Master of Blades - Round 5 - concluded
Making up for a frustrating series of misses, Olaf finally hits the kamikaze cultist, slicing open in a serious and seemingly mortal way.
From the side, Elise pokes him a few more times with her rapier, and while they are minor blows individually, its the last straw for the boggard after the devastating strike from Olaf. As Elise withdraws her rapier to stab a third time, the last foe falls face first to the ground, stone dead.
End of Combat
As the last foe falls, and the dust and quiet settles back over the ruined chamber, Valdrin huddles everyone together and casts a healing spell that fills all of you with a brief, but intense, fire. It seems to burn away some of yoru wounds and leaves you a bit more restored than before.
Shaking his head, "These boggards are getting tougher and tougher as we encounter them," Looking around at the bodies in the small cramped room, trying to make sense of the death.
Looking back to the otheres, "I wonder how many more of these things we are going to have to kill,"
Olaf breathes heavily as his antagonist finally falls to the combined strikes of him and Elise.
Nodding to Fentus, he concurs, "Surely nobody expeced so many foes down here. I was expecting a few human cultists and a cleric or two. This is unexpected."
After thanking Valdrin for the healing magic, Olaf inspects his dropped shield and growls at it. "Wrecked, no time to fix it now." and swaps his spare shield from his pack.
Straightening up, he adds, "Ready to move on?"
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Serpens shakes off the cobwebs.
The decision to abandon sword and shield for a more subversive style was not paying dividends lately.
This level of resistance is suspicious. Especially since we have no real quarrel with squatters in this instance. Oh well.
Serpens walks himself over to the remaining closed door on this side of the hallway and raps on the doorjam Shall we?
Serpens leads the party back to the east across the former goblin lair, which is no littered with the corpses of dead cultists. From the room with shredded bed linens hanging from the ceiling, there is another door that had not yet been explored. Before Elise can do her door-procedure, Serpens just raps on the wooden frame, and opens the door. The elf's impatience is not an issue this time, as the door opens into a 20' long hallway heading east, and then ending. A single door on the north wall at the end of the hall is the only other means of visible egress.
No traps are found in the short hallway, or on the only door at the end. Opening the portal, you see that the furniture in this former bedroom is all askew, revealing a mountain-like pile in the center made up largely of garbage such as filthy cloth, chunks of rubble, and bent nails, though there are a few shining glints in the mix. On the southern wall, scrawled in a chunky substance in a childlike hand, are several words that might be gibberish.
On the eastern wall of the ruined bedchamber, the stones of the wall and floor have been smashed and the beginnings of a rudimentary tunnel stretch about 3' into the earth beyond. On the floor next to this pathetic tunnel are bent lengths of metal and pipe as well as smaller pieces of metal that look like rusty spoons.
If you recall the captured (and then slaughtered) cultist saying they would dig into the homes of Breachton, this might be the tunnel they were referencing? If so, it never really got going.
There are no foes or visible doors or passages from this area, besides the way you entered.
"The writing is Draconic. It says, 'Beware mighty dragons,' though there are some spelling errors. Not the most terrifying threat I've seen."
Trista thinks back to Helba's description of the level. "Do we want to face monsters, or dead people? I'm inclined toward monsters, but the dead may hold some secrets about the past of the citadel, Fentus."
Nodding to Trista, "I too would like to see what the dead have to offer for answers," looking to Serpens, "Though it is probably wise to address the more immediate, living, threat of the cultists and their monsters,"
Holding his hands up sighing, "The dead and my search for answers will have to wait till we have this place cleared out, I think,"
"I lack the skills to move quiet." Olaf warns and hangs back slightly while the sneaky folks do the sneaky things, ready to charge in if they raise the alarm.
When you leave the cultist/goblin area and head to where Helba said monsters live, there are three single doors all in a line. Which of these doors do you open first?
"Systematic study is best, I think." Trista points at the leftmost door.
The door on the left is not trapped or locked and, when opened, reveals an entry hall that is still decorated with the remnants fo homages to the Order of the Nail's most storied deeds. Tall oil paintings, many of which are damaged but still recognizable, depict Hellknights gaining the upper hand in clashes with bandits, opposing armies, and terrible monsters.
The room is oddly-shaped but has a door in the center of the southeastern wall and another at the far eastern end. No foes are immediately present or at least visible, in this room.
Trista wanders into the seemingly-safe room and look back and forth from the portraits to Fentus.
Many of the portraits are ruined enough to make them valueless, but there is one painting, that although it has a bit of water damage on one corner, is mostly intact.
The picture itself depicts three Hellknights battling a black dragon in an ominous swamp. A fourth Hellknight leaps from a rise behind the dragon with her halberd raised, ready to bear down on the dragon's back, while a robed Hellknight in the background attends to a wounded knight. In the corner of the painting, the artist has signed their work: A. Mourncrag.
Trista knows fine art when she sees it, and she reckons this work would fetch a pretty penny if sold to the right buyer, maybe as much as 75gp.
Fentus strides up the painting to examine the Hellknights in action. "This is really remarkable work, look how coordinated they are in action fighting this dragon," Lightly running his fingers along the painting, touching the painted hellknights, "And look, here A. Mourncrag, my father must have painted this, wow I didn't think that Hellknight's would be allowed to paint. There's so much I don't know about my father or this organization."
Looking to Trista, "Do you think there is some way we can preserve this or make sure it's kept safe?"
"Probably best if we bring it carefully back to town. If we leave it in these conditions, it will deteriorate further." Trista appreciates the composition of the painting. "Your father had a fine hand."
"Speaking of, how are we all feeling after those fights?" Olaf asks, looking over the painting with some interest, "Everyone OK to press on yet? I have plenty of magic, so as long as someone is ready to patch me up, I'm good."
The warrior then hefts his spare shield and blade and awaits the group to decide where to go next.
It does appear that you could carefully cut the painting from the frame and roll it up for easier transportation, but that's up to you. Carrying the frame around is going to be pretty unwieldy.
Valdrin nods. "I can keep you on your feet for now, Olaf. Well the Dawnflower and I can. " he touches his sunburst holy symbol as he references his patron deity. "But let's not test her limits, eh?"
None of the rest of paintings are salvageable or noteworthy. The rest of the room is empty, so Trista ends up leading the others to the door at the far eastern end.
Looking at the others, "We might want to leave this painting here, It's lasted a few years, I'm sure it can make it a few more days," hesitating to remove his hand and gaze from the painting, "As much as I want to keep it, I don't know if carrying it around for more fights is wise,"
"I don't mind carrying it. It's unwieldy, but it won't be too heavy."
"Off to the next room then?" Olaf asks as the group gets ready to move.
Watching as Trista carefully cuts down the painting and roll up. Taking a force of will to take his eyes of it to respond to Olaf, "Yes, let's go, hopefully there isn't much more in here,"
Fentus looks at the others, "Might as well try this far door,"
He steps up to the door, and carefully opens it, peeking into the other side.
"Aye, one is as good as another." Olaf rumbles as he hefts his backup shield and waits for the door to open, planning to be first through should there prove to be hostiles on the other side.
Olaf and Fentus open the door at the far end of the room, and see this was once an armory. Empty weapon racks line the walls of this oddly shaped chamber. Repair forges long abandoned and cold sit in a lonely row toward the back, along with a crude lean-to seemingly made from bits of rope and frayed leathers.
No sooner are the doors open when a pair of small scaly humanoids, one green the other red, come charging from the lean to shouting shrilly, "We are mighty dragons and we wants your meats!"
The creatures bare their teeth and wave their weapons (a dagger and a staff respectively) menacingly, but stop short of actually attacking. One makes strange huffing sounds in its throat as if something is wrong with its breathing.
"Oh, don't be foolish. There's twice as many of us, and do we even look like we have 'tasty meats'? Olaf is tough as a shoe and Fentus would be much too spicy. Now, settle down and tell us what you're doing here."
"Mighty dragons demand food as tribute, for disturbing our rest. " says the red one, while the green one continues to breath and blow strangely, but there is no noticeable effect.
Trista, you know these are kobolds, distant relatives of dragons, supposedly, but in reality a pair of pretty weak humanoids.
"Who are you that dares trespass in our lair?" continues the red one in a lordly tone. Green stops huffing for long enough to whisper, "Pib, this isn't our lair, remember? The cultists drove us out of..." before he is summarily hushed by Pib.
Both seem less likely to attack, and more interested in conversation at this point.
At the sight of the "Mitey Dragons" Olafs mouth opens as if to speak for a good beat, then snaps shut.
Baffled at the increasingly strange dungeon, the warrior opts to lets the more charismatic of the group try to talk to these "dragons", ready to charge in and fight, should it be necessary.
"Mighty dragons, we have a tribute for you."
Trista speaks to her companions as an aside. "I think. Does anyone have any snacks? These creatures are just hungry and a bit pathetic."
"We accept your tribute and fealty, pink skins." says Pib with his air or superiority undaunted. "We welcome you to our summer palace, our main abode is 'under-repair' at the moment. Zarf, find a place for our retainers to sit." The green-scaled kobold looks askance at the command from Pib. "Who made you leader, eh? I'm the leader! Pib finds seats, not Zarf. Zarf commands!" At that they both fall into quarreling nastily in broken Common and Draconic for several minutes, before composing themselves once again.
"It's fine if our servants just stand, as long as they brought fine dining for us," says Zarf, with a hopeful look.
Whispering back to Trista, "I ate all my food from earlier, but I have some Rations. . .Maybe we can convince them they are special, I'll try,"
Pulling some Rations out of his backpack, "Great, Mighty Dragons, I have an Elven Delicacy here for you, they are known as Rashiouns. They can sustain you even in the hardiest of places. And only might warriors are capable of eating them."
The kobolds see the food and leap for it, not really listening to the words of Fentus. They gobble as much as you put in front of them as quickly as is possible.
At last, Pib regains some self-control "You serve your masters well, man. Perhaps you would consider one other favor?" He looks with an eyebrow raised at Zarf for confirmation. Then the green one takes over. "Yes, we request a show of fealty from you lowly minions. We will reward you with treasure from our unimaginable hoard, should you succeed. Will you take this challenge or face our mighty wrath?" He belches a bit at the end of this pronouncement, but pretends like he was trying to breath dragon's breath instead.
Looking at the others, "I think we can undertake a challenge for you, but first, oh Great and Terrifying ones, can you answers some questions about these cultists that moved in?" Attempting to placate the Kobolds and seek some answers from them.
"Do you know where they are coming from or how many more of them are there still in here?"
Pib and Zarf both blink confusedly at Fentus for a moment. "But our quest for you lowly fellows was about these self-same cultists. Here is what we know. They are followers of the mighty dragon god Dahak, the Glorified Destroyer. They come from some far off jungle place. They ran off the goblins which was fine with us lordly types. But they also had the temerity to remove us from our lair and horde, and into this..." he gestures grandly about the ruined armory. "...this lowly place. How rude and disrespectful. They are glad to catch us unawares, I can promise you that!"
Pib fumes for a moment, and a single smoke ring escapes his nose, "So our reqeuest is for you to remove these Cinderclaw usurpers and restore our lair to us properly. Can you manage this? A great reward from the horde will surely be yours if so."
Trista is distracted from the conversation at hand by the mention of Dahak.
She feels blood rising to her cheeks, and the air in the chamber grows warm around her. Perhaps she imagines it, but she swears the distant thunder of a reverberating roar and the crack of titanic wings shake the castle.
Olaf grunts, "Sounds like we have the same plan then. We can take care of this quest for you." he rumbles.
Except for the goblins part, might need to have a talk about that once we clear the cult out. he thinks to himself as he waits to make sure this conversation doesn't devolve into violence after all.
"You are wise to not risk the wrath of such powerful beasts as ourselves," says Zarf airily. "You know where our lair is of course?"
"Please, direct us!"
Trista hides a smile by pretending to consult her book. The kobolds are a pleasant break form jungle creatures trying to kill the group.
Sweeping his arm out before, bowing low, speaking with much enthusiasm "Please, mighty dragons, show us the way, we would hate to get lost in this formidable lair of yours,"
Pib and Zarf blink at the unexpected ease of convincing you. "Well..." says one hesitatingly. "We couldn't possible lower ourselves to be involved in actual combat with those cultists," says the other recovering quickly. "You just go and do our bidding and tell us when we can go back to our hoard. Now! Go!"
Nodding along as they talk, "Of course, of course, we'll we will head off then," Looking to the others, "seems like we've learned all we can learn from these two,"
Fentus heads to the only other door in this room, posting up to the side of it before looking to Olaf, ". . .if you'd do me the honors, Olaf, think some boot to door action is required here"
Catching on, Trista says, "Oh, mighty ones! We have anticipated your whim and liberated your hoard from the cultists already. It is ready for you." Trista is barely keeping it together. "What reward for your loyal servants?"
Olaf nods, grins, and prepares himself to kick the door once the group is ready.
At Trista's words, Pib and Zarf look at each other in amazement for a few awkward seconds. Then they both begin jumping up and down, patting each other on the back. "Mighty Dragons dominate cultists! Back to our lair! Back to our treasure horde!" You can see the visible relief on their faces, which after a few celebratory moments slowly fades away.
"Wait," says Pib with concern. "You killed the cultists, but did not loot our hoard? Not even a copper? Then you have earned a boon from your superiors! If your treasure didn't interest you, maybe information will. The leader of the cultists, Malarunk by name, is on the level below this one. Trapped it seems, but we are not sure how. You cannot access the lower dungeon any longer due to a cave in on the stairs, so you must find another way. Our lair is not safe until this intruder and all his minions are dealt with. "
"And," says Zarf picking up the thread, "Watch out, especially if you go through that door," indicating the one Olaf and Fentus are near. "There is an invisible killer lurking there. Hard to see, but easy to get snared by it, yes?"
Packing up the few meager belongings they brought with them, the pair of kobolds walk with a faux-regal gait, and begin to head back to their original lair. "If we ahve need of you again, minions, we will merely call. Then you must come running. This we command."