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With a stride forward, Talia's first blow sweeps through the air, connecting with the zombie and knocking it's head from it's torso. Valdris watches as the zombie collapses in front of him, it's claws clasping at the wizard, but no more.
Now the tides can clean the floors of the bodies, a treat of rotten flesh for the garbage cleaners of the seas.
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With the zombies down, there doesn't appear to be a threat to the group. As you search the room, led by Dreadfang in his victorious mood looking forward to the treasures beyond, before the group gingerly moves up the second set of stairs to the highest point of the chamber. An elegantly carved figure towers over the room, combining the body of an eel with the visage of a horrifying deep‑sea fish and four grasping tentacles. The group is able to discern a mural on the walls, which with a little thought provide some details of the place.
Whoever had this section of the chambers constructed spared no expense. Whether that is because of dedication to dark powers or a flair for the dramatic is difficult to tell.
The artistry of both the mural and the statue is of the highest quality and likely cost hundreds of gold each to construct.
You can identify the mural as a depiction of Aroden raising
the Starstone and the Isle of Kortos from the depths of the
ocean.
Looking at the mural you realise that the depiction does not exactly match that famous event; the affected patch of ocean seems too small to be the island, and the figure’s left hand has barely visible webbing between the fingers.
Examining the statue you identify the statue as a depiction of Dagon, demon lord of the sea, sea monsters, and deformity.
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Dreadfang is fascinated by the statue and the mural. He knows nothing of art or history, but that doesn’t stop him from contributing to the research.
”This is Squidface the Hungry!”, he says, gesturing at the statue. ”He ruled this sewer with an iron fin, and wished to be a dragon someday!”
In a softer tone, he adds, ”...someday”
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Looking about the various rooms, Valdris seems to marvel at the statues. "These are worth quite a bit. Perhaps even a few hundred gold each. Whoever commissioned these had money."
Whilst admiring the statues, he stops at one and looks at Dreadfang, "That's Dagon. A dark being that was worshiped by demons. Lord of seas, of monsters, and deformities."
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"Ehhhh.... I like that. I'll have to mention that to the next group of Dagon worshippers I come across...."
Turning to the mural she adds," Well I'm beginning to see why Dreng sent us. That mural is of Aroden raising the this whole dam island. Why its next to a demon lord is a good question but yeah."
"Dreadfang you're all ready on your way to becoming a fine dragon "
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Whilst admiring the statues, he stops at one and looks at Dreadfang, "That's Dagon. A dark being that was worshiped by demons. Lord of seas, of monsters, and deformities."
Dreadfang’s eyes go wide. ”Ooooo!”
"Dreadfang you're all ready on your way to becoming a fine dragon "
He gives Talia a genuine smile, one without greed or malice. Then he catches himself, and scowls. ”Of course I am!”, he insists. ”The blood of Dragon Kings runs through my veins!”
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During the investigation of the area, as the group studied around the statue of the ancient god, Valdris feels the pull of magical auras. In a small recess in the statue, a discarded or forgotten pendant gives off a magical aura. Scattered behind the statue, undisturbed for maybe centuries, is an ornate bottle containing some magical liquid, the stopper sealed and complete resists the passage of time. In another corner, Talia finds a silver bowl decorated with a sea motif, though valuable, it does not make Valdris' fingers tingle with the sense of magic.
Having spent some time studying the murals and the statue, the Pathfinders return towards the broken wall, wondering whether to explore further into the chambers east, west or return with the discoveries so far. There is still another few hours before the sea will start to surge back and reclaim these chambers cutting off access to the sinking theatre, as it does twice a day.
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Marcus slowly withdraws. "True... but I'm hard pressed to imagine both being kept in such good repair simultaneously. Usually the presence of one comes along side the desecration of the other."
He ponders the significance of them as he heads towards the east, checking for danger as he goes.
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You follow Marcus as he explores the western area of the chambers, of this old forgotten unholy place. Walking through the nearest corridors you encounter various empty rooms with faded and water-marked murals that had been painted on the walls. Any objects that had been here before have disappeared, taken by thieves be they the natural tides or citizens that lined their pockets. The earthquake years ago or other natural erosion had any entrances to below sealed with boulders and stone, certainly nothing that can be excavated in the hours left.
Entering the next corridor to the east section, bits of saturated parchment, fragments of wood, and other detritus float on the surface of the two‑foot‑deep water in the room. Small niches are carved up and down the walls, each space only a few inches square but nearly a foot deep. The niches to the north are mostly destroyed by the partial collapse of the surrounding wall, and a deep crack runs at an angle across it.
To the east, a statue of a hippocampus rears up and its eyes roll back as if in pain. A trident made of a corroded metal protrudes from a wound in its side. Behind the statue on the wall are carved the words “Ex Prothex.”
Talia, holds Dreadfang on her shoulders, to keep the kobold from struggling through the clear water as they move through the corridors to the eastern chamber.
You realize the hippocampus is one of the mascots of Absalom and that “Ex Prothex” is the city’s motto, meaning “First among equals.”
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Wading through the waters, Kurnek quickly locates an airtight bone scroll tube bobbing in the water. Inside is a remarkable document: the deed to the playhouse and even some of the surrounding neighborhood. This document in and of itself does not grant rights to the property, but it can be used to make a strong case for ownership for the goblins, given the lack of current owner.
As Talia investigates the statue of the majestic horse of the oceans and Kurnek inspects the niches, together they postulate that this room probably constructed by the cult of Dagon, the room held holy scriptures and documents they wanted to protect. These documents have all been taken or destroyed over the centuries.
However Kurnek's other discovery indicates that this room as been used since those early days. The area having been the source of rumours as being used by criminals, perhaps the thieves that raided this shrine or some others could have used this as a storehouse of assorted treasures and papers the criminals wanted to keep secret. Could it be that the deeds were stolen in the past and kept hidden, who knows. Did Abadar's followers use this area as a storage area for things their owners want hidden. Mysteries remain ....
Valdris and his light, catches the rest of the party up, "That other corridor, I inspected some of the other chambers more carefully. It is my opinion that this area became the resting place for followers of Dagon or has been an area of dumping bodies in the past. I think that is why we came across those Zombies. They could have been some cults sacrificial offerings to some dark gods or just the victims of cruel criminals, who knows.... " His voice fades in thought.
................
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As you search through the corridors and chambers in this area, you splash through water, at least up to your boots. Dreadfang half walks, half swims through the area, as he feels the occasional slithering sea creatures nibble at his scales. In the torchlight, you see silver flashes in the water moving quicker than you can respond to catch them. Marcus treads on a stone, that quickly moves away. The smell of sea and seaweed seems stronger in this area.
The chambers and rooms are steeped in the darkness of cults from long ago, faded murals barely depicting images of sea monsters and other of Dagon's domain, though there are marks more recently made, scratches and dents. The walls are thick, as though their occupants required to be restrained at times for whatever dark practices occurred. Some even seem like they would entrap their occupants as prisoners.
Passing a small set of steps to the west, your light illuminates a prominent hole that has been opened in the western wall of the passage from the opposite side. Some of the bricks have crumbled and fallen, or perhaps been knocked loose, creating a small opening into a room beyond. Talia investigates, shining the torch through the aperture showing walls of the inner room show signs of having being scratched or clawed.
Taking her time to look through the hole, Talia within the room, the words “Candren’s wish” have been scratched deeply into the stone, over and over again. The air escaping the room is musty, but there seems something more that pollutes the clean smell of the sea, found in most of the corridors and chambers.
As you take in the placement of the reinforcing bars and thickness of the wall, it is difficult for anyone inside the room to chip the wall away, but the process is getting easier. You realize that an occupant within the room would be 1 or 2 weeks away from breaking out on their own.
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Marcus seems unnerved by his lack of personal intel on the subject.
"I will confess to having undertaken several studies of eldritch horrors such as Father Dagon and Mother Hydra... but none in this level of... detail. Unfortunately studies of occult magic often lead people down a rather strange path. It seems as though the folk who resided here went beyond study and into faith. If this is a cell though, then it seems as though whoever was locked away by a cult of worshipers of Dagon may be worth retrieving. Or rather, their remains and effects."
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Kurnek nods in sympathy with Marcus's consternation. "I can make neither heads nor tails of this place. Icons for different religions, artifacts of different eras, all of it mixed together in these barely accessible chambers. As for these inscriptions, my memory agrees with Talia's, First Habormaster Goodman Hugen is of House Candren. But if I recall correctly, Candren's Wish was also the name of an infamous pirate vessel, which the Chelish navy sank around fifty years ago."
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As the group discuss the origins of Candren's Wish and Talia begins to prepare to open the hole wider, a voice comes from within the enclosed chamber. "You ask of Candren, who or what he or they are. I can help, but I need to be released first. Will you help?"
Turning to look inside the hole, Talia and Dreadfang see a creature looking back at them. The human looking man, with any remaining skin is taut over spare flesh, and the ends of his fingers are worn to the bone. The fingers could have been worn down from his endless picking at the walls of his prison and scratching the words. His clothes and dialect and use of words are from another era. The man is clearly undead, the rotting stench of death assaults Talia and Dreadfang's nostrils as the man gets closer to the hole.
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Seeing the other's reactions, Zoresk finds it best to keep his distance. "It seems that your state of living has rendered him nauseous."
Zoresk ponders on the request. "Depends on the knowledge you hold. We could easily keep you pinned up until you tell us what it is you know and if, and that's a big if, once released you can be an asset."
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Marcus grins and shakes his head. He conjures a modicum of occult energy to make his silver tongue shine the slightest bit brighter, then attempts to smooth things over as quickly as possible. "What I do believe my compatriot means is that a little show of good faith would be in order to complete such a transaction. A preview, sample, or taste if you will of the knowledge you possess. I'm sure you can't blame us, but our interactions with the unliving have more often resulted in violence than a reciprocation of information. If you would be willing to join us for a return to our lodge, perhaps we could perform a sort of debrief and possibly work out a more comfortable set of liv.... er... unliving quarters as it may be."
He grins from ear to ear as he imagines the reactions back at the lodge to recruiting a zombie.
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"Forgive thou my manners, Sir? I am.... no ... I was Marcon Tinol. Thou art living?" he asks as you see bare rotten muscles contract in what might be a questioning frown.
He retreats from the hole a few steps, as the stench lessens fortunately for Dreadfang, who wipes Talia's hat and shoulders to get rid of the other nasty aroma. Marcol continues, "Good Sirs, I was .... 'prisoned here, chained and bricked up behind that same wall thou see-est before ye." A visible shudder runs through Marcol's body as he remembers, if he could weep, then surely he would now.
"Yea then did I .... sleep ... died? Verily did I wake later and broke the chains that bound me to the wall." His head bows, as he shakes it from side to side. "Tis then did I search for freedom of these four walls, but yea I looked .. but found none. So I slept again, until the very earth shook underneath me to wake me from my slumbers once more. Tis since that time I have drifted .... and chipped. Thou see a crack in this very wall, I saw t'was there after the ground shook. Since then my labours have opened this very hole before thou."
"Thou ask about House Candren, my good Sirs, verily I am ... was ... in the employ of the head of the house, Ednathian Candren. If I am released, then tis my duty to speak with him."
He stops and thinks a moment. "Thou offer of respite in your lodge, would makest me most happy, 'tis an offer I would accept most humbly. Though I have my own affairs to attend." He bows with aplomb towards the hole.
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"And if I may inquire... what would those affairs be? It has been quite some time that you've been... imprisoned and depending on his race, this Ednathian may not be alive anymore. Although my compatriot here has informed me of a living member of House Candren with whom we could possibly put you in contact."
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"Indeed, I knowest not how long I slept. Be known, that he is a human as I am ... was! " Marcol's eyes seem to stare intently on the wall, as if he recalls more of his torment.
There's something about it you think you know, if only you could think properly without that stench just tickling your nostrils. But it's not like one of those zombies you fought earlier.
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Marcus steps back and whispers to his compatriots. "Well... there are dozens of ways this can go wrong. Not quite sure what we're dealing with, but he's intelligent which would lead me to believe that our dealings with Geb and Nex should be more of a blueprint than our dealings with Osirion... sages not withstanding. I doubt we're dealing with a Vampire since he's still trapped and we're all still alive and if we are dealing with a vengeful sort such as a Revenant than the target of his ire may well have it coming. To be frank, when this hold floods these walls will continue to degrade and our friend here does not need breath. To leave him to deal on his own will make immediate enemies with him upon his inevitable escape. To free him means we can learn on our own terms. I would like to spring him, but will defer should the rest of you feel otherwise. In service to the former Grand Prince this wouldn't be the first time I set my own feelings aside, but at least now we have the opportunity to decide together. All those in favor..." He holds a silent thumbs up.
"... and those against..." He holds out a silent thumbs down.
After a moment, he holds his thumb up and awaits the party's choice.
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"If the information is as valuable as it says it is, maybe it is worth breaking him loose." Zoresks says nodding his head in agreement. "However, I would suggest binding it once we get it out. Then we have to figure out a way to get him back to the VC. I'm not sure traipsing an undead entity through the lair of goblins and then through the halls of the Grand Lodge is a good idea."
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As you end your discussion and start the process of breaking down the wall, Marcol readily enters into discussion with you. From the discussion you learn more about him, you discuss .....
Who put him there?
“My secret, that is…to keep…it burns in my mind, a secret to bargain with. I know much. And greatly does a family in Absalom fear my secret. Prithee, I beg you to free me. Guide me to the surface and I will share my secret. Perhaps then I will know peace…”
Can we trust you?
“Canst thou…imagine…the rage I feel? My heart beats not, yet it burns for vengeance… To speak the truth is my deepest desire…Know thee this: my jailers were not men of law but base criminals. No just sentence do I serve!”
Won't you eat the living?
“’Tis true that…I hunger. I control that…hunger…for now. Discipline I have learned…yes, discipline. Hunger is as nothing unto me now. Its claws have lost their grip…This I swear: no harm to the bodies of the living will I bring…So long as I see justice done. Then…peace. Forever.”
As you listen to Marcol's story, you realise that allowing Marcon to reveal his secret to the world will allow his spirit to finally pass on to the Boneyard.
You remember your history of Absalom and the dialects and way of speaking, so you determine he speaks in a style that is from the tomes of 500 years ago.
Putting two and two together, you understand that Marcol's information could be quite damaging to one person in particular: Goodman Hugen of House Candren, a member of the Grand Council of Absalom and First Harbormaster. As it appears that the Candren's bookkeeper has secret's about how House Candren rose from being minor nobility and became one of the richest and wealthiest Houses in Absalom, 500 years ago.