Huxwren turns their attention to the webbing on Drusilla instead of trying to reach the spider on the ceiling.
Snick! Snack!
Drusilla struggles against the spider bonds, and Huxwren bravely dashes to her side to try to cut her free. The spider was waiting for an opening though, and it bites down toward Huxwren as quick as a flash.
They make it to Drusilla's side and begin cutting through her bonds as quickly as they can. The pulsing of their heart in their ears as the poison makes its way around their body is very distracting, and before they've finished sawing through the bonds Drusilla tears free on her own. Luckily the poison seems to have had little effect.
Grunyak lands another blast, burning a little more of its touch exoskelteon away, but Taariik presents himself as the clear danger as he grows to proportions much more threatening to the spider. The weight of his new blade takes a little getting used to and his first swing is off target, but the spider has taken notice.
Focused on Taariik as it is it barely notices the ball of flame until its too late, but it stays focused despite the obvious pain and this time bites at Taariik, turning its whole body to face this new threat. Its legs thunk into the stone ceiling and sending small stones cascading down on the heads of the pathfinders as it rotates.
Its bite strikes only air, though Taariik can feel flecks of poison from its fangs spatter his face as it's just inches away. It screams in fury at the pain and the confusion, and prepares for another strike.
...
Drusilla
Eldrin
Huxwren
Grunyak
Taariik
Blue Spider
Red Spider
Grunyak steps out of range of the huge spider's bite and enchants some of his sling bullets. Taariik meanwhile regrips his sword, getting used to his new size and its new weight. He puts both hands on the hilt and lunges with all his might. The huge spider has nowhere to go, and its thick exoskeleton is not enough to protect it against the force of Taariik's blow.
As Taariik pulls he sword free, the spiders legs reflexively contract and it falls from the ceiling, landing atop Huxwren and Drusilla in a mess of ichor and legs and hair.
A stray leg as thick as a tree trunk whips into Huxwren who doesn't manage to move out of the way quick enough, it catches them on the shoulder and sends them sprawing. Drusilla though deftly steps back just in time.
Taariik
Blue Spider
Red Spider
Drusilla
Eldrin
Huxwren
Grunyak
A short distance further south, some 400 feet or so overall, you come across an archway leading back toward the city, lit with torches. A small staircase ascends some 15 feet and terminates at a locked portcullis, which is shrouded by velvet curtains on the other side so you can't see in (without poking through).
”Can spiders impale themselves on their f*cking mandibles and all die in extreme agony as their innards are liquified?” Huxwren answers rhetorically, rubbing the freshly-healed hole in their shoulder. ”If so, they should get on that right away and save the rest of us the trouble of doing it for them.”
After grunyak sees to the party's wounds, Huxwren steps up to the portcullis and while muttering angry insults about spiders, easily releases the simple iron mechanism and removes the lock. Drusilla and Taariik then manually lift the portcullis. You can hear chain links pooling on the other side. When it's lifted all the way Huxwren can reattach the lock and keep it open that way, though it's putting a lot of stress on the lock; you suspect that it has a winch on the other side that's probably designed to take the weight when locked open.
Pushing apart the curtain, Drusilla sees a small room. Flanking the portcullis are two cobwebbed covered mannequins dressed as robed cultists. There are hooks lining the walls from which dozens of olive green robes hang, much like the one that Greeley wore. There is a door opposite (to the south) and another to the east.
Before anyone can move in however, Eldrin calls a halt, casting a simple divination and pointing out that the mannequins are emanating magic.
Both statues have a moderate aura on them.
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Eldrin stairs at the statues intently for some time. Carefully examining the web of magic woven about them.
"There seems to be a magical trap here. Passing between those statues will trigger it. But, I think if we touch each statue on the hand it should prevent it from going off."
"If we trigger it, some sort of creature will be summoned. Probably something decidedly unpleasant."
”Do I look like a wizard?” Huxwren crosses their arms and shakes their head. ”But maybe we can takes some of these fancy cloaks when we pass through there, blend in with the local crowd.” They scan the walls for a cloak not twice their height.
Huxwren sees several cloaks sized for smaller folks, including some that are wide enough for one of Grunyak's build and others that would be more appropriate for halflings or gnomes.
Grunyak examines the mannequins but sees no slots for the spider leg or anything else. Taariik reaches out to press the first hand, and as he does he notices that the cobwebs are clear around it so its possible to touch the hand easily. He touches the first hand then the second, and then tentatively steps through...
There is complete silence as Taariik steps through and everyone listens for some sort of reaction, but nothing happens and you're all able to pass through into the room beyond by repeating the procedure that Eldrin described.
There is a winch in the corner around which a length of chain is pooled , the wooden door to the east looks warped and stuck.
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we can use whatever tactic to get the upper hand with these guys. They uses their drug as a chemical slavery, and thats a big "No." to followers of the Divine Drunk. Beside, they surely have nefarious plans. Anyone who uses spiders that big as guardians can't be a good guy. Or sane. We'll need to bluff, lie, deceive our way in, Taarik, I hope this isn't abhorrent to your faith?
Then I am asking to someone who got trained in poisons.. They don't do paladins as they used to, back in my day.
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Taariik is in thoughts after Dru’s comments.
”The paths of a paladin of the master of masters has many options to take. I have to admit that my ninja training even included some areas that I believed to be distasteful but nonetheless had to learn! I am willing to support for the greater good! But I will not make the mistake I did last time ... “ he says with some grief.
”So I am with you and will try to support with what Irori gave me. All I have to offer to make your plans work!“
Taariik takes about 20 minutes to make an effort to make everyone blend in, making sure your robes hang just as Greeley's did, and advising you on how to hold yourselves, keeping your hood up and so forth.
When he's done everyone looks fairly plausible, as the robes themselves are doing the lion's share of the work, but everyone can see that Taariik's disguise is a bit thin. His bright colourful hair isn't entirely covered by the hood and it's still clear that he's ifrit. It's possible that there's another ifrit in the brotherhood, but it's unlikely and likely to draw attention, while humans, dwarves, halflings and elves are probably common members.
During that time you aren't disturbed, and you all get a chance to listen to the quiet.
Although very quiet, Drusilla picks up sounds of low voices talking coming from the south east, sufficiently muffled to be mostly unintelligible, but she does make out a few snippets, some of which even sound useful:
"...down to the presbytery..."
"...your turn to let the spider-eater out tonight..."
To the east, everyone save Taariik (who is concentrating on disguises apparently) hears the occasional disturbing chitter, skittering and thrumming noises, somewhat like insects but with enough differences to be disquieting.
Iroran paladins meditate on self-perfection and train relentlessly, knowing that their example can inspire others to excel.
An Iroran paladin embraces law and goodness as other paladins do, conducting himself with honor and protecting the innocent.
An Iroran paladin avoids entanglements that would distract him from the pursuit of perfection, i.e. he would not incur debts nor give loans to others—though he could be encouraged to give freely to those in need.
Irori offers no universal paladin code— each paladin in his service creates his own code as part of his spiritual journey, seeing the adherence to such a self-formulated creed as one of the many tests one must face to reach perfection.
—
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"They can't use that East door regularly. It looks stuck. I think we should go South and attempt to blend in." "Though Taariik, I do believe you are not going to be very convincing as a cultist. Perhaps you could follow in the rear." "We are not sneaking, we are cultist coming to work." "It should at least get us in the room."
Grunyak moves to lead. "I can go first. I have eyes for the dark too." "Any thoughts before we go bust some heads?"
"If only we had a wizard who could make Flame-Boy invisible." Huxwren jerks their head at Taariik. "That'd sure be useful."
Eldrin makes Taariik invisible and Grunyak opens the door to the south. He finds a crossroads of stairways and hallways, permeated by the scent of stale smoke. To your right when you step out of the door is a spiral staircase going up, made of dark richly stained wood. Straight ahead is a coridoor with 3 doors leading off it and some crates stacked up, and to your left is a parlor where a moth-eaten rug stretches before a fireplace surrounded by a beautifully carved mantle and an ornate but unstocked bar.
In the parlor are three robed cultists, dressed much as you are in olive green robes, save that they each have a spider-leg sickle. A woman with a sneer on her face and in her words steps forward and addresses you.
"What's this, we weren't expecting more acolytes. Do you seek entry to the Presbytery?"
She peers at you as if trying to remember any of your faces.
”Of course,” Huxwren answers smoothly. ”Brother Greely sent us - did he not tell you we were on our way?” They shake their head and scowl. ”Typical. But yes, the Presbytery.”
The cultist looks visibly relieved.
"Greeley hasn't returned to us since the incident with Nahum's ritual. Mog-Lathar's divine grace is our only protection against the nightmare war, and people whisper of Greeley's lack of faith. You should tell him to come home when you see him next."
As she's speaking she leads you to the south-eastern corner of the room, down some impressive carved wooden stairs and into a large gallery. A comfortable fireplace flickers without warmth, and a moth-eaten rug hosts equally moth-eaten furniture. Rotting frames filled with tattered canvas cover the walls. The looming stone facade of the Old Wall compreises the room's western wall, and a cage-like elevator structure is built into the northwestern corner.
Four gang-members dressed similarly to the ones you defeated at Greeley's hideout lounge around on the old furniture as you enter, but they quickly jump up and make a show of unloading crates when the cultist enters. You see opposite where the stairs end an archway into a beautiful temple with a stone floor.
The cultist starts leading you toward the elevator cage in the corner, seemingly expecting you to step into it. She points to one of the gang members and says
"You, man the crank."
To Huxwren, she says.
"Don't forget the hand signal when you get down there. We can't afford to lose any more of the faithful"
The halfling stops partway into the elevator cage, conveniently holding the door open so any invisible people could gracefully sneak aboard. ”I don’t suppose it’s this?” Huxwren’s face twists in frustration as the halfling twists their small hands together, fingers splayed outward like a spider’s legs. ”What else didn’t Greeley tell me that I’m supposed to know? A nightmare war?”
The cultist holds her hand up to the gang-member who was getting ready to turn the crank for the elevator. His hand goes to his shortsword hilt, as do all the others in the room.
"Wait, Greeley didn't tell you? But you were annointed here before the great Mog-Lathar, the High Priestess should have showed you the signal. What is her name?"
She peers deeply at Huxwren as she says this.
As Huxwren offers their splayed fingers, the cultist stops and holds up her hand to the gang-member approaching the crank. His hand drops to his shortsword, as do the others, and suddenly the room is filled with tension.
The cultist peers into Huxwren's eyes, waving off the contributions of the others as irrelevant. Suddenly she makes a decision and relaxes her posture. The gang-member resumes grabbing the crank and the cultist adjusts Huxwren's fingers.
"Oh for Mog-Lathar's sake. Like that, but point your index fingers"
You're all ushered into the elevator.
Taariik slips in inconspicuously, his plate-mail being mercifully quiet for once, and the whole thing suddenly shudders and jerks as the crank is turned. It takes around a minute for you to be lowered, and eventually a long tunnel comes into view.
Wispy spiderwebs hang like curtains along the walls, their bottoms stained from wicking dirty water from the slippery floor below. The tunnel extends some 200 feet or so due north, in the direction of the ocean, and you can see off in the distance a source of light and echoey sound. Water drips down the stone and pools in shallow puddles.
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Well, I thought we would have to fight these goons, for a moment. That was close, I guess, and now we might have to fight them on our way back.
Dru looks at the water dripping, and let a few drops fall in the palm of her hand, before tasting it with the tip her tongue
Salty, just as I thought. We are under the sea..
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"I did not appreciate the water bug thing Greeley sicked on us, nor did I like those overgrown spiders we just fought." "What is next? Why do we need a hand signal to go to the church? These people are plumb crazy."
Grunyak continues to grumble and unconsciously scratches his bald head by moving his helmet around on it.
"I got an axe and could not even get close enough to use it." "Had to squirt the things."
You move cautiously down the tunnel, making the hand sign as shown. As you get closer, you can hear a droning sound like a number of people praying in a vaguely musical fashion, and it becomes clear that the end of the tunnel up ahead is a larger chamber with a number of people in it.