averted to the woman. When Lord Christian signals the end of the conversation, Mr. Pink releases Mr. Black down the halls to resume his usual scouting and begin the search for the final halfling.
The petrifying gaze of a medusa's eyes is the most infamous trait of this race of monster women. Their bite is also venomous, although this is usually an absolute last resort when they have exhausted their other wiles and defenses.
All known medusas are female. Rarely, a medusa may decide to keep a male humanoid as a mate. Medusas can mate with any race capable of propagation with humans, though their children are always female and always carry their mother’s curse.
.....
Sapphira holds up her left index finger to both pause the party and draw its attention, much as an entertainer might before performing a trick for children. A bronze seal ring upon her finger dully catches the light of the brazier.
"This ring was one of the first things I discovered when I took refuge in this old chamber," she explains, walking towards one of the walls. "It bore the same axe emblem as the door that brought us into these tunnels, so I immediately suspected it held some importance. With nothing but hours unending down here, I circled this room many times, examining every crevice in my boredom. Idly rapping my knuckles upon the walls, I eventually found this."
She places the seal ring upon the stone, and with a wheezing hiss the previously concealed door groans open.
With a flourish of her arms, she invites you to look inside.
The chamber is cramped with twenty-some clay urns, each the height of a man, etched with archaic symbols and motifs similar to those out in Sapphira's room. Two of the urns have been toppled and partially broken, spilling their contents upon the floor: many hundreds, if not thousands of coins.
What's more, upon the far wall of the treasury, hangs a breastplate and battleaxe of great size, both wrought of bronze. A number of human-sized suits of armor have been heaped in the corners and along the walls, showing signs of terrible damage that render them all but useless. Only one cast aside piece, a shirt of mail, seems to be serviceable.
Finally, the oddest item you espy is a rust-red sphere, set upon a stone pedestal.
Entering the chamber Brandt seems stunned by the obvious wealth. Well, this is unexpected by a long shot. We seem to have come into some resources for our settlement This will take us time to get this all removed above ground, but we do need to press on from here. There is still a missing halfling somewhere in this warren.
"Well, it's a relief to see that at least one of you trusts that this is not some sort of trap," Sapphira sighs as Brandt steps into the treasury. "As I stated, this outer chamber was probably the chambers for the high priest of whatever people once commanded these halls. I reason this hidden inner chamber is where that priest hoarded the offerings and tithes received.
"Well, except for those old, damaged bits of armor," she clarifies, gesturing towards the broken suits of mail and scale within the treasury. "I dragged those in here myself. They were originally littered haphazardly out here, but I moved them to tidy up my living space. As best as I can deduce, those horned creatures tossed the unwanted remnants of old victims in the outer chamber."
Sapphira steps away from the revealed treasury and sidles towards the chest pushed against the wall in the outer room.
"There are far too many coins for a slip of a girl like me to manage," she jests sarcastically, "So you can help yourselves to the whole amount, as well as anything else inside. I've already picked out a few smaller pieces for myself."
"Lady Sapphira, I feel that if you intended us harm, you wouldn't have been so forthcoming. Otherwise you'd have unveiled yourself already. Brandt nods at her. Quickly surveying the good contained in the room to see if anything jumps out as being salvageable.
Mr. Pink, would you do the honors with that chest if you have a moment? Brandt asks over his shoulder while discarding the ruined armor for the moment.
Oh Bydar is intrigued and also enters, "Priesthood ? My ecclesiastical curiosity is engaged," He admits almost boyishly
Nodding politely at the medusa, Christian moves to the secret doorway.
Standing within the door frame as he scans the room, the young lord smiles slightly.
I think almost every thing here can be salvage and put to good use.
He enters and looks at the coins. Even going so far as to scoop up some coins and letting them fall back into the urn from which they came from.
The coins will help obviously and the urns...but
He walks further into the room and looks down at the piles of armor.
...so will the armor. We can repair these and make them serviceable again. I know that magic can be used to facilitate such a feat but what that magic is...well is beyond my knowledge. The very least we may be able to find a smithy mark and figure out more about who these people were that fell in these tunnels.
He kneels down by the mail shirt. Gentle picking it up and rolling it around his hands...feeling the links collapse in on one another.
This may come in handy...
He looks up from his kneeling position to look at the sphere.
as might that. Wonder what that might be?
He turns to the others.
Anyone have a clue as to what we have found...or been given?
Sapphira moves with somewhat frantic haste to interpose herself between Mr. Pink and the chest in the main chamber. She holds up one hand in a halting manner while using the other to keep her hood pulled down, lest her movements jostle it out of place.
"No, no," she firmly insists, warding the tengu away. "Not this one. This one is mine. I stowed my pack inside, alongside some extra clothes and the handful of prizes I claimed for myself from that trove," she says, nodding her hooded head towards the treasury door.
However, you also notice ways in which the iconography has been defaced. In particular, bas-reliefs of warriors and even aspects of Gorum himself have had their eyes roughly gouged out with crude tools. This strongly suggests that during the decay of the Iobarian presence here, before this complex was abandoned, the adherents turned against their traditional worship.
"This was a shrine to Gorum at one time, but the disfigurements, they turned against the god." He looks thoughtful, "I wonder if this could eventually be used as a shrine again." Thoughtful "But that's a matter that can wait."
at Lord Christian's question, "Alas. I cannot currently detect magic."
A pause "I am somewhat leery of the rust red sphere."
Orlog remains in the main, not wanting to leave Mr.Pink with the medusa. "A temple of Gorum you say? Well, at least it is not dedicated to an evil god." He pauses for a second, curious as to what might be hidden in the chest the medusa is guarding. "We should just grab what might be useful and leave the rest for now, At least until we finish securing the place."
"This was a shrine to Gorum at one time, but the disfigurements, they turned against the god." He looks thoughtful, "I wonder if this could eventually be used as a shrine again." Thoughtful "But that's a matter that can wait."
at Lord Christian's question, "Alas. I cannot currently detect magic."
A pause "I am somewhat leery of the rust red sphere."
Is there another way to learn more about it?
Nodding in agreement with Orlog.
Most of these things can sit right here until we finish clearing the tunnels. If we are not able to figure out what that orbs is then we leave it also.
He turns as the Medusa speaks out about the chest..
Christian nods for everyone to get ready as a frown appears on his face.
Approaching from behind with the medusa between himself and Mr. Pink, Christian sees that the Medusa's hand is on her hood and the Tengu has retreated away from her. His hand remains ready to draw forth his weapon but as of yet he has not done so.
His voice comes off neutral and calm but yet filled with trepidation.
Lady Sapphira, I Strongly suggest you take your hand away from your hood. I wish you no harm but if you are dead set on aggression over a chest of trinkets...Then we will have a serious talk about our future together. Nice and slow...please...I do not want any misunderstandings. I am not sure what has brought this about but I do not take kindly to threatening my companions over trifle things...unless...There is more here than you are letting on to? What did you find that you are so protective of? What is in that chest that you are so willing to fight for? Am I misunderstanding your intentions?
Sapphira's hand darts away from the hem of her hood as though it were a burning ember. She raises both palms plaintively and tilts her head down in a show of keeping her unseen eyes downcast.
"Let us not be too hasty!" she insists, a note of panic creeping into her voice. "Especially since we were getting on so swimmingly. If you wish, I will show you the contents."
She kneels down beside the chest and lifts the lid. Half of its space is occupied by a well-worn trail pack and a jug of lamp oil. A couple sets of folded clothing are laid down within the other half.
"As I said, those beasts would actually leave these garments like offerings," she speaks, lifting one of the umber-dyed dresses, made from a coarse fabric. "They are full of moth holes, and these are simply the ones that did not reek of mold. I can't say the people who once walked these halls had very commendable taste in fashion, but I'm not one to turn down a gift."
A number of shiny baubles sit atop the layers of stored clothing. Sapphira lifts a few items as if to show them off, quietly proud of her collection. They include another pair of bracelets - one of silver, one of ivory links - and a handful of rings set with varying stones. The most notable piece of jewelry she lifts from the chest, although she pauses with uncertainty about whether to reveal such a treasure, is a necklace of fine, silvery chain links from which is suspended a ruby pendant.
"I pray that at least your avian friend can share my fondness for shiny treasures," Sapphira says with a wry grin. "I recovered these pieces from the treasury and resolved that if I escaped - either by rescue or desperate flight - these would be the ones I took with me. Can you fault a fellow adventurer for wanting to come away from such an ordeal with something for her troubles?"
She accentuates the rhetorical question with a shrug, putting on an air of innocence.
"As for that metallic red sphere, I decided to keep well away from whatever it is. I like to think of myself as an intelligent girl, but I know of nothing to compare with that oddity, and I am not inclined to experiment with it."
Bydar is a bit alarmed at the escalation, "Peace all, please. Yes, we have had a good start."