"It's a shame that the construct was malfunctioning. That type of work is rare, and could be quite useful."
He thinks for a moment. "I am left wondering who it's maker is."
The Dungeon Master flashes Belwick's player an enigmatic smile.
"Think you can rebuild it Belwick?" Caelius looks over the broken bits and pieces.
What's next?
Baghotir gathers himself, checks his gear, and makes ready to continue their trek.
"Do we want to try and track it back to wherever it came from? Or just head toward our destination? After all it might have just been wandering these mountains aimlessly." He shrugs though, unsure which is the best option.
"Let's follow it a bit. If the trail meanders astray too much, we cut back to the goal."
Yes, let's back track it. Kwalish was a reknowned inventor, right? Maybe some of his handywork?
Alisanne follows after Venn.
"Think you can rebuild it Belwick?" Caelius looks over the broken bits and pieces.
"This level of artifice is... Significant. It would take extensive study for me to know where to begin. Alas, it's not my field of expertise."
Belwick maintains concentration on his spell, keeping the elemental spirit near him as the group tries to track.
Heroic Inspiration to Alisanne.
Venn has no difficulty in following the trail, though it is long and frequently double backs on itself, and makes odd turns only to turn back onto itself.
Days later, having dealt with blood-sucking stirges at night, and prank-playing sprites (Bimz is clearly agitated and spends a lot of time stalking invisible somethings, and Gearbox wakes up with Sylvan graffiti on more than one morning.) during the days, The trees thin out. You find yourselves in the rocky foothills of The Barrier Peaks.
Venn determines that this is the same spot indicated by the map, and that using the trail the construct unintentionally blazed for you, it saved some time, despite the chaotic nature of its path.
You stand at a cleft in the rocks, that leads into darkness. At the mouth of the cleft where the light of day shines in, you notice that the walls here are etched with carvings in two different languages, one uses the alphabet of the common tongue, the other is a twisted series of glyphs and jagged script. Both make use of what you think are pictograms.
Baghotir approaches the entrance and examines the pictograms to try and make sense of them. He expects the smarter folk to have better odds, but he's curious. He'll cast light on his helm to help him see clearly.
[Investigation]
Baghotir recognizes one of the languages as either Infernal or Abyssal. He's seen examples of the written script before [Acolyte Background], and while he can't understand the writing, he knows it is the Infernal Alphabet.
What is the rest of the party doing?
"Neither of the options Baghotir is putting forth are exactly god news."
Venn looks around and preps for a delve, "Well, what're you standing around for, the gloom beckons."
The gloomstalking Pathfinder enters.
Belwick retrieves his spellbook, flipping to a ritual spell. "Hold a few minutes, Venn. Allow me to work a bit of magic and I should be able to translate what's written here."
Belwick casts his ritual...
The spell doesn't help with the various pictograms, BUT... Touching the stone walls, Belwick can read and understand the script.
The script is a couple of things. First, there are a number of names listed, a sort of, "Guest Book", of people who have passed through here.
The script speaks of The Monastery of The Distressed Body and goes on to say that The Grand Master of the monastery offers shelter and protection to all who submit to their authority.
"The symbols... are a map. A coded one. But, I think I can make enough sense that... yes, it's a map I can use. This will help. Take a look, and get familiar with it as well."
"You may also be interested in knowing that some fairly infamous people have come through here. Outlaws and brigands, mostly. I suppose if you wanted, you can also sign this 'guest book'. It'd certainly improve the quality of individual."
Baghotir is intrigued, "Well deciphered Belwick. Smart. So did any make it back? Maybe there will be nothing left when we get there."
"Still, I think, for an occasion such as this, we should carve our names into the stone. But as that would take too much time, I suggest I cast Stone Shape and do it that way."
If the party agrees, Baghotir will cast the spell, and carve the party member's names into the wall. He's careful not to damage any prior writing or pictograms.
"You can skip mine my friend. I've no desire to leave my mark like that.... though I would not object to a more cryptic "Heroes of Saltmarsh." Either way, let's see it done. Gæða wyrd swa hio scel."
.
Stone Shape is effective in this.
The party, guided by the directions given in the stone, makes their way through the caverns. In a matter of hours, they emerge into the light, on a ledge overlooking a bowl-shaped valley.
Floating hundreds of feet in the air at the center of the valley is a large island of rock. Enormous chimney-engines extend from the bottom of this island, burning with fitful, deep-red fires that appear to keep the island aloft. A series of odd structures rise from the rock, appearing almost like metallic crystals.
Farther down the cliff-side ledge is a flat metal dock, on which reclines a winged feline monstrosity with a female humanoid head. A matching dock is thrust out from the floating rock island across from this dock, but there is no obvious way to cross the hundreds of feet of open space between them.
I don't know if I want to deal with that to get across. I think I can get all of us across without needing to do so. Though, I wonder if it'll let us just cross or if it will force an encounter either way.
Baghotir is happy to carve "Hero's of Saltmarsh" rather than individual titles. Less grandiose as well - more fitting. "Good call Venn, good call."
He carves their name into a blank bit of stone, and because he can't help himself, he adds a little extra here and there to accent the text. Just a few extra carvings.
When they reach the valley he whistles softly.
"By Clangeddin's holy beard. Now that is a sight I never thought I'd see. Yeah, we should negotiate with this creature if we can. I trust your magics more Alisanne, but we should know if the, uh, cat, is an ally or enemy. But I agree, if you can get us across, no need to 'deal' with the kitty - unless we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed."
"Let's go to the dock on our side and call out, shall we?"
"It is an interesting conundrum. We need to fly up to the island, and the presence of the dock suggests that there is some sort of conveyance. But the creature that appears to be a manticore? It looks like a guardian. We can parlay, potentially ensuring safe passage from the creature, and learn about how we might cross. Though if it is the means to conveyance, I am less than comfortable."
Belwick considers the situation further. "I would like to hear your idea, Alisanne. Though I can probably hide a few of us with magic, my most useful spells work best with a more direct approach. I might use an enchantment to suggest it leave us be."
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"Words before violence if it's not an evil being."
"The question is wht is it guarding?" Caelius wonders aloud. "Let's use the dock to try and get over to it. We would be left scattered and uncoordinated if we tried to magic our way over."
"I'm sure I can fly all of us over there. I'm just not sure that creature will let us. As you say, your lordship, parley may be necessary to ensure our safe conduct across."
You cross down the path towards the dock. When you get closer, you can see that this creature has had metallic and mechanical looking parts grafted into its head. The creature's eyes appear to be solid blue glass lenses that glow. A number of small objects spin as they orbit her head.
"Entreat with me, if you wish to cross to The Monastery. You do not appear entirely ignorant, and I look forward to adding whatever small knowledge you might possess to my collection."
She sits on her rear haunches and regards you all, considering you.
"To cross the way, you must pay the toll, or ask me a question that I cannot answer. Be warned: With the knowledge I have collected over the years, I know the answer to every question."
"Before we begin asking you questions, I expect you would tell us what the toll is."
"Knowledge from one of you, Or lesser ability from two of you."
Caelius seems a bit worried. "That sounds like a heavy price Belwick. Maybe we should just ask it the question."
The large, feline cyborg twitches her tail and narrows her glowing eyes. A low growl is heard and then is gone. She looks to each one of you, waiting for someone to make a move or ask a question.
"Which carries the moral weight of a decision, the action or the consequence? "
The creature starts to speak but then stops. Her eyes narrow and her head twitches. She lets out a snort and then starts to pace back and forth, muttering to herself. The mechanical parts that are grafted onto her, as well as those that orbit her head start to pulse with light and arc electricity betwixt them.
She snorts, loudly and with resolution. Then she approaches Venn and with a low, growl in her voice, anger unmistakable, she speaks:
"You always end with a jade's trick; I know you of old."
She turns and looks back towards the floating island. A series of loud beeps, chirps and whirs accompany some new flashing lights.
A platform with a solitary figure on it starts to float from the island and approach the dock where you stand.
The creature turns towards the party.
"Proceed. Unless there are further questions."
Each adventurer earns 580 Experience Points.
You all feel that she'd like to tear you apart, but she refrains from taking a fighting posture.
"Seems like that was mach ado about nothing. Let us go." Venn steps onto the platform."
Baghotir wisely says nothing, not wanting to antagonize the creature, but he does give Venn a mighty pat on the back, whispering, "Well done!"
He'll begin to proceed toward the platform coming over so as to be ready for it.
The platform has several of the fire-spewing chimneys on its underside that the enormous island does. There are no obvious controls or rigging.
The lone figure appears to be humanoid wearing black, draping robes that hide their hands and face. Venn steps onto the platform. The, 'driver', of the platform patiently waits for all of you to follow Venn.
Alisanne steps onto the platform, impressed with Venn.
Belwick beams a smile at Venn. "There are depths to you, my friend. Ones that continue to impress me. I don't know that I could have posed a better question."
He then follows Venn onto the platform. "Let's be about this, lady and gentlemen."
The floating platform takes you, swiftly and safely, across the wide expanse of open air to the dock at the floating island. Despite the lack of any railings or chairs, you know you are completely safe, though the figure on the platform gives you each an odd feeling accompanied with a bit of gooseflesh on the back of your necks.
The platform pulls up to the dock and lines up with precision. There is no visible seam betwixt the platform and the dock.
Just down the dock, another figure stands, clothed identically to the original, though it is not the same height or build. This one is wider and shorter, a stout person of human size. The cowl hides their face.
Though they do not lower their cowl, they greet you with a warm, friendly voice.
“Congratulations on your finding us! The Monastery of the Distressed Body remains ever open to new prospects. I am sure the Grand Master will find suitable use for your bodies . . . or your minds. May I take you to him now?
”My mind and my body are my own, friend.” Baghotir looks them up and down, ”I plan on leaving here with both, thank you very much.”
Caelius breathes a sigh of relief as the creature doesn't eat them whole. He didn't realize that Venn's mind had such deep thoughts about life, but he pushes those thoughts down for anothertime. This was no time to become complacent.
"Mind of the Distressed Body?" Caelius' voice trails off. "What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that you are most welcome! We accept you into our ranks as either one of the Immured Brothers or The Enlightened Ones. Please allow me to escort you to the Grand Master and he will welcome you into our ranks."
"I will never be immured." The disdain is obvious when he spits the word out.
"Then you seek Enlightenment! Joyous news!"
Baghotir shrugs, pretty certain that the enlightenment offered is not one he's willing to receive. But, he won't ignore a new experience just on a hunch. He'll follow this strange receptionist.
"Before we go anywhere, can you tell us more of the monastery?"
Alisanne wracks her memory to see if she's ever heard of The Monastery of the Distressed Body, The Immured Brothers, or The Enlightened Ones.
Alisanne fails that roll.
"I am merely one of The Enlightened Ones. In my former life, I was a criminal--an outlaw. The Grand Master has shown me a new way, and stripped me of that old identity. Now I help others attain the same state of raw exposure, revealing who they are inside of their distressed body. The Grand Master is the best person to speak to and ask your questions. I will take you to him, you need but ask."
"Yeah. Sure thing pal. Please, take us to your grand master." Baghotir says dryly. Seems the way in is to talk to their leader.
The whole thing is very strange to him though. He had imagined this place would be devoid of people. Just some old 'technology' rattling around. Whatever that is. And yet here is some kind of cult. Very strange.
Still, maybe they have something hot to eat. He's tired of living on trail rations.
The Monk is delighted!
The Monastery of the Distressed Body
You are led from the docks, across the grounds. The Monastery seems to be made up of a number of pyramids and other, jutting, sharp angled buildings.
Five Monks, all identical to your guide--wearing dark cowled robes that conceal the face and head--are in the open area between the buildings working in various capacities: scrubbing stones, gardening, et cetera.
Your guide leads you to the tallest structure towards the back of campus, a conning tower that extends hundreds of feet into the air.
A massive pair of cathedral doors open onto a long nave. Rows of balconies line the walls, occupied by a couple of dozen hooded monks seemingly come to watch the audience about to take place.
At the far end of the nave, a throne resembling a twisted metal captain’s chair rises from a metallic dais backed by an ornate arch. There sits the Grand Master of the Distressed Body — a gaunt, enormous man--the size of an ogre!--with a bone white visage that resembles a skull. His eyes burn with intensity that you can feel from here. He is flanked by two massive bodyguards. The Grand Master wears a patchwork leather robe and a gleaming crown, and he carries a scepter set with odd crystal bumps and metal flanges. With his other hand, the Grand Master taps the arm of the throne, showing off nails set with gleaming metallic shards.
“Welcome,” the Grand Master says. “We get few supplicants here of your obvious experience and skill. You shall do well in service here at the monastery. But will that service be with the strength of your bodies or the strength of your minds?”
Venn returnst o his taciturn state. Conversing with those whose tongues are silvered is bad enough. When that silver is potentially forked, he's learned to keep quiet.
Not likely where it's going, he stays quiet for now, hoping one of his own silver-tongued teammates will inform this ...self-proclaimed Grand Master that we're here for retrieval, not a pilgrammage.
"I fear there might have been something of a misunderstanding. We're here as visitors, having heard that this place is home to many marvels created by the great wizard Kwalish. I myself am a man who has studied the magical arts, and my curiosity has led me here today."
Belwick continues to smile, pleased at how things have progressed to this point. "Of course, I am also curious about this monastery, as I admit I did not expect to find it at all. Grand Master, can you tell us more of this place and its purpose?"