Age of Ashes (Team Alseta)

Game Master ChesterCopperpot

Ardoinel accepts the insignia and dons it in a prominent place, hiding his icon of Yuelral and displaying Torag's more prominently, before striding into the room after Alak.

"Hail and well met, honored dead of the Order."

Netkin has taken some time to think about how to introduce the group to the (deceased) Hellknights, and if he remembers any specific greetings or protocol to follow, he incorporates them into his greetings...

Provided that they have not changed too much since the guardians passed away.

Lore (Hellknights): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Netkin

You don't remember any such mundane details.

Skeleton

"Ah, finally.Let me take a look at you. A scribe, a seer, a craftsman of Torag and... a halfling hellknight. Perhaps you are right, Armingers, time has changed things. Even the insignias... they are clearly after my time, batch-made. But there is still potential." He turns to look at Resa. "Was one of your parents of the order, child?"

Everyone

The flooring of the long hall is made up of headstones with names and dates written on them. Six of the headstones have been pried open, and lay empty. A large relief carving of the order's insignia covers the southern wall. The nail sunrays extending to either side. The five accompanying skeletons remain still, waiting for orders.

Netkin visibly winces when the skeleton clearly indicates that he considers the presence of a tiefling among the Order's ranks less weird than a halfling. "Clearly, we have yet to prove ourselves,"he admits diplomatically.

He surveys the room, particularly curious of the headstones and the insignas, but his gaze keep coming back nervously to the undead. He's not particularly reassured by the moving skeletons; in his own experience, they tended to stay still and silent.

Not that he had seen many, granted. Or any. Did books count?

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

With the insignia pinned to her collar, Ellaeaanda quietly moves with the others into the crypt. “Steadfast you are beyond death,” she says to the skeletons while surveying the various headstones and general area. “Know you the Stagram line?” she asks. “An heirloom he seeks—the signet ring of his lineage.”

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

Netkin

sadly not in the ones grandma allowed you to read.

Ellaeaanda

"Some generations past, yes. There is a vault just past this hallowed halls, the Stagrams have a lockbox to their name. At least they did, when I was alive. Whether the elf took anything that was left, I do not know."

"Alak, the family treasure that you seek may lie just beyond. Your search may result in success soon!

During this conversation, Cerrus attempts to see if the skeletons seem swayed by the insignias now being worn.

"Ah, yes. A good omen! Maybe the ring is close!" Netkin beams at Alak - well, Alak's helmet.

"I have to ask, though," he turns back to the skeletons. "Why did you let the elven woman through? Wasn't she an intruder?"

"They did say they drove her away, Armiger Bigpot," Ardoinel replies.

“Venture may we to this vault, to claim his heritage?” Ellaeaanda asks the skeleton respectfully. When Netkin mentions the other elf, she adds “What else did this elf desire, beyond Alseta’s ring?”

"So it seems. It sounds as if my search is coming to an end. But yours seems to be expanding evermore."

"The craftsman is right. We drove her back the way she came, through the vaults. But there is no telling what she might have taken before we awoke."

"It belongs to the Stagrams, not to us. You may proceed. As for her, she run when she realized that it was not her magic waking us from slumber."

"Well..." Netkin looks expectantly at Alak. "Shall we, to the next room?"

Cerrus nods to the skeletal guardians. "Thank you for guarding these chambers against an intruder. We are thankful for being granted access into the hallowed chambers beyond."

Cerrus takes a small step back and gestures to Alak. "You first, Alak."

Before following Alak into the vaults, Ellaeaanda pauses to ask another question. “Do my ears hear correctly? The other elf came from the vaults, and back through the vaults she returned?” She looks down at Netkin. “If this be true, Lirayne she is not. Unless your Voz is a necromancer?”

Head into the vaults, but I’m not sure where that is on the map.

”That is correct, she came through the vault, and to the vault she fled.”

The vaults are B16

Alak leads you all into the vaults. Rows of large, metal-and-stone lockboxes line the winding walls of the room, as do occasional shelves and filing cabinets. The lockboxes hang ajar.

A set of obvious tracks in the dusty floor suggest someone recently moved about in here. A pile of ashes and a few melted candle stubs lie atop a low table in the centre of the room.

At the other side of the room, one more door lies waiting. One door to which the tracks lead.

”Emptied... No surprise there,” says Alak. He turns around to face you all. ”I must thank you. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. But, you not only helped me. In spite of your disagreements with the order you showed respect for this histories place. Even for disregarded traditions.”

You get 115 xp from finding bypassing the combat with the skeletons.

”Thank you, I should return to Vraid soon. I am glad it was you who came to the citadel, and I am glad I met you. If you ever need anything from the order, you may count on me to put in a good word.”

Before following Alak into the vaults, Ellaeaanda pauses to ask another question. “Do my ears hear correctly? The other elf came from the vaults, and back through the vaults she returned?” She looks down at Netkin. “If this be true, Lirayne she is not. Unless your Voz is a necromancer?”

Head into the vaults, but I’m not sure where that is on the map.

Netkin's mouth hangs open. "Oh gods, you're right! I had not thought about that. Oh, then there's something wrong going on... I don't like this."

”Emptied... No surprise there,” says Alak. He turns around to face you all. ”I must thank you. I knew it was a long shot, but I had to try. But, you not only helped me. In spite of your disagreements with the order you showed respect for this histories place. Even for disregarded traditions.”

”Thank you, I should return to Vraid soon. I am glad it was you who came to the citadel, and I am glad I met you. If you ever need anything from the order, you may count on me to put in a good word.”

"You're welcome!" Netkin steps closer to the lockboxes. "Mmm. Did Lirayne - sorry, the intruder - open them all? How queer." He checks to see if there's anything left inside, and if the lock was broken or opened with a key.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10

“Content are we whose fates have crossed,” Ellaeaanda returns Alak’s thanks in her own unique way. With a distracted air she peers at the pile of ashes, wondering what was burned besides wax, and examines the lockboxes.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

Resa stays quiet under the review of everyone, even the undead, because she truly could not answer everything put to her. She was unknown to her family enough to not give a good answer. She does scout out the other door, as the other has clear footsteps leading to it.

perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

Ardoinel strokes his beard a bit as Alak thanks them and the discussion from Netkin and the others turns to the elf from the vaults.

"I think our charau-ka said they had come through the aiudara...and if our elven thief had come from INSIDE the vault, that must mean they came through with them, from the Mwangi Expanse."

He turns to Netkin.

"Can you tell us more about Lirayne? Had she been gone from Breachill and recently returned? Given the descriptions we're being given either she was replaced or you've had some sort of spy living amongst you for gods know HOW long..."

Netkin

They look undamaged.

Ellaeaanda

It seems like some sort of parchment was burn as well.

The lockboxes seem to have been opened a long time ago, as the inside is covered in dust.

Resa

The tracks lead from that room and to the table. From there, they go back to the room, but they are less even, spread further apart and smudged. There is no sound coming from the next room.

Ardoinel

The charau-kas came from downstairs, past the collapsed stairway in the main hall.

“Ashes to ashes, and parchment too,” Ellaeaanda surmises after examining the table. “But why burn here, unless ritual with candles it be?”

Recall Knowledge: Are there any spells/rituals where one burns a scroll or parchment? What does she know about necromancy? Arcana +8, Religion +7

“Dust of ages,” she gestures vaguely at the interiors of the lockboxes, “ere the elven necromancer were these opened. By whom, I cannot say.”

"Well... It's hard to tell, really," Netkin shifts from foot to foot. "She's always on the go to pick up some rare books. I think it's why she likes the job in the first place? That's why she took an assistant to manage the shop while she is gone."

"I guess she could have left recently, but... I don't really remember..."

Lore (Breachhill): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20

"Grandma's usually pretty good at reading people, but... I don't know... Two people from the same shop being involved in this mess is, er," he chuckles a bit nervously. "Statiscally unlikely, I guess?"

"Whatever, whoever Lyraine is, or if someone took her appearance... It's bad."

" No, something happened here. Look, see how they come in all even and strong? Like one of us, but going back, they... they are smudged and uneven, as if some one was harmed or injured. If this was our local shop keeper, she was harmed here. I venture this may not be safe, but I say we go through that door, see what we can." And if no one stops or disagrees, Resa will move forward and open the door.

Ellaeaanda

There are cultures that use paper charms said to protect the users from evil spirits. These charms burn as their magic is used up.

Warding fulus

Netkin

What is your question for the recall knowledge from breachill lore?

Resa

There is a long and narrow storage space past the door. It is cluttered with racks and cabinets, most of them empty, although some still contain dusty banners with the sunburst of nails, a red pentagram icon, wrappings, incense and some funerary trappings.

At the end of the room there is a dirt-walled tunnel built into the wall and stretching into the gloom. The tracks lead further down the tunnel.

Ellaeaanda follows Resa into the storage space. There she pauses to search the racks and cabinets, and to examine the tunnel, while waiting for someone who doesn’t need the benefit of her light spell—namely Resa or Ardoinel—to lead the way into the darkness of the tunnel.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Recall Knowledge—how long ago was the tunnel built? Not sure which skill is appropriate: +8 for Int-based, +7 for Wis-based.

Does he recall Lirayne leaving Breachhill recently? And where she said she was going?

... I don't like this," Netkin says, very quietly. He eyes the tunnel warily.

When he's quite sure nothing is going to come out of it to attack the group, he moves to inspect the cabinets.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (13) + 6 = 19

"Looks like a secret way in," Ardoinel comments. He steps to the front of the group and looks into the dark.

Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Remind me, Calmont was going behind Lirayne's back for his little plan, right?

As the rest of the group follows, Resa is going to venture down the path, taking her time and trying to make sure she is as quiet and careful as she can be, making sure there are no traps or anything else that would harm the group if they follow behind her. She does travel out of sight of the torches, just to help out with anything that might spot her given her ability to see without light.

Ellaeaanda

The tunnel was made during the hellknight time in the citadel. The stonework curves in an archway around it, and the dirt is packed and stable. It might have served as an emergency exit back in the day.

Netkin

She did go to Absalom to meet with a contact from the impossible lands.

You find nothing of interest, except for an exquisite banned sown with golden hellknight insignias. The banner itself is large and heavy, weighing 10 pounds, but a collector would pay a few gold coins for it.

Ardoinel

Nothing but tunnel into the darkness.

Yes, he found out about Alseta’s ring and decided to look for it on his own.

Resa

There are no traps or signs of activity in the tunnel other than the tracks, which continue all the way. It is quiet and slightly damp from the earth. After 10 minutes the tunnel just continues on.

"So... In we go with lights, then?" Netkin is standing behind Ardoinel, as if to hide himself from potential dangers.

Ellaeaanda quietly nods at the halfling as she refreshes her light spell, creating three small glowing orbs that dutifully follow Netkin, Cerrus, and herself. She continues silently down the tunnel after Resa and Ardoinel, giving the pair some space so that they can utilize their darkvision beyond the limits of her light. She is curious about this other elf, but given that everyone else who has shown an interest in Alseta’s ring has proven adversarial, to say the least, she proceeds with caution.

The tunnel represents an uneventful two-hours walk leading up a sudden stop where a single step ladder leads up to a trapdoor above. Throughout this time you can feel a slight decline in certain places of the tunnel, leading you downwards, away from hellknight hill.

The wood of the step ladder is sturdy, but old. The trap door is unlocked.

Netkin munches on some beef jerky in the tunnel, as quietly as he can. It's been a while since they last had a proper meal, and he needs to be as focused as possible if they run into Lirayne. "The last time I heard of Lirayne, she was going to Absalom, but you never know..."

His stomach feels less empty when they reach the ladder.

"I guess the fighters should go first?" Netkin suggests. He listens attentively for any sound that might come from the other side of the trapdoor.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21

“As long as the mother tree’s roots,” Ellaeaanda remarks on the tunnel’s remarkable length, “and as long ago, constructed from ages past, when the citadel teemed with hellknights, to what realm today?” She casts a questioning gaze through the trap door above. “Breachill I suspect, if Lirayne’s abode above.” She waits patiently for one of the others—perhaps their official door opener Resa?—to climb up and open the trap door.

Cerrus offers to be the first out of the trapdoor, careful to check for signs of foul play first. ”Let’s see where this tunnel has lead us.”

" There is not much to see, so I suppose I will go first. Unless we missed something back in the fort?" Resa queries to the group, but if everyone agrees to continue forward, she would check the door for any traps before she would slowly open it, then go in to the opening.

Netkin

There are no sounds coming from the trap door, but the smell of grease and vinegar does make your hunger worse.

Ellaeaanda

Judging by the direction the tunnel had at the start, and the slight turns throughout, you are fairly confident in your guess that the tunnel is taking you back to breachill.

Cerrus

No signs of damage on the trapdoor as far as you can tell.

Resa

You know that there is the slime by the kobolds, and you know there is the necromantic ward somewhere, but you have cleared the wing of the basement where the Bumblebrashers used the live.

"We could always go back... Um... I believe we've done most of the job. Save for finding the aiudaras."

“Your sight is keen,” Ellaeaanda says to Netkin. “Returning to Breachill we are.” Confident in her deduction, she climbs up the ladder and out the trapdoor after Cerrus and Resa.

"Agreed," Ardoinel says, bringing up the rear once they're gathered. "We've got weeds to uproot from Breachill's garden."

You emerge within a storeroom filled with jars upon jars of pickles. There are pickled cucumbers, beets, radishes, onions, cauliflower, chicken’s feet, and, most curious of them all, pickled pig’s ears.

Looking back on the trap door, you can see that it was set under a stained rug, in a dark corner, out of sight.

Naturally, there is a door leading out of the storeroom.

Now that you are out of the citadel, you each get one hero point.

"Oh, we must be in Lirayne's shop..." Netkin peeks through the keyhole.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Resa looks around the surroundings, clearly a storeroom of some sort. She then queries the group " Does this mean she is evil, or something else?"

“Not all who eat pickles are evil,” Ellaeaanda responds nonchalantly, before confidently opening the door and exiting the storeroom.

Resa follows, but until she tries those pickles herself, she is going to be pretty confident only evil people eat bad pickles. Who just leaves pickles out unate? Evil people that's who. They have beets! Resa mutters mostly to herself " Only evil people eat beets."

Outside the door there is a short hallway with a kitchen and several similar looking storerooms attached to it. The smell of pig stew and cheap beer joins the sour smell of the pickles.

A young human man, of about nineteen, exits the kitchen door and turns towards you.

”Oh, gods, it’s too early to have drunkards already.” He says in a quiet voice that can be easily heard.

”Ey, you! Patrons are not allowed past the common room. So, why don’ you get back to your table?”

Netkin opens his mouth and closes it. Wherever they are, it's clearly not Lirayne's shop.

Lore (Breachhill): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18

"Um... Alright? Sorry? Could you... Where is the main room again?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Ellaeaanda stands in a seeming daze, seeing the pickled pig’s ears from the storeroom in her mind’s eye. Visions of past, present, and future collide. “Pickled Ear,” she recites in a faraway voice, while looking unseeing around the hallway. Turning, she gazes through the young man. “Strength and wisdom, power and authority, beauty and desire,” she intones softly. “Another elf we seek. Have you seen one?”

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

Ellaeaanda and Netkin are equally charismatic!

The server rubs his eyes with his hands.

"It just over here. Come on, don't dilly dally."

He opens a door next to him where a few mostly empty tables are laid out.

He blinks a couple of times at Ellaeaanda's words, then shakes his head.

"You're not great with alcohol, are you? Yes, you are at the Picked Ear, but I've got no idea who you're talking about. I just need you to leave the storerooms and head to the common area."

"You've never had Clan Gelderon beets," Ardoinel replies to Resa. "Father always spoke lovingly of their beets...especially on grindlegrub burgers."

When it turns out they're in a tavern instead of Lirayne's store, he chuckles a bit.

"Of course the tunnel wouldn't lead right to her doorstep. Clever Lirayne, clever..."

He clears his throat.

"I apologize for the inconvenience. We seem to have gotten turned around more than we expected."

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14