"With an offering in coin or gems?" The rocky creature suggests, pointing to the baskets.
"Be generous!"
Haleen looks puzzled down at the small creature. It doesn't look like a pushover, but its ego seems to be much bigger than the creature.
She looks around to crosscheck if there are more of those, or any other danger.
“Many of us in Kelmarane are alchemists,” Aith says, perhaps stretching a point, as she places herself to get into the bag of holding Antarah’s carrying. “We would be honoured if your masters would accept a couple of weapons such as we use.”
She extracts a couple of injection spears and the calming potions to go with them, vaguely gesturing at their use. “These make even a perilous hunt more manageable.” So long as I don’t actually need to demonstrate how they work, we’ll be fine.
<“I doubt any of us are going to get much use out of that whip,”> she adds in an undertone in Elven, in case the bizarre spears don’t cut the mustard.
The mephit balks at the wooden tools. "You want to offend the masters?"
Tariq gets where the little elemental is trying to drive them to, and he he can't actually blame it.
"We know your masters will take pleasure in our gifts, but here, we'll also add this" he says, putting his flint and steel besides the other offerings. If he were an elemental, he would love a good quality steel for dinner, wouldn't he?
"That's a good start." Rocky comments.
So I read the one I shouldn't and skipped the one I should... Typical.
So now I don't know what to do xD Someone help me!
“Hunting isn’t considered the sport of queens among your masters’ people, then?” Aithaloessa can’t help but be irrelevantly curious, filing the factoid away for her mental social notes.
With a few Elven grumbles about the crudity of so bald an offering, she nonetheless reaches for her own purse and pulls out a handful of coins, which she clinks down into a suitable bowl and hopes for the best. It’s mostly gold, but there’s probably a platinum or two in there too, knowing her luck.
Rocky picks up one of the coins and bites it, as if to check if it's real gold. "Fine then. Whom shall I announce and what's your business?"
"The mephit eats gems and metal," murmurs Yasmeena helpfully. "I do not know what its salamander masters eat, but it is doubtful they would be offended by the other offerings."
So it seems Aith has solved it successfully, though maybe it took a bit more than necessary. All's well that ends well, though.
"And we just want to present our respect and talk" he adds to Antarah's introduction.
"Well, follow me." Rocky prompts the knights and leads the way. The curving, gravel-strewn passage widens as it slopes upward. Several jets of orange flame light the rocky hall with hellish color and dancing shadows, revealing a flat landing near the slope’s middle. The contents of several scorched cauldrons bubble and hiss upon the platform, each balanced on ironwork stands. Beyond the cauldrons, the passage continues. The fire jets upon the walls raise the temperature to severe heat.
Two fire salamanders are on guard duty on the landing here. One of the 6-foot-long creatures wraps around the base of a small iron cauldron—its blackened humanoid upper body dips into the steaming contents as it drinks deeply. Another swings an iron spear with precision, attacking As Rocky comes along with his entourage, they straighten and look with suspicion at the visitors.
The next cave is a two-tiered chamber that glows with red-hot rocks that jut from the ground in angry spears. Several large, worked pieces of stone form giant fist shapes that project out from the walls forming stylized braziers, orange flames licking upward from between the fingers. Two rocky ramps coil up to a higher platform, where a brilliant curtain of strung purple crystals nearly conceals a passage leading deeper into the mountain. Three of the salamanders recline among the hot rocks here, two of them asleep.
The sound of escaping steam hisses through the next chamber, the walls broken with thick cracks radiating flickering firelight. A stone table scattered with coal, ember colored stones, and elaborate patterns drawn in ash fills an alcove to the north, while opposite that lies a pallet of cinders and dark iron shavings. Rocky stops in this room and waits. Suddenly a salamander appears out of nowhere. "Who do you bring here?" the creature inquires.
"These are the knights of Kelmarane who wish to pay there respect to the masters." Rocky replies.
"Well, well, why not start here?" the fire salamander suggests to the knights.
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Antarah feels adequately threatened by the environment, but is glad that they have a guide. Before passing the salamander guards, he sheathes his sword, thinking that if he needs it, they're probably in too much trouble already. Suddenly he realizes that they could have asked Rocky to read the mysterious scroll they have as well.
In any case, he has no idea what to say. It's clearly a meeting meant as an introduction. They might have to offer them something, but he has no idea what. He wonders why is such a society of fire people living so close to the House of the Beast. He doubts they worship Rovagug and seem to have no dealings with either the gnolls or troglodytes. He thinks this seems like a diplomatic mission, and they should serve as Kelmarane's ambassadors, which is probably a role better left to Yasmeena to fill. He is more of a merchant, Aithaloessa is their sheriff, Tariq is their spiritual leader and Haleen is... an NPC well, more of a brawler. He bows his head awkwardly.
"Are you a master?" Tariq asks. "If so, we respect you. If not, we respect you, but a bit less."
Then her turns to Rocky. "We also said we wanted to talk."
Aith is definitely not a fire mage: bad enough still being stuck in a desert after having grown up surrounded by one, but the volcanic heat of these caves is something else, especially since her body is still processing venom from a bug bite. She could be described as ‘glowing’ only out of pity: soggy and on the point of wilting would be more accurate.
Still, she pulls herself up to attention as best she can while the group is being introduced. Only to shoot Tariq a dubious glance as he treats the social niceties with the sort of care that she often lavishes upon inconvenient architecture.
"Are you a master?" Tariq asks. "If so, we respect you. If not, we respect you, but a bit less."
Then he turns to Rocky. "We also said we wanted to talk."
“That is,” she says quickly, “we need to talk to the persons in charge, and surely someone as important as yourself would know what to do with our information. The so-called ‘Carrion King’ and his pet creatures and sycophants have been causing trouble for miles around, and since we were dragged into these things, we’re trying to make sure that no-one’s grievances with them are left unanswered. Your people are some of very few that have had the civility to grant us an audience without having been holed up at bay first. You seem to be at ease, which is a good sign, but now that we've dealt with the Carrion King, we wanted to make sure that you’re not … trapped here by some binding or geas, I hope, or some other leverage from the other locals?”
She supposes these caves are the best place for folk like salamanders, but that doesn’t mean she’s not surprised to see them on this plane, though she tries to be tactful about it, and about not asking outright what they’re up to.
She's making things up a bit too quickly as she goes along to be quite as formally correct as she might want to be, but she thinks she's managed to avoid putting both feet in her mouth, at least.
"Oh, the Carrion King. No, he's no issue here. But as you mention it, we are inconvenienced by the fact that Jhavhul has left. You woudn't have a way to open a portal to the plane of fire?"
"I know of a treassure, that could compensate you for such a service."
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If he weren't wearing a new head piece, Antarah's brow would be seen as tightly curled. He is very interested in treasure and helping a small community to return to their home would be a great way to do it. Instinctively, he says "Please, we're interested in hearing more about this. What sort of treasure and.... are there any caveats to opening this portal? Such as a particular place in the plane of fire?"
"The portal would be for us to leave, no special location needed."
"As for the treasure, Jhavhul hid it below of where the Housue of the beast stands nowadays. It's a magical artifact of great power!"
Unless there’s something else hidden away down here, Aith has a sinking feeling that she knows what their interlocutor is talking about. Worse, if these are Jhavhul’s minions … isn’t that the name of the expansionist genie in that book Antarah found? Her pistol is heavy and implausibly cold on her hip, and she’s sure it (and her mold) would have a more decided opinion if she took it in hand, but there doesn’t seem to be a way to do that without seeming very unfriendly.
She fishes for time, distraction, and details instead. Echoes of planar wars aside, if she could be sure that that’s what the scroll’s for and that using it wouldn’t be a one-and-done deal, Aith wouldn’t necessarily mind using it, but that’s an awfully large gamble even by her standards.
“I can only imagine,” she says sympathetically. “I’m trying to make my way to my own ancestral homeland, and that’s only over a few hundred miles and a sea away. Do you know what sort of thing we’d be looking for? A staff, a gate – I’ve heard stories about little portable ones? We’ll keep an eye out, certainly, and if we find a way to send you home by our own power, we’ll gladly do so. I don’t think we have the power to do so yet, unless…”
Her eyes cut to Tariq again. As a secular arcanist, it pains her to admit it, but people whose magic is powered by belief have an easier time of such spells, she knows. Something about yearning for visions of Heaven or what have you.
"Oh, do you mean an ancient scroll with a weird rune? We found it already, we were hoping you could tell us what it is!"
Tariq smiles, innocently, while Aith whispers something on his ears.
"Really? Could I?"
He turns back to the salamander. "It seems we've found a way for you to go home! But I would require some days to send you all."
Tariq is a bit disappointed that his knowledge of Ignean hasn't been of any use, but if everything ends happily, then that's fine, he thinks.
"Oh." the salamander voices his disappointment.
"Well, I don't know what it does. I only know that Shirak, a cleric in the service of Jhavhul brought it there."
"But enough of that, tell me, which way have you found to get us home to the plane of fire?"
During a short explanation from Tariq backed by a lot of magical theory from Aithaloessa explaining the workings of the spell the salamander becomes silent. He clenches his hands into fists and gnashes with his teeth. As all explanations come to an end, a awkward silence follows.
He turns around and bangs his head into the wall over and over again.
Once he gets tired of that and the headache becomes stronger than the inner pain he is going through, he stops. In a sobbing voice he claims "All these years, I could have done it myself."
Tariq pats the salamander on the shoulder, taking care not to burn himself.
"Er... I think deities haven't started granting this capability to their worshipers until quite recently. Gods are not immutable - they also evolve and make breakthroughs in their development of the divine" he says, trying to comfort his fiery colleague. "I guess."
Touching the salamander is really no good idea, as this creature from the fire plane is hot enough to light up Tariq's clothes on contact.
"Er... I think deities haven't started granting this capability to their worshipers until quite recently. Gods are not immutable - they also evolve and make breakthroughs in their development of the divine" he says, trying to comfort his fiery colleague. "I guess."
“Theoretically, it should be possible,” Aith nods, nattering on about the tolerances of various spell components. Then again, a lot of magic stays theoretical in Alkenstar, where wizards will give an arm and a leg for a tiny lab Skyside in which a good day isn’t praying that today isn’t the day a cantrip blasts the whole street with unpredictable elemental energy, and the poor sods Smokeside live and die without ever seeing the wonders of magic except when a mana storm boils up beyond the city walls.
“But it will take a while and might not be very comfortable,” she concedes.
“It probably wouldn’t take us more than a decade to do things the more usual way,” she says cheerfully, extrapolating from their adventures so far, though this way of developing magical power – learning how to channel more and more of it all at once – strikes her as even more brutal than boot camp. “Could there be some sort of impedance because it’s basically trying to banish oneself, and despite all one’s will, the nature of the spell presupposes a degree of mental resistance?”
She realizes she’s muttering weird wizard talk to herself and probably looking like she wants nothing more than to sit down with pen and paper and watch (which, true), so she quickly says, “But we’d be happy to expedite matters as best suits your needs. How many of you are there? We’ll need someplace to rest that’s not so … warm, honestly, but we can monitor and start sending you off with Tariq’s magic.”
"I can deal with that on my own. I have to talk to the others about the ramifications of that, but if we decide to go that way, we can do it on our own." Lesaar starts walking up and down, pondering these newfound options. You get the feeling you are dismissed.
"Sounds great. If, anyhow, you decide to stay, you could always check with us in the future. We would be pleased to help you once we've got the means."
Tariq checks his companions' faces, but he's sure they agree.
"Remember we're the Knights of Kelmarane and, as such, you will find about us there."
Aith schools her expression so that her disappointment at not seeing what she’s sure would be a fascinating, impressive performance of abjuration magic isn’t too visible. Maybe they’ll run into some other outsiders that need banishment before too long?
At any rate, she can take as obvious a hint as Lesaar and Tariq’s summation, and she happily retires.
Rocky escorts the knights back to the foyer. As Aithaloessa takes a turn to investigate the other parts of the cave system Rocky is too surprised to hinder her, and only calls after her "Noooo!"
This chamber smells of sulfur and is covered in serpentine trails burnt into to the very rock. Deep holes pock the stone walls, several bearing the wavering glow of natural flame.
At the far wall to the left two snake like creatures lie coiled up and burning. Another one shoots out of a hole in the wall and bites the elf, or her armor.
“No? No,” Aith agrees, taking a quick step back and hoping Rocky can call the thing off, as she belatedly remembers what the salamander leader said about a possible trade for a way back home. She certainly doesn’t mean to blunder into an off-limits vault or anything.
She skitters back as fast as she can, accepting that maybe they should just think about heading back upstairs.
"You want to talk to the leader too?" Rocky asks.
“If they’d be willing or have something they’d like to ask us about, why not?”
“Only, we’re rather cooler-blooded creatures, as you may have noticed, so we can’t just let those snakes crawl over us, if your leader’s in that direction. Unless we’re meant to prove ourselves by feats of arms?” Aith tries to undercut any suggestion of a threat by striking a travesty of a bellicose pose, an exaggeration of the way she sometimes pulls herself up to attention. (As a scrawny, and currently sweaty, poisoned elf, what’s she going to do? be pale and wan in their general direction?)
Rocky steps back, to not get hurt by the drunken performance. "First, how about another offering?"
"Second, they won't come out, and it is really hot in there. And after the offering I can tell you how to deal with the fire snakes."
Gnolls and mutants and outsiders born of fire aside, it seems they’re very much in Katapesh still. Coin talks. Which is fine, mostly. They’ve recovered a lot of loot so far, and there are always folks in need of a spell or alchemical concoction, so mages like Aith can afford to be … garrulous.
She reaches into her purse for another handful of coins to give to Rocky. “Please, continue.”
It ends up being the sort of thing she might have guessed, but then they're not creatures she's encountered before. "So what do they eat?"
She tries to either remember some oddment of lore about elemental creatures or to extrapolate from probabilities. Something hot and probably not what people like us would expect, but otherwise like giving a guard dog a treat?
Aithaloessa's mind disappears from the scene rummaging through her brains what she knows about those creatures. Immune to fire, vulnerable to cold, paralyzing poison, but almost no one cares to write down what 'monsters' eat. Pondering about the plane of fire also doesn't help, because there is no way to quickly get something from there. But also, the masters of those pets seem to have no way to contact the fire plane, so... and then the obvious strikes her like Lightning: elves. They would eat elves if they got hold of one.
At least it's a hypothesis. Rocky didn't say they wont let her past because of their guard duty, but they are hungry and would let her pass if they were not. Elves are on short supply and Aithaloessa's scientific curiosity doesn't go that far, but it's a starting point to evolve ideas.
“I’m afraid that’s probably about right,” Aith says, concluding that from the looks of it the things will just munch on flesh without being too picky. “Or we could carve up some bug steaks, which might be less alarming to see being eaten. Let’s try that.”
"Alright, whatever."
Tariq helps gathering some food for the fire snakes, following Aith's plan.
"I never thought I would witness that many weird things in the same day..."
“Well then,” Aith says, before offering, “We probably don’t all need to go, unless it would be even more tedious to wait for me to come back.”
She skips along as quickly as her poison-wracked frame allows back up to the pit before the King’s throne, and takes it out on the critter that tormented her. It seems less frightful than dragging down a dead gnoll.
It’s still not elegantly done by any stretch of the imagination, so Aith clearly has no future as butcher or restaurateur: she returns with an armful of unidentifiable chunks of bug meat to offer the snakes.
“Let’s distribute largesse. It’s not quite bread and circuses, but…”
The snakes come and attack the pile of bug meat. Besides the two coiled up at the far wall, two more come out of the holes in the wall.
With the way cleared the group can move on into this part of the cave.
Clouds of swirling steam make it difficult to see the details of this chamber. The oppressive, sulfurous-smelling vapor quickly flows from two thick, bubbling pools of mud upon the floor, rising to the cracked ceiling, filling the cavern with a roiling, ghostly haze.