As Kaldwell moved around the bed chamber, his old bones refused to let him lift his feet too far off the ground and his shuffling wiped away any tracks that might have been found.
Yattle flits above Kaldwell while he examines the ground for tracks, unwittingly explaining at least one reason why none might be found, before returning to a broader sweep of the room.
"Well, we know they built at least one secret door into this place..."
Yattle looks around finding both a lockbox hidden under a bed and a second secret door. On the other side of the door is an antechamber. Three statues, more stylized and exaggerated than the rest of the gallery, flank the far ends of this chamber. Each depicts an attractive, middle-aged Varisian woman in a different emotional state—carefree, worried, and distraught. A pair of double doors provides the only visible entry or exit from this chamber.
A quick check reveals that both the box and the double-doors are locked.
Perhaps we should try the second secret door?
Yattle tosses the lockbox to Delroy. "Probably this too."
"This feel like an illusion to anyone else? It's not really my style, but I've had friends who'd love that kind of setup. Make an illusory maze of dead-ends and secret doors to keep us busy while they play the long game. Or we starve to death. Whichever."
"Let me work on those."
Check the box for traps:
And then unlock it if it seems safe:
Then check the door for traps:
And then unlock it if it seems safe:
Delroy does not find any traps on the lockbox. Opening it, he finds
- 16 pp
- 52 gp
- 3 lapis lazli stones worth 120 gp each
- 3 potions of cure serious wounds
- a set of marvelous pigments
He then checks the double doors for traps. He similarly finds none there, but he does some shuffling and the occasional murmuring of voices on the other side. Quietly, he manages to unlock the doors.
Delroy steps back away from the door and gestures towards it, indicating that there is someone behind it.
"Probably shouldn't just blow 'em up without seeing who they are..."
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Your fire is indeed hard for the fates to reverse
"We're trespassing on there home, even if we have a good cause. We should try speaking with them, if we're able," Kaldwell added with a murmur.
”Agreed. Any volunteers? I’m willing to do it, though I’m mediocre at best when it comes to this sort of thing.”
"I'm happy to do so, and if they are unfriendly, I can take the hit. Probably." Kaldwell was reasonably good at talking, thankfully, and probably wouldn't die.
"Talk first, before we hit anybody."
"Maybe we won't have to hit anybody."
Preparing himself, Kaldwell pushes open the pair of double doors. Inside, noxious fumes, emanating from four enormous vats of molten wax, roil through this vast workshop. Tools and half-finished mannequins crowd the floor and hang from the ceiling, while tables hold squirming, undulating worms the size of a man’s arm.
Inside the room, a giant ant with a crown and scepter seems to be working with one of the half-finished mannequins. Seeming to assist her is a Dwarven woman. When the doors open, both their heads snap up. The ant drops her wax sculpture and cries out, "Thieves! Thieves come sneaking in the night to steal more of my babies! Molly, protect the children! I will defend us!" The dwarven woman starts to rush over to a table as you see the ant's antennae begin to quiver. Something starts to emerge from each of the boiling vats around the room. It's clear if you wish a peaceful solution, you'll have to speak quickly as they have assumed the worst of you.
Eirnar claims " We're not thieves. " thinking about the jewels they just left alone. He continues We came to talk, if you'd just give us a moment to do so...
While he attempted to keep the sensation that his bones were attempting to escape his flesh and flee this place to himself, Kaldwell's mind returned to the cacoon. The smells of the vile silk woven to hold him, the burning in his limbs from the venom that bound him, the only sound his thrumming heart and harsh breath, the only movement allowed his darting eyes -
The old Half-Elf dragged himself back from the memory of hopeless terror with a shuddering breath only part masked by him dipping his head respectfully as his mind tried to recall the vast spider-thing that had bound and devoured him nearly a century before, when his his allies had shattered it's glistening black carapace and torn him free of the silk, how the sensation of it's fangs had -
[I]Enough! It is dead and I am not, and I will not sully my word by not doing as I said before it is even tried. Meeting the creature in the eyes, or at least the point between them, he said,, "Our apologies for the ill-entry of your home, but we had no other way to see you and speak with you. We have need of your aid, and would like to barter for it. We wish no harm on you nor your household." He let out a breath with a slight shudder to it as he finished.
"Lies! You come sneaking in the night to take my children from me! Who sent you? Was it the Nightpeddler? The Ticktock Man? Have they grown tired of dirtying their hands themselves?" The ant queen hisses.
"Darling, maybe we shouldn't be rash. Just talk about this like reasonable individuals..."
"Don't be fooled by them, Molly! They are simply mercenaries, here to take more of our babies. See how they quake as I see through their lies! I can smell their fear! But never, for I shall protect us all!"
As she speaks, mounds of wax rise from the four vats and begin heading towards you as Molly gives an uncertain look. It appears your words have swayed the Dwarven woman but not the ant queen.
Yattle gathers a fragment of their power, holding it ready for if the goo monsters attack before someone else is able to calm things down, but limiting themselves to make certain not to set the house on fire, yet.
Special Defenses: None
Special Abilities: Weaving Caress- As a standard action, Marzalee can touch a construct or inanimate object and restore 3d8+8 points of damage
SLA: Summon Swarm 2/day (as spider swarm except creatures are ants)
Special Defenses: None
Special Abilities: Molten (Ex): The molten wax making up the creature's body burns on contact, inflicting an additional 1d6 fire damage on all slam attacks. Any creature grappling an animated wax gob or striking it with natural weapons automatically takes 1d6 fire damage. Pinned creatures instead suffer 2d6 fire damage per round
SLA: None
Eirnar continues, Please, we know we could fight but that would see either us, or yours injured. Please show restraint, we don't want the big ones to crush us to death. Eirnar casts Freedom of Movement on himself, having no innate ability to defend himself from things that grab.
Yattle focuses on gathering a fragment **HUGE PORTION** of their power, warning the queen with a piercing laugh, "What you smell isn't fear, but we can still talk this through if you want. Otherwise? Well, wax melts awfully easy"
Lokhir prepares himself for battle by turning his blade into a Bane (construct) blade.
Marzelee stepped back slightly, hissing at Molly. "You see! They threaten us and our children like the thugs they are! They are worse than their masters! Vile brutes willing to kill to get their way! Well, kill me you must, for it is only over my dead body that you will steal more of our babies to do gods know what terrible things to!"
A low rumbling is felt through the floor.
Kaldwell kept his hands clear of his own swords as he raised them up. "Madam, we have no wish to die, hence my allies chose to ready themselves for this battle. We have no wish to take your children, however. Please, if you wish we can move outside your rooms and speak there if you feel more comfortable. We simply need to ask your aid." Kaldwell trembled slightly at that suggestion but kept his voice low and calm.
The oozing mounds of wax glide forward, but instead of talking, they simply slam the doors in your faces. From the other side you can hear Marzalee yelling her response. "Very well intruders, talk."
Eirnar sighs with deep relief, waiting on Kaldwell to progress things. He did a good job calming that down, I best not get in the way now.
Yattle lets the waves of heat and building rumble of an impending magmatic explosion fall away as they look to Kaldwell to see what his followup is.
Backing away, keeping his hands visible and breathing a little easier now that he had some distance, focused on the task. "Thank you for agreeing to speak with us. I won't waste any of your time that I need not, so allow me to get to the point - we are mortals from Golarion, seeking a fellow brought here against his will and a means of returning home. To do this we seek the tokens of the Bard. It has been suggested to us that you may well have one, and we would ask you how we might earn it from you."
"We are mortals-"
"Most of us."
"-from Golarion-"
"Most of us."
"-seeking a fellow brought here against his will and a means of returning home. To do this we seek the tokens of the Bard. It has been suggested to us that you may well have one, and we would ask you how we might earn it from you."
"That bit's all true."
Eirnar thinks quietly, not wanting to stir up trouble Well said... Given the evidence we saw of where the 'grubs' come from, and her talking about her 'babies', it does put quite another spin on the smith's request.
Backing away, keeping his hands visible
Hey hey hey, I threatened to burn her to death in self defense :-p
There's a long pause from the other side of the door. Finally Marzalee calls out, "Yes...if that is truly all you wish, then I believe a deal can be made. As you've no doubt gathered, the Ticktock Man and the Nightpeddler have made a habit of sneaking into my home to steal my children from me. The Nightpeddler to use them as slaves and the Ticktock Man to trade with the Nightpeddler for his precious raw materials. It's why I've been forced to re-arrange my home and booby trap it. If you kill the Nightpeddler for me, I will give you The Busy Hands. That will stop him from taking my babies, and with him gone, the Ticktock Man will have no reason to steal from me either."
"All else being equal, I'd rather burn the grubthief than the grub-birther."
Eirnar nods in agreement with Yattle Indeed, if these two are really stealing her 'children', it seems taking their tokens by force seems justified, but perhaps we could discuss something. Is the Nightpeddler the smith? What happens if all maintence stops? Does this whole place fall apart? Perhaps there is a solution with less, if not any, fire?
"It goes to the heart of whether these creatures are really 'people' and if we should care if this world ends after we rescue Garracy. We know that this place was created artificially and that these creatures turned on and destroyed their creator."
Wincing a little as Yattle corrected him - it was easy to forget just how different they were, especially when flustered - Kaldwell nodded with the others, although he would still seek clarity from the creature itself before fighting. He had no idea if this one was lying, after all. "I can make no promises, of course, but we can seek the one you have told us of." It would mean they'd need to work out a different deal with the TickTock Man. "Can you tell us more about the Nightpeddler, so we may have the best chance of success? Can we rescue those of yours he has taken, or has something happened so that such is no longer possible?"
Eirnar adds, Also, do these creatures go by other names? Is one of them refer to himself as the 'smith'?
"The Nightpeddler wanders around the desert with his caravan, trading goods and wares without discrimination with anybody willing to make him a good deal. It's rumored he's even found a way out of the realm, no doubt to sell my babies to the highest bidder outside. I have no idea if this is true or not or what fate ultimately has fallen those he's taken from me. If the Nightpeddler and Ticktock Man are going by other names, I do not know of them. It has been a few centuries since I last saw either of them. Lucky for them. When I get my hands on either of them, I'll be sure to make them pay."
"Thank you for what you know," Kaldwell said slowly. "I can't imagine it might happen, but if we find a way to remove the problem of the Nightpeddler without killing him, will that be acceptable? Or will only his death satisfy you?" He couldn't see another way to stop him right now, but there was always a chance.
The weaver's voice is low and venomous as she responds. "No. I want him dead. I want to make sure his rebirth is as slow and excruciating as possible. Payback for what he has done to my children."
"So uh, everyone okay with that? I guess we can always see what Nightpeddler's like before we make any final decisions..."
"I'm fine with it."
"It's only time and a little effort, and we can't even be certain that time is actually real in this place. Nothing else is."