With the sturdy assistance of Hydrand, Andras manages to clamber back up the rock face, the trumpet safely shoved in his pack. Back at the top, he notices Hydrand looking intently at the cloak, and laughs.
Hydrand, you just need to ask! It is a fine cloak indeed. It'll suit you.
He passes the cloak to Hydrand, and worriedly looks down at Hokey, clambering back up behind him, her cloven hooves doing her no favours.
While he keeps an eye on Hokey, he asks around about the tools that he found. Awful looks especially shifty at the sight of them, and Andras suspects that he knows exactly what these are.
Awful, what are these things I found? I have no use for them. You can have them if you'd like.
It's early afternoon when you arrive at the cave entrance. The cave entrance has a foul smell wafting out from it. It's adorned with stacked rocks, effigies, fetishes, and more, all giving strong evidence that this is the cave. Tired from the trek, You stop for lunch and to take a breather before deciding what to do next.
Bertram is turning his new copper penny between his fingers as the group takes a rest. It had been a miserable trek, but here they sit! What to do now?
"Are we going to camp out here until nightfall? It would give us a chance to recover from the climb. I know camping so close to a sacred bear's lair isnt so appealing, but a few of us havent fared the climb well. Way I see it, we can attack the creatures cave tired, or we can wait till nightfall. If the beast let's us sleep we can fight it rested. If it attacks, well we were tired anyway and now it's on our terms. I say we wait till nightfall."
Hokey stuffs all the goods into the pack. She's not sure why, but she quickly takes a shine to the doll and also packs it. Awful and Bertram empty the pack and look like they're trying to help, but Hydrand steps in and actually helps Andras climb up.
You can always count on Hydrand.
The rope gets lowered and Hokey gets on the pack. Hydrand begins to pull the rope up, but Hokey slips and loses her grip on the rope.
"Ah." Not again.
As Hokey begins to fall, the doll suddenly flips over from inside the pack onto Hokey's hand. Hokey somehow manages to grab the pack and gets safely hoisted up by Hydrand.
Did I feel it grab me? ... Is it...staring at me?
It must have been the adrenaline of the near death experience that made her think the doll's head wasn't bobbing with the rest of its body, positioned to look back at Hokey.
Once Hokey was safely on the path, she gathers up her equipment when Bertram mentions being a torch bearer. She happily gives Bertram the torch and tinderbox and opts to carry the doll with her back to where Erik was. Everyone gathers to discuss plans.
"We should rest. Bertram and Erik are tired and could use it. Let's set up a bit further on, off the path. I think it can only help."
"Just tools, Andras, for the unsavory. I'll make use of them. A simple sword won't do you much good if you're stuck behind a locked door, will it?"
Awful says, waving off Andras' assumptions.
=========================
He sighs at the thought of spending more time on the cliffs, near a beast's den, than is absolutely necessary.
"Great, well seeing as I left all my s+~% with Hi-yah, that'll be just the best.
I'll add that, even though we are going into a cave and it will be dark, at least we would be fighting a beast with sure footing and not on a cliff's edge."
Noticeably irritated, yet still sporting a disquieting grin, Awful shoves his hands into his pockets and trudges.
"Whatever, I'm going to go take a look in the cave then. I doubt there's even a f+#@ing beast in there. Probably a damn squirrel or something stupid anyway."
Andras looks pensive at the idea of a rest, but seeing Hokey's injuries, and Erik's persistent shivering from his icy-cold dip in the waterfall, he doesn't say anything.
I hope that lady's brother will be OK. We cannot waste too much time. But there could be anything in that cave. Nothing good nor holy smells like that...
He helps out where needed, setting up camp. The heat should at least dry the clothes of the soaked companions. Once the chores are done, he wolfs down some hard tack and salted pork from his rations. Wiping his hands on his britches, he then checks his equipment, making sure his shield strap is securely fastened, and that his scabbard is well oiled. He sharpens his sword, noticing that it's looking somewhat worse for wear.
Going to need to repair my gear soon... I'm basically clothed in rags. What would my family think?
He grabs his shaving kit, and heads back to the waterfall, and looks at his reflection. Ever since that ... incident ... with the boar, his stubble has been growing faster. He only shaved yesterday, and already there's the hint of a beard. He dips his razor in the flowing waters, and begins to make himself presentable again. A scraggly beard does not befit a noble.
As the others mill around, he idly watches Awful fidget and sulk, and is glad he didn't tell the strange grinning boy about the trumpet. He is reassured by Hydrand's impassive form, standing ever vigilant over them while they rest.
Erik's hands shake at the cold despite his best effort to still them. He sets down his back and begins to set up a small but usable camp. Clothes that he can go without are hung or laid out on nearby rocks to dry in the heat where they can. Much like Andras, he checks over his weapons and equipment carefully to ensure that his gear was good and maintained. The militia drilling had not failed him in that aspect, his father's axe was still sharp and dangerous. At the cave's mouth, all he can hope is whatever lurks inside remains dormant or that his comrades alert him as soon as they can if whatever is inside comes out.
As you rest for the night, Awful decided to scout ahead. Andras tries to peak in as the awful little man goes in, but it's so black it's hard to see more than the a meter or so. The cave entrance is humid. The air is so thick that it's almost misty inside, with moss and other plants growing so thickly that they're dripping off the ceiling like living stalactites. Combined with the scent of rotting flesh, it does not seem like a place you want to enter.
Meanwhile, the rest of you relax in the afternoon sun. The sky isnt as hazy up here; you're above most of the smokey haze blanketing the lands where the fire still burns.
Examining your new found supplies, Andras notices that the trumpet has a small button on the side.
Erik and Bertram empty their packs and lay out all their clothing to dry before trying to rest. Hydrand admires his new red cloak vestments.
It's not long before Awful is back.
The day passes uneventfully and everyone is able to recover. When Hokey wakes up, she finds the doll snuggled in her arms.
Andras found it very difficult to rest, what with Awful's complaining, and his own apprehensions, and just lay on his bedroll, trying to relax.
As soon as it looked like Erik, Hokey and Bertram were able to get back up to form, he quickly jumped to his feet, preparing to go and packing up his things in record time.
Let's go. We're as ready as we ever can be. We'll need some torches most likely. Unless we want to try to sneak ahead...
He paces impatiently while he waits for the others.
"Not a chance in any of the hells. There is just no way."
Awful walks into the camp, arms folded and still trudging.
"I was in there for all of 5 minutes and I..." He pulls his shirt to his nose and sniffs it. "I still smell like rotting flesh."
He sits towards the middle of where everyone is gathered but so he's able to see everyone well enough.
"As soon as I stepped into that cave a wall of decaying-flesh-smell just blasted me in the face. That place is rotting, and the stench alone was damn near overwhelming.
It's also as humid as the Demon Lord's anus in there. The air is so thick there's practically a fog.
Moss and other s%+*'s growing everywhere, just everywhere.
By the time I got to the end of the tunnel thing, it was barely wide enough for me to pass. I managed to squeeze through the plants and s~~* and could see that the cave takes a sharp as f&#~ turn to the left and downwards... Into the mountain!
I'm talkin' like a 30-degree incline, and it's a slippery as all hell because of the plants and s&*&!... and the moisture!
I tried to see how far the f$!#in' thing went, but I was not about to get in there, so I threw some rocks... Didn't help at all cause the f%!*in' plants and s%%$ kept them from echoing back. Those f!@#in' plants... This is all a bunch of h@!%~*!~& if you ask me."
Hydrand dons his new digs after examining them at length through the night. He does some pacing about and exploring with his limbs to be sure it's not restricting, and then he sits back down feeling more like a person than he had before.
It's odd, but I almost feel warmer now I'm clothed... Some comforts from my humanity remain, it seems.
He keeps a vigilant watch over the sleeping forms of his comrades, but blessedly nothing comes to pass during their rest. He feels vicariously invigorated as everyone begins to stir, and he himself goes over his equipment one last time before everyone mounts up to march back to the cave not far away.
He stands near Awful and opens a conversation:
"So, quite the smell, then? Could you describe it for me? I seem to be lacking the necessary equipment to really experience it for myself."
He lets some mirth creep into his voice as he goads Awful some. Hopefully keeping up some banter can take the edge off, he thinks.
Although, how big can this beast be if the cave is so tight as Awful says?
The thought plagues him as everyone makes their way to the entrance.
He summons some magic to his fingertips as an exercise, and thinks over some contingencies for how things might go in there.
The warm weather is welcome as Bertram's clothes dry. The mountainside view would be quite pleasant as well if not for the circumstances. The sleep does Bertram good and he awakens fresh and ready. He dons his newly dry clothes, taking time to check his gloves and coin pouch. Bertram gives his new penny a flip for good luck just in time for Awful to return.
"Good work, Awful. We know the entrance is clear. The creature hasn't set traps or an ambush. That is more than we started with." Bertram mulls the new information for a minute while Awful continues his complaints. He observes the nervous faces of his companions. He can see the hesitance at the idea of what they were about to do. It wasnt every day someone stole a sacred artifact from a sacred beast.
The longer the thought the more a frustration boiled to the surface. This adventure had been pure madness. Bertram had never felt as helpless and ineffective as he had these past three weeks. His efforts repeatedly unraveled before him. Now seemed a chance to do something about it. Bertram speaks up.
"Awful, you've gone and done the dangerous part yourself. No one had to ask you. Seems fair I offer to lead the way into the cavern. Yes, we are still going in, Awful. The best I've offered in three weeks is saving Sir Belaras, and he got thrown off a roof."
Bertram checks his gear quickly.
"We know how far we can go safely. I'll lead with a torch up to this crack Awful mentioned and go first. The rest of you can follow after I reach the bottom. Just give me a weapon to fight with first. A sling isnt very useful in the dark. Anyone have a dagger?"
Andras draws his dagger from its sheath and passes it to Bertram.
This is all I have aside from my sword.
He follows behind Bertram, eyes darting here and there as the torch lights the way ahead.
Bertram lights up the torch and you all approach the cave entrance. The foul air pressed up against your body like a wall. As you enter, the plants and thick moss hang down from the ceiling and cover the walls and the ground, although the ground is slightly trampled. The foul air is humid, causing you to instantly sweat.
As Awful described, the passage goes in about ten yards, getting thinner and lower as you go in, to the point where you have to duck. The plants on the walls press up against you. At the end of the tunnel, the cavern makes a sharp left and goes for about a yard before it starts to descend. The descent is as steep as a staircase without the steps, and it feels slippery.
Erik woke up early in the morning, a habit that he couldn't seem to get rid off even weeks later now. With Andras's rope and his own, he began the tiresome work of tying knots at foot and a half increments. The dry rope made his own hands crack painfully but the determined warrior continued to work on his task even as Awful came out and gave his report. The cave reeked of death, a warning to interlopers that they didn't belong. It didn't matter though, the Savage Ornament laid somewhere inside of the cave itself and beyond this guardian. At least he would die in dry clothes if the worst came to past.
Dressing in his soft leather armor, Erik adjust his armor and weapons and took what was most important; a lantern with two vials of oil, a tinderbox, his torches, and the long, knotted rope. Bertram volunteered to go first and it earned a nod of respect from the young man who finally rose from the dusty soil.
"We get as close as we can to the crack and find a good place to rig the rope. Then we descend slowly and safely." Maybe people died falling in and slipping downwards towards their deaths. With the torch lit, Erik would follow beside Andras as they made their way into the dark, fetid cave's mouth.
"Yeah, alright. Lets find something to tie the rope off to and you can lower me. I'll give a couple of tugs when I reach to the bottom."
Bertram secures one end of the rope around his waist while his companions search for an anchor.
"Keep a good grip, Hydrand. I... I don't want to hurdle off a ledge at the end of this."
One foot carefully on the slippery ground, then the next, and another...
Bertram starts going down the tunnel. You hear some echoes of curse words and swearing bounce back up the cave, but then nothing else. Time passes. More time passes. You've heard nothing from Bertram for a long while.
Despite his efforts, the slickness of the tunnel takes the feet out from under Bertram. He begins to slip and slide down the chute with bits of vegetation snagging at his clothes. Fortunately, he is prepared for this inevitable situation. He drops the torch and pulls the dagger that Andras had loaned him before he can pick up too much speed. He guides himself with the rope and controls his speed with the dagger by hooking into the vegetation that sprouts in the slide.
Finally, the Dwarf finds himself at the end of the slide. The chute lets out as a hole in the middle of a wall. There is no floor beneath the hole. Instead, is a yawning, 5 yard deep pit with wooden and bone spikes protruding from the bottom. Bodies are impaled below. Bertram's torch is resting down there as well. Despite the water, the pit does not appear flooded. The plants growing on the walls are cut before they descend too deeply into the pit.
To the left of the opening is a wall, the end of the tunnel. There is no floor here to traverse. Directly across from Bertram is the opposite tunnel wall. It looks like anyone who comes out of the chute hits the wall and tumbles down into a grisly end. Glancing to the right, Bertram spies the ledge of the pit trap and the tunnel continuing beyond. There is a bundled rope ladder that can be dropped into the pit. The ledge is about 2-3 yards from the opening of the chute.
Bertram covers his nose at the stench. What a foul way to die. He takes a moment to quickly check his immediate vicinity before continuing. One trap could always mean more after all.
Traps? And ones that are checked. I don't like that implication.
He spies the severed plants as well.
Bastard doesn't want em climbing back out. Alright. Maybe it's time to try something new. I hope this works.
Bertram carefully removes the orb from his pouch. He handles the glass as though he does not entirely trust this thing he is about to invoke. He feared the witch may see him through it. But what was the purpose of his deal if not to make use of his power?
Bertram clears the mists in the ball and mutters words of power to himself. A silvery glow covers his fingertips. Bertram opens his eyes and smiles excitedly. He gently stows the orb again, but the glow remains on his fingers. Gingerly, he reaches into the stone slide, hoping to find it soft like clay. Then he can furrow some handholds for his allies as they come down. Hopefully the maniacs would be patient while he solved this danger.
I'll carve these out, then make my way along the wall to the ladder. If I'm lucky, I can climb down and break those spikes too.
The stone walls give. Bertram utters an excited gasp and then gets to work eagerly. He fashions a number of hand and footholds down the slide, as well as a small stop platform for his allies to arrive at. That should help to prevent them from falling into the pit itself as long as they are careful. He then carves a few grab points in the walls for slowing. Finally, he very carefully creates hand and foot holds on along the wall to the pit ledge with the rope ladder.
Bertram looks proudly at his handiwork before lowering the rope ladder bundle down. He watches it unfurl, keeping an eye out for rot in the ropes. Assuming the ladder is safe, he climbs down into the pit, holding his breath. He breaks the wooden spikes at the bottom as best as he can, but the bones are too durable for his efforts. Finished, he climbs back up to give the rope two solid tugs to signal the others. He would have to simply trust his companions to make wise choices and come down carefully.
Bertram quietly mutters a prayer for Awful, then yanks twice.
"Carefully now, and one at a time. Theres a spiked pit at the bottom. Grab the hand holds." Bertram tries to call softly up the chute. He is not sure his voice will reach them without shouting. He then moves out of the way to wait at the ledge.
Finally, after a significant amount of time passes, you feel the rope tug.
Hokey gets up early and stretches the gentle soreness still left in her muscles from yesterday's tumble. She curiously finds the doll in her hand as she does so.
Huh...I thought I put her by the wall with the other stuff. Guess I grabbed her, at some point.
Hokey quickly gets some rations out and eats it before going off on her own to perform her morning rituals of prayer, followed by meditation, and, today, preparing for battle.
Hokey gathers the magical energy around her to help her cast more effectively. She had learned the importance of casting consistently during their last adventure, when she had put everyone, including herself, at risk. The magic didn't gather well under Hokey's control, but this was her first time casting this spell: the next attempt would go better.
Hokey tentatively experiments casting her magic under these new conditions with her most familiar magic, first. She tries to gather even more of the surrounding magic before casting a particularly enduring Arcane Shield. She barely succeeds, but shakes in excitement and sweat as she discovers how easy it was to cast with the surrounding stablized magic.
I could get used to this. Is this what using magic normally feels like? I was right to take inspiration from the way Hydrand casts.
Emboldened by this result, she immediately begins to grow ambitious.
Hokey's heart soars with the results of her experiments. The magic had never been easier to manipulate before. It worked with her instead of against her, for once.
Don't get too excited. It's only a small, but firm, step. The first of many.
Hokey comes back brimming with magic and ready for battle. She looks sharper, as if her mind is completely focused on the task at hand.
Everyone moves into the cave, Erik with a knotted rope and Bertram with a freshly lit torch. Bertram volunteers to go down first and Hokey sends him off with a worried, but understanding nod: she understood his sentiments and had been working on herself for that reason, herself.
Hokey sees the rope tug and proceeds down next. She gingerly steps on the first two steps Bertram generously created before growing a bit more confident that she wouldn't slip, even then. She makes it safely to the bottom, eyes constantly scanning the dark recesses of the cave for any movement. She tugs on the rope to let everyone at the top know she was down.
Andras decides to take his turn after Hokey and Bertam, reassured by the confident pulls on the rope. The stench and the darkness are oppressive, giving Andras the feeling he is trapped, but the rope acts as an anchor for his sanity.
He feels himself slip and slide, his clothes become covered in what he desperately hopes is mud, but he manages to keep a tight hold on the rope and controls his descent.
Minutes feel like hours, but eventually he reaches the bottom, his feet touching solid rock, and he hears the familiar and reassuring sound of Hokey's cloven hooves, clicking and clopping on the rock next to him.
He whispers in the general direction of the sound.
I can't see a damn thing... Should we light another torch? I have some in my pack.
The time Awful went down the rope, getting very creative with the curse words he was using, the rope had become wet with the moisture in the air and from everyone's hands.
By the skin of his teeth, he made it down safely. Slipping several times, and falling at the end. His quick reaction time was the only thing that kept him from hurtling to an untimely death.
"..........F#&%ING HELL."
Erik watches and waits patiently at the top, the all-consuming darkness taunting him with its silence. At long last though, the rope was tugged in his hand and an honest smile spread across his lips. "He made it."
The next to go was Hokey, followed by Andras, then Awful, and each one made their way down into the darkness before disappearing out of sight. Rather than worry about what could be awaiting them in the dark, Erik double checked his equipment and made sure everything was as secured as possible before he grabbed onto the rope and began to descend.
"See you at the bottom." Erik murmured to Hydrand as he went slowly, carefully, using the rope as a guide for his hands while his feet began to find footholds to sink into. It seemed that this was not as precarious as he imagined it would be.
Hydrand watches the cave entrance while the last of the party make their way down. Erik being the last to go, Hydrand feels a tug on the rope.
Little did he know, that was Erik getting stuck, not Erik reaching the bottom.
He finds secure footing and begins to clamber down. It's not difficult, and he's able to lean into it without issue. It's nearly halfway down that the wetness of the cave catches him by surprise. Between the moisture on the rope and his metal hands, Hydrand loses his grip.
f$#%.
Having been leaning into the rope and rappelling down backwards, Hydrand immediately launches into a backwards slide. Unable to find the rope again in the darkness, he throws his hands and feet out to the sides in a feckless attempt to slow himself.
Then he arrives at Erik.
He crashes into him bodily, dislodging him from where he was stuck and substantially slowing in the process. With Erik as a cushion, Hydrand finishes his journey to the bottom of the slope and comes gently to a stop at the feet of his comrades. He gets up, shrugs himself off, and helps Erik to his feet.
"Sincerest apologies, Erik. Are you hurt?"
He checks Erik over and finds that there is blood staining the back of his shirt where he slide down the slope. Further inspection shows it's not any dangerous injury, just a cut and some scrapes.
He goes to take a step and nearly trips...
...over a pile of rope at the bottom of the shaft. He picks it up and says, "Erik, you didn't happen to have a good grip on the rope when I collided with you... did you?" as he runs the rope through his hands and finds that both ends are down here with the party and no longer secured at the top of the shaft.
"Woops."
One by one, you slide down the slippery slope in an effort to discover the fabled Savage Ornament. Unfortunately, this slide was a trap designed by someone. The bottom of the slide shoots you out of a wall to be slammed against another wall on the opposite side. Dazed by the impact, you fall backwards into a spiked pit to settle in next to the other rotting corpses that have fallen prey to the same trap.
Fortunately, Bertram was able to prevent this from happening. He somehow managed to modify the bottom of the shute, making it so you stop just before being propelled out. Then he created hand and footholds to allow you to climb along the wall perpendicular to a ledge off to the side of the pit. There's a rope ladder coiled up at the top of the ledge which can be used to gain access to the spiked pit below. All of the wooden spikes have been broken and moved away, making it less likely for someone to be impaled on them in the future. The remaining spikes are made of hardened bone. Or perhaps very large teeth.
The rotten smell is obviously coming from this pit. The humidity is still near 100%.
Whoever maintains this pit is still active. Someone still lives down here.
The tunnel continues into the darkness.
Hokey takes the torch and tinderbox from Andras as he sticks his hands out towards her general direction.
"Alright, I'll get it lit. Hold on...There. If you've got more, we should get at least one more lit so we don't lose our light when we lose a torch to some water, or whatever is making it so muggy." Hokey says as she hands back the tinderbox.
As they come across the trap and obvious signs of maintenance, Hokey immediately casts Arcane Sight to detect any magical traps or items.
An arcane mote fizzles near Hokey's head, illuminating the cave for a brief flash of light, as she concentrates arcane energy around her eyes.
"Alright, I'll watch for magical traps and hold onto this torch, since I don't have any weapons. Let's go; my magic won't last forever."
Hokey doesn't see any signs of magical traps, however, the trumpet, the red cloak vestment, and the lockpicks all have a shimmer of magic.
The tunnel continues into the mountain; wide enough to stand two of you abreast. The tunnel itself is clean and uncluttered. If not for the smell, which grows stronger with each passing step, it would be hard to believe anything even inhabited the space.
The tunnel ends at a large, round room. The only exit, which stands on the far side, is completely blocked by the monstrous, melting flesh of a dragon’s head. At its largest point, the head is about 10 yards tall and 6 yards wide. You can make out the Beast’s long snout, eyes, and the horned crest at the top of its head. It looks as if it was beautiful once - some of its scales remain, still shining in sapphire and smalt, and the very tips of its horns are ivory sheened, but now, the creature rots and despairs.
Its decaying maw has been sewn shut many times with crisscrossed ropes turned blue-black by blood and time. Wires encircle its snout and sink into the soft flesh. Both slitted nostrils are propped open with structures made of wood and bone. The skin is ripped and ragged around the holes, dripping with mucus. Worn, gunk-coated ladders lead up to them. At the base of the Beast’s horns are signs of them having been cut away, hatcheted out in big chunks or carved upon with weird symbols and drawings. One eye has been hollowed out, creating a tunnel that leads into blackness. The other is closed.
"Why does it feel like that thing can see me?" Bertram grumbles to the others. The black void of the socket follows the Dwarfs every move, or so it seeks to him. The darkness of it chills the blood. Bertram can almost see the shadows closing in around them from the edges of his vision. "Some divine beast. This cant be it."
Seeing things. Am I getting paranoid already? Or maybe something else is going on around here
"I dont like this. Those traps were being kept after and the bodies ransacked. Someone is profiting off of this. Hell, the whole town could be involved for all we know. What do you all think? One person? A few? The whole population?"
Eventually he looks back to the bored out eye. His success at the slide emboldens Bertram before the dragon. He steps up with his orb to inspect the socket and the path beyond.
"This has worked out so far. I wouldnt mind more scouting, but I can lead the way with a torch. I'm relying on you two to be behind me for cover if we run into whoever's setting up traps." He nods to Andras and Erik. Given a few moments while the party investigates this place, Bertram decides to inspect some of the remaining scales on the Dragon's face. He has heard a Dragons hide was supposed to be invulnerable.
Andras nods grimly, shield in hand and sword loosened in its scabbard.
Looks like these are all quite recent. I'm staying on my guard, don't worry. Lead the way.
He keeps an eye out for anything unusual as he follows behind Bertram.
As Erik makes his way down the rope, his foot becomes stuck in a crevice hidden by moss. Unable to let get free, he ends up jostling the rope which comes through as a tug. A few moments later, he hears the sound of something quickly approaching him before Hydrand's mechanical ass dislodges him forcefully from the rope. The two come quickly down the slide, crashing into the stone barrier that Bertram had made which saved their lives. A grunt of pain escaped Erik as Hydrand's elbow bruised his ribs but he was no worse for wear.
"I'll be fine." The youth grumbled, slowly extricating himself from the tangled pile. Hydrand nearly tripped again on the pile of rope that had collected nearby. A frustrated sigh left Erik as he gathered up whatever rope was left before quietly following behind the others.
The tunnel they traveled through finally revealed the origin of that awful, rotten stench. When paired with the heavy humidity within the cave, Erik could feel his eyes beginning to water up slowly as he let out a soft cough.
"Disgusting." He murmured, drawing his axe out and giving a nod to Bertram. He follows behind the dwarf, keeping his weapon at the ready along with his shield.
Awful gawked at the carnage in front of him. However, you couldn't tell whether he was in awe of the horror or impressed by the display. Moments pass as he sits in a trance-like state, his face contorted in confusion.
"What in the hells...?"
Awful says, sounding utterly shocked.
"As much as I'm... intrigued by killing somethin' like you, you're not really in the position to be makin' demands. Just what's in it for me?"
Awful, seemingly talking to a corpse, gazes at the sacred beast's dilapidated head with a look akin to lust. You didn't think someone could add such discomfort to the already unsettling scene.
Suddenly realizing how vulnerable they were, Awful recoils. His breathing begins to get heavy, almost hyperventilating and he starts to whip his head around looking for an exit he knows isn't there.
The moment passes quickly, but it leaves a lasting impression on the man.
Awful, I know you're a bit wrong in the head, but talking to the mutilated corpse of a dragon is a little odd, even for you.
Andras looks sideways at Awful, a mixture of concern and amusement on his face.
This place makes me very uncomfortable. I say we should press on as soon as possible. Whatever checks these traps might come back.
The humidity and the stench seem to be getting to Andras, sweat beading on his forehead, and staining his clothes.
The sight of this disgusting, terrible thing left a pit of dread within Erik's stomach. What other monstrous things lurked down here that would do such a thing and make such heinous traps? A sense of hopelessness at their situation gnawed at Erik's resolve but quickly was pushed down and away...for now.
Bertram is staring at the corpse wide-eyed. It takes him a moment to realize his hand is shaking.
The Dwarf doubles over, retching painfully as he is overwhelmed by sensation. The moment passes slowly as the assault on his senses recedes.
"No, Andras, Awful is right. I heard that voice too. This thing is... it's still alive! What is happening in this accursed cavern?"
He steps up to the rotting body, still shivering.
Imagine being trapped in a form that won't die.
"Don't torment that beast. It's had enough. Kill it, Awful. Put it out of its misery. Nothing deserves to be imprisoned in its own rotting corpse. Do it, or I will."
As you talk and discuss the horrific sight and strange visions than only some seem to be witnessing, se strange creatures appear out of the darkness.
Several of them climb out from the Beast’s nostrils. Others still simply appear from beyond the range of torch light. The creatures seem both human and created, covered in a malleable yet hard coating made of black, and brown, and green… something.
Once the creatures get into position, another climbs out from the Beast’s hollow eye, jumps down from the Beast’s snout, and bows as low as his covering allow.
Heh low, it says in a stilted voice that sounds like gravel rubbing against bark, Well come to van der hay len hall low. I am Gra gun. Are you here to make an off er ing?
Gragun stands a bit taller than the others (but that mostly seems to be because he has more layers of armor built up on his body) and he wears an ornate garb of thick woven ribbons.
Hydrand's eyes track the room as the torches illuminate the way. As the enormous corpse comes into view, he becomes fearful that they've discovered the creature, that it's going to be their end. As he marks the burial accoutrements that illustrate that the being is no longer alive, he is washed over by a sense of relief.
Looks like we don't have to fight it after all... What a blessing. Although...
He glances towards the passage behind him out of some base paranoia inspired by the sight of the dragon and the previous indications that someone may be waiting for them down here.
As he turns back to face the enormous foetid cadaver, he overhears some chatter by those adventurous enough to have approached first...
..."No, Andras, Awful is right. I heard that voice too. This thing is... it's still alive! What is happening in this accursed cavern?"
The words hit him like a truck. Hydrand suddenly had the overwhelming, oppressive awareness of this thing at the other end of the chamber. Filled with existential dread, his mind buckles as it had just three weeks prior. Hydrand brings his hands up, one to cradle his head and one to shield his vision as he sinks to a crouch and takes a moment to let the oppressiveness wash over him; to come to terms with his fear.
As he comes to, he notices that they are no longer alone in the cavern. As figures approach from the darkness, what appears to be their leader addresses them with his strange accent.
Not good. Hopefully they don't want a fight.
Hydrand slowly backs towards the corridor they entered through and puts his back to the wall to one side of the entry to secure everyone's exit and ensure he isn't surprised by any of these things.
As Hokey's eyes are covered in magic, she looks over and is surprised to find that the trumpet Andras has and the cloak that Hydrand was using were glowing.
"Hydrand, not to alarm you, but the cloak on your back is enchanted. Seems like Protection magic, which is pretty fitting. Same with your trumpt, Andras. Alchemy magic on that one."
As the group continues on, Hokey comes to a stop as the sight before her causes her to freeze.
The sustainably-harvested dragon corpse shows little of its former glory. Hokey jumped at seeing it, but was able to regain some calm when she saw it wasn't moving.
"Hehe. Scary." she simply says.
Suddenly, the one eye of the dragon flies open, glazed, but showing the full splendor of its lava-like iris underneath. It almost mesmerizes Hokey, but she catches herself. The eye gazes at her and a cascade of memories and experiences flood her mind, all of it set to the backdrop: Kill me.
The memories begin to enter Hokey's mind, but her mind finally breaks during this process. The similarities between the new experiences that were filling her mind and her own blends the two.
- She feels the hateful, patchy troglodytes begin to painfully bind her mouth
- who then become elves as they bind her limbs.
- She sees them and their hateful pointy ears invoke magic towards her whilst smiling at each other about "reaching the next phase".
- The magic fires, surrounding her, covering her, threatening to change her,
- but her eye is suddenly pierced and gouged by these awful, clawed monstrosities, crowding around her with glee.
- They begin to hollow her body out, forcing their way in to take and do what they want
- as she hears "Oh-ho! Thissill be inneressing for uss boht!"
Throughout this experience, all Hokey can really understand is the resounding sentiments of "kill me." The overwhelming despair the dragon suffered throughout the ages fills her. The hopes of a possible end to this perpetual nightmare continually die and fade out. The negative experiences and emotions work to convince her to end herself right now. But she refuses.
No. I choose my own way. No one will ever make that choice for me again.
Her thoughts begin to rally against and separate from the torrent as she grounds herself in her newfound will.
How? How do I stop this? How do I free you?
Hokey sheds a tear and murmurs, "How?", but nothing responds back, as expected. She wipes her tear and says, "No, it is alive. It doesn't want to be, but it is being kept alive."
She hands her torch to Betram and moves away from the group. She looks at her open hand and begins to focus on using her magic to bite back at these oppressors.
Then, as these same creatures from the foreign memories starts to swarm out from the dragon, she gives a smirk and a glare at the one who spoke. "Heh no" she sarcastically says, mimicking the creature's strange way of talking.
Gragun eh? Where’d you learn to speak the common tongue so well?
Andras stalls for time while keeping an eye out and trying to count how many of them there are. He looks for any advantageous terrain, or if they seem to be shying away from the light.
He laughs nervously.
Afraid we don’t know of any offering. In fact, we’re just looking for a man, must’ve come here recently... you wouldn’t have happened to see a male human come by?
Worth a shot... better get some info, take them by surprise and burn this whole terrible operation to the ground.
Erik watches in worry as some of his comrades mutter utter nonsense; there was no way that this decomposing husk of flesh was still alive, still calling out for them. Yet how many dragons had he met in his life before and how many in such a nauseating, unsettling way like this? The others outside of Andras swore they could hear it speaking to them. As the torch was passed, figures were illuminated in the darkness.
They were the mockery of man, humanoids created with some strange, unknowable material. Gripping the haft of his axe, he stepped closer beside his charge as that voice rumbled out to them.
"We should run. There are too many. We cannot-" Erik mentally silences the voice running in his mind as he whispers to the nothingness around him. "Stay close to me, Cap."
Just as Andras is asking his questions of the leader, Hokey summons a sword.
Erik whispers to Cap, who immediately flies to him and lands on his shoulder.
The creatures bare their fangs at you, which prompts Geraldd to follow Hokey's lead and draws his dagger.
You hear a clanking noise that sounds like something metal being let loose, and suddenly a giant spikes cage closes down, blocking your escape.
Gyaahhhh! the old veteran cries out as the gate lands atop him, pinning him to the ground.
Hydrand was standing with his back to the wall when he felt an unfamiliar vibration that he immediately recognized as metal on metal.
That wasn't me, it's... It's coming from the wall behind me?
Subtle audio cues indicate that whatever it is, it's above him. He takes a few steps away from the wall and glances up to see if he can make out what he felt, and just then-
creeEE
-A gate large enough to block the ten foot wide tunnel his team entered from and some of the room with it slammed to the floor. Hydrand was on the cadaver side of the gate, which meant he was in with the odd creatures and some of his friends as well.
"What are the odds we can avoid hostilities?", he says as he unlimbers his shield and mace. He summons up magical energy ready to be tapped and prepares for combat nonetheless.
Hearing a clanking sound, and the screech of tortured metal from above him, Andras steps forward, following Hydrand and the monsters. He sees the metal spikes fall down on Geraldd, and winces as the veteran is impaled.
The gate comes down suddenly and Erik instinctively takes a step back, moving out of the way of the gate as it slams down upon Geraldd. Erik immediately moves downwards to the gate, grabbing onto whatever he can as he looks towards Geraldd.
"Push! Push with everything you have!" The young warrior shouts as he puts
Hokey hears a creak from above and quickly dashes a bit forward without sparing any more time for thought. She hears more creaking and clanking as something large drops before Geraldd cries out in pain.
Hokey looks back, seeing Geraldd pinned under a spiked cage. She tries to tackle the cage off him, but doesn't seem to be able to budge it, let alone tackle it off. She moves back to the forward position.
"I'm too weak to help, but I will keep these cave parasites at bay while you guys get that done. It seems there was never a moment where this could end peacefully."
Hokey gestures to the Lead Grungle and says, "I'll give you an offering, if you give me one of yours, first."
Result: When a creature makes an attack roll against your Defense or Agility, they make it with 3 banes, and then the effect ends.
"Figures." Bertram growls. Hokey rushes past him to try and free Geraldd, but Bertram sees an opportunity.
"Knife the leader, Hokey. I'll give you some space." he hisses to her as she rushes to the fron again, then follows toward Gragun. A few words of magic make his orb swirl and the ground itself begins to crawl up Bertrams legs. Stone creeps upward to cover the Dwarf like armor from head to toe. Bertram stands a several yards from the gate now with his arms out.
"Well come on! You call this an ambush? Pathetic! Let me guess, a bunch of corpse eaters scavenging stupid villagers who fall down their hole? At least it'd explain the inbreeding. I've taken s##+s prettier than you."
"Clever... For disgusting mud people... You're lucky this gate stands between us now... Because... Unlike that dragon... You are about to die... from Natural Causes!"
Awful says this slowly, pausing regularly as he is concentrating on his hands. With magical precision and his Big Ol' Wrench, he jostles together scraps and bits from a pouch on his belt made crudely and of heavy leather.
He triumphantly holds up a small cube with a clamp haphazardly placed on one side and makes his way to the gate with purpose.
Cap flutters over to the gate to help.
"I'll help!" says the invisible pixie, pushing as hard as he can against the gate.
Geraldd pushes up from the ground, but his pain hinders him. He is still trapped underneath the large gate. Hokey and Erik also push has hard as they can.
Awful and Bertram both cast a spell, while Hydrand and Andras await for an opportunity to act.
-----------
The leader cries out, More will ing sac rif ices. Good! Co lect them!
the creatures advance towards you, fangs dripping with saliva.