| 4 people marked this as a favorite. |
Dorek struggles to his feet and steps back, a dagger appearing in his free hand with a flick of his wrist as he steps forward and throws it at a fly appearing around the nearest corner. "Ah! G-give me a second - I can s-still f-fight!"
Pained though he his Dorek manages to stand and fling a dagger at one of the flies, unfortunately it bounces off a nearby wall harmlessly.
Two of the flies see fresh prey and buzz their way towards Dorek and Cecily. This time Cecily is bit and spat upon as the fly tries to eat her.
"Argh! My dress!"
Cecily jukes to the side and stares at the bloody, gooey rent in her arm and, more tragically, the further depredations of her regalia. She fixes the fly with a glare...
And then pounds it into the side of the temple.
Ahmose frowns at the uncooperative spacing that these annoying Giant Flies seem to be expertly deploying....
Seeing the valiant effort being perpetrated by the Rogue, the Alchemist decides to reward such perseverance.
Dorek! You favor Orange Tangerine flavored beverages by chance?
In response to his own inquiry, Ahmose rummages through his pockets, producing a vial.
He then Strides over to the barely standing example of stubborn.
Be plenty easier if I could just toss it at you ...
Thawm hears Cecily's complaint and follows down the right side.
She finds Cecily in significantly less distress than the stain on the building's wall that was once a fly.
Pretty sure she hears buzzing still, she gets ready to fire her crossbow at the next bug to come 'round the corner.
"That's the spirit, Dorek!"
Tandyn's armor clangs loudly as he rushes to the other side of the giant fly.
"Keep looking my way..."
Aroden uses the healing scale of Terendelev on Dorek.
"Through the power of Kenabres's protector may you be healed, child of Sarkoris."
Dorek nods in thanks to the human mage. "T-thank you, Aroden." He rounds on the fly in front of him, his blade and the claws of his other hand flashing out to rake against the insect's thorax.
Cecily squashes the fly against the wall with a satisfying splat. Meanwhile Dorek is healed between a force fed potion and the last remnants of Terendelev’s magical might.
Tandyn maneuvers and distracts the fly from Dorek. Dorek scores two glancing blows drawing more of the pale blood from the insect.
The remaining fly stupidly buzzes around the corner paying no heed as a bolt sails through one of its legs dismembering it. If the fly notices you cannot tell.
Cecily dodges as the fly tries to smash into her face. And Tandyn manages to get his shield in the way of the other fly.
Thawm slings her crossbow back over her back and lobs a splash of acid at the fly now biting at Cecily.
"Just a little more..."
Tandyn forces the fly off his shield and steps forward to try to skewer it.
Aroden holds his ground, sword in hand.
Cecily tries to repeat her performance on the last fly, on this fly.
In quick succession Cecily and Tandyn put down the remaining two flies ending the immediate danger.
A single sizable 20-foot-tall building remains in the center of this 30-foot-high cave, a bunker-like structure with no windows and walls of worked stone blocks. A 10-foot-long carving of a hammer (Torag) decorates the building’s facade. The ruins of collapsed out buildings stand to either side.
Aravashnial finds Dorek and pulls out a thin wand made of ivory or bone and speaks the word, ”Falsus vitas.” A strange numbing chill fills Dorek and the elf asks with a weak smile, ”Please be careful.”
As the adrenaline of the melee wears off, Anevia lets out a long forlorn sigh. Her eyes unfocus and she stares off into the darkness.
Thawm looks pleased with herself after helping to kill what were probably demons of some sort, how else could flies get so big? Returning to help Anevia along, Thawm notices the far off look.
"Hey Anevia, anything bothering you?"
Ahmose sighs as the final two flies fall. The Alchemist then waits for a full 6 seconds before quickly taking out his alchemy tools, vials of liquids and begins mixing them!
The crafty Blue-scaled Kobold then replaces his tools, stuffing the vial in a pocket. Smiling at those gathering about after such a display of prowess, Ahmose winks at them, as he passes by to investigate the outer buildings before turning his attention to the main.
As the last fly falls, Dorek sheaths his blade, drawing a dagger from the bandolier on his chest and inserting it into his wrist sheath again. He glances over at Cecily, his one red eye narrowed in thought. "I've n-never seen anyone f-fight with just their h-hands like that. You k-know, my g-grandfather was at D-drezen when the w-walls fell - he s-spoke of an Iomedaean h-holy man - A-argil, I think - who s-strode through the battlefield, with n-no weapon s-save the s-strength of his c-convictions, and n-no armor save the s-shield of his faith. He w-walked without fear, calling the i-injured to s-stand up and f-fight, and w-where he went, t-the soldiers g-gained the s-strength to c-continue on." He shrugs. "W-who knows? P-perhaps someday, y-you will do the s-same."
Noticing the strange look on Anevia's face, he glances towards where her vacant gaze rests, his brow furrowing in confusion. After a moment, he shrugs, moving in the other direction - near where he threw his dagger - in the hopes of recovering it, then taking Aravashnial's hand again, guiding him towards the building. "T-this old g-god palace looks fairly s-stable - I t-think we could take s-shelter here. W-we'll be s-safe here while we l-look for the way b-back." He glances around the cavern. "S-someone l-lived here once - t-they had to have g-gotten down here s-somehow. I'm s-sure there's s-some way to the s-surface."
He peers around the temple to look at the sheer rock face beyond. "L-looks like the path ends h-here. Let's h-hope there's a way f-forward in here, or else we'll all d-die in these caves." Shrugging, he moves to the door, checking to see if it opens. "This is a t-temple of T-torag, you said? The d-dwarf forge-god? H-his god p-palaces often have g-good locks - I m-might need my t-tools."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
"Great work everyone!" Tandyn slides the fly down his blade gently crunching its exoskeleton with his boot. "Here's hoping we're not forced to eat these things."
He begins watching Ahmose's performance while cleaning his blade. Can that be safe to drink? Did he even take time to measure? After finishing up, he readies his sword and turns his attention to the door. "Locks? Tools? What are the odds we'd be so lucky as to have a locksmith with us? Now, we don't know how bad it is in there... so once it opens, please be behind my shield."
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Aroden watches patiently while Dorek talks about picking the locks. He thinks about the dwarven god some more.
Orderly fellow, as I said before. Believes in doing things the right way.
A champion of his people, nothing wrong with that. Maybe a little harsh with the orcs and goblins, but really, it's hard to fault him for that. They are quite difficult after all.
Forged the shell of the Dead Vault with Gorum, I believe. I wonder how that is holding up? Never did get the full details on how it worked. Well, not yet, anyway.
Cecily ruminates a moment on Dorek's story and glances over her bloody knuckles and the torn silk gloves over them that are still managing to conceal her own wicked talons. "Perhaps. I haven't been close enough to the front lines to need armor, but my master is...was...teaching me to fight. To avoid blows and strike with my focus," she holds up a clenched fist, "And not with my...baser urges." She flexes her fingers and quickly pulls her glove to cover as one of her claws slices through her glove. She eyes Dorek's claws, opens her mouth as if to say something, but turns her attention back to the Crusader. "But I am no warrior, not like Sir Tandyn."
She wrinkles her nose in disgust at the thought of eating [i]"I would rather go hungry. But I do have a bit of food on me, if it comes to it."[/b]
Looking to Thawm, she stretches out her arm where the fly savaged her and winces. She pulls out a small vial and shakes it. "Do you have any more capacity to heal, miss? If the others are in fighting shape."
Dorek and Tandyn find that the door to the temple isn’t locked. But it is stuck from years of disuse.
"Hey Anevia, anything bothering you?"
Anevia waves her hand dismissively, ”It’s my leg. I just need some rest.”
Horgus Gwerm mutters under his breath within earshot of Aroden, ”She’s slowing us down. We should split our group up and return later when…”
Horgus is unable to finish his sentence as Anevia, apparently hearing Horgus, explodes in hot rage,
Horgus is clearly taken off guard by the outburst and his face turns red with anger. He contemptuously remarks, ”Ironic isn’t it? That a thief and criminal such as yourself would presume to accuse me of consorting with demons.”
Anevia’s eyes narrow at the man, clearly livid.
Thawm starts to turn to Cecily before Horgus and Anevia start having a shouting match.
Thawm tries her best to cool the heated argument down.
"Hey now, we've all had a long day, the last thing we need to do is start fighting each other."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Aroden applies his godly insight to the matter.
He senses... incredibly... that there is tension between Anevia and Horgus.
Thinking quickly, he calls upon his divine powers of persuasion and raises his hands in a gesture of peacemaking.
"Take heart, Anevia. We shall not leave you behind.
Horgus, I am sure you can see that we would not wish to rush in any event; proceeding at a slower pace allows more thorough scouting of the dangers.
I know not the faith of either of you. These are matters of the heart, are they not? Our actions are what matter here.
I ask that we work together to leave this place. Should there be sins to atone for, we may find abundant opportunity. A great evil has come to Kenabres; we must band together for the good of the city."
Cecily steps slightly between the two, turned just so toward Anevia, and she addresses the woman firmly. "If a time comes that we need to move quickly, I'll carry you. We leave no one behind."
"Perhaps. I haven't been close enough to the front lines to need armor, but my master is...was...teaching me to fight. To avoid blows and strike with my focus and not with my...baser urges. But I am no warrior, not like Sir Tandyn."
At Cecily's words, Dorek stops his work, tilting his head to the side as he considers. "N-not a warrior? I'd t-think learning to fight from a d-dragon would help with that." He shrugs. "I've n-never had real t-training with blades - the o-overseer in the prison w-work group just said to 'p-poke the pointy bit into the o-other guy until he s-stops moving.' I p-practiced with the d-dagger growing up - e-everyone does, this c-close to the Worldwound, and it c-comes in handy in the G-gate District s-slums - and I did some k-knife throwing when I was y-younger, but it's so d-different with living c-creatures." He looks worried. "I've n-never actually k-killed anyone, you k-know. Do you t-think we'll have to? S-seems like a terrible thing to d-do to someone, even if they a-are a cultist and e-everything."
Trying the handle, Dorek finds that it turns easily, but that the door refuses to budge. "W-water damage, it l-looks like - I've s-seen this sort of thing b-before. Water s-seeps into the boards, they s-swell, and they get w-wedged in the f-frame." He gives it a half-hearted shove with his shoulder, but the spindly locksmith is unable to muster any real force. "N-normally, I'd take a c-crowbar to the frame, but I d-didn't think I'd need a-all my tools on a d-day like this." As per Tandyn's directions, he moves aside to let the stronger warriors try, stepping back...
...and right into the middle of the argument between Anevia and Horgus. His brow furrows in anger, and he speaks up after Aroden is done. "L-look, there is likely t-truth to both your w-words. H-horgus, for a 'thief and c-criminal,' Anevia seems to be d-doing a lot m-more to help us escape than y-you are. A-anevia, can you b-blame Horgus for h-hiding his faith in Kenabres? The f-fortress of the Inquisitors?" His lambent red eye flicks between the two, glaring at both. "Whatever g-grievances you have, they're b-beside the point - right now, we're t-trapped, Anevia can barely w-walk, and Aravashnial m-might not ever s-see again. Could we m-maybe have this argument when we're b-back in the city and not b-buried alive?"
"I think she's talking about the first three letters, Dorek. She's clearly a capable fighter - and likely my match - but war, well..." Tandyn's thoughts flash back to friends who were horrifically ripped apart accomplishing objectives that didn't last and decides not to burden his already anxious friend. "it's another matter."
He places his foot on the door and takes out his tension on it.
"It should open now."
"That's right." He says backing Cecily "Iomedae commands it."
Arodend's words seen to mullify both Horgus and Anevia. With what looks like great effort Horgus says, "Anevia I am willing to put our differences aside until we are delivered safely to the surface if you are."
Anevia scowls at the noble but releases her anger agrees, "Fine."
Tandyn forces the door:
A stone bench lines the southern wall of this chamber. At the far side of the room, a basin of water sits atop a stone pedestal. A stone door engraved with an image of a hammer stands to the north. In the basin is holy water, you could take it with you if you had a container for it.
Thawm sighs with relief.
"C'mere, Cecily." she explains before she starts showering Cecily with fiery healing for half a minute.
Thawm realizes what the basin is filled with, it looks much like the one in the temples to the Dawnflower that she's visited. She takes some time to retrieve her bowl from her mess kit, put the rest of it away, and scoop up a bowl's worth of holy water.
"Holy water!" she explains cheerfully with one hand now interminably occupied by a bowl of the stuff.
After inspection of the ruin outer structures, the Alchemist returns in time to view the interior of the main building.
I have something of a parchedness situation going on here. That basin fresh?
As the door opens, Dorek glances into the narrow room apprehensively. "We won't all f-fit in there - does that d-door there open?" His brow furrows as Thawm extols the virtues of the holy water. "W-what's so special about it? W-water is water - r-right?"
After a moment, he squeezes his spindly body past Thawm to examine the stone door, looking over it with a nervous expression on his face. "I d-don't think they'd l-lock the door to the inner s-sanctum, but it's n-never a bad idea to be c-cautious. This l-looks like a wayside s-shrine - w-wanderers may have once p-prayed here, and they may have l-left a map back to the s-surface." The young locksmith glances back out at the other survivors outside the antechamber. "T-tandyn, if the door opens, I'm no w-warrior, not like y-you - do you t-think something might still be h-here in this shrine?"
Relaxing slightly as the non-combatants back down from one another, Cecily breathes a heavy satisfied sigh under the warm sparks of her flesh knitting back together. "Mmm, that feels nice. Thank you, Thawm!" She examines the fresh skin and the awful condition of her dress above it. "Shame it doesn't work on clothing. I don't think the staff will ever be able to get this dress clean."
As the others explore the shrine, she keeps an eye on the enteance into the grotto and their injured charges.
Broken stone benches line this narrow room. The air is cold and stale, and thick layers of dust cover the floor, benches, and a large altar at the far end of the room. A mummified dwarf corpse sits on one of the benches as if serenely contemplating the altar. You notice a pouch on the belt and a knotted gold ring on its withered hand. A dust covered warhammer lies on the floor.
"Always possible, but right now I have a larger concern." He begins walking through the entrance room and raises his voice. "If there's anyone here, my companions and I would quite like to for some of this holy... never mind." He looks back to the group. "We should perform their death rites."
Dorek enters the main chapel warily, relaxing as he sees no clear danger. He glances around at the wreckage of the chapel before his eye comes to rest on the skeletal priest. After a moment of hesitation, he steps forward, drawing a dagger from his bandolier and cutting a line across his palm, then writing a series of Hallit glyphs in his own inky blood across the stone bench.
He steps back, a sheepish look on his face. "It's an old K-kellid death r-ritual - the b-blood helps the spirit f-find its way to the next w-world." He clears his throat before nodding to the pouch at the cleric's waist. "If there's a m-map in here, it would be in t-there, I think. S-still, it may be b-best not to disturb the d-dead."
"I will offer a donation to the Temple of Torag upon our return, Sir Tandyn. Assuming the one in Kenabres still stands."
He racks his brain for details of Torag's death rites, and comes up with generally the same information as Sir Tandyn.
"Yeah. Let's. We might want to donate the rest of the deceased's belongings too. Or bury them with him?" Thawm asks, unsure of the rites herself.
Ahmose slides casual like into the mummified dwarf chamber. The Blue-scaled Kobold whistling a merry tune, as he casually walks up to the
mummified dwarf. The Alchemist peers suspiciously around it...
Duly noticing a pouch on the belt and a knotted gold ring on its withered hand, Ahmose casually slips them off the mummified dwarf.
This ring is worth 125gp
The Alchemist shrugs.
Just in case we find his family...
Tandyn and Aroden between them talk out what they know of dwarven burial rites. Typically the funeral will only be attended by close family members and it would be an affront to have outsiders present. You're not sure what happens when no such persons are available.
The funeral takes nearly 8 hours to perform with ritual dirges and chants. The body is placed deep underground and slowly one by one rocks are set around the body and on top.
Some, but not all, dwarven clans consider it an affront to put valuable metals and materials back in the ground with the deceased. You're not sure about this particular dwarf.
"I see that Ahmose has taken the ring for safekeeping, for return to this dwarf's rightful heirs.
A wise decision.
I am ready to proceed."
Ahmose does his best impression of innocent plausibly denial....
Tandyn strains to remember the right way to do this. He closes his eyes and tries to visualize his instructors' lessons about Torag. There was an entire demonstration wasn't there... What was it... rocks and dirges... He sighs as he remembers. "It would seem that we lack the time, their family, and even the songs of Torag. We can't do this properly. That too should be left to their heirs when things have calmed. Let's place the body behind the temple, surround it with rocks, and do our best to clean this place up as they would have."
Tandyn gestures to Aroden to help him lift the corpse gently and proceeds with the plan.
"I have an idea."
He approaches one of the hammer icons in the temple.
"Torag, we beseech your indulgence. Although we are not dwarves at all, let alone the kin of this one, still we respect the Forge-Father. Please allow our respect for you to make up for our deficiencies in kinship to this dwarf.
We seek to bury him that his remains be undisturbed by the demons of Chaos and the vermin that have come to this place.
Ours is a poor imitation of a proper Dwarven burial, but it is the best we can do.
Consider also our cleaning of the temple as an offering of honest labor to you."
Having spoken his apology to Torag, Aroden will help as Tandyn indicates. First a basic burial of the body, then cleaning the temple.
Thawm shrugs and helps clean, carrying clumps of dust bunnies out of the temple and burning them with regular magical fire.
Once Tandyn and Aroden have done their best, Thawm looks to Ahmose and Dorek expectantly to see who will try scouting ahead first this time.
| 3 people marked this as a favorite. |
Cecily looks around at the building and the cavern. "Seems to me he's already buried in rocks."
She's ready to go 2 minutes into the discussion but at least knows how to put on her patiently-and-politely-waiting-face.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Dorek helps as much as he can with the burial - he is not particularly strong, but he is still able to do his part in helping in the dead priest's funeral rites, standing by nervously as Aroden takes the lead on religious matters.
Afterwards, he helps to clean the temple, finding stones from the rubble outside to prop up the broken benches and restore them to a semblance of functionality. He hums as he works, grinning. "It almost feels n-normal, you know - c-cleaning, I mean. It's s-silly, but it makes me f-feel like I'm j-just in the home of a m-messy neighbor who's just s-stepped out for a bit. Makes me f-forget that I'm buried alive in a c-city occupied by demons, and that e-everyone I knew is p-probably dead..." At this, his smile falters, but after a moment, it returns, albeit forced. "W-well, like I s-said, it makes you f-forget those sorts of t-things."
Finishing with his work, he stands and brushes himself off, nodding to Cecily. "I s-suppose you and I are l-luckier than most - I expect you h-have lots of family outside of K-kenabres who wouldn't have d-died in the attack. My uncle Zuron's a w-wine merchant in the city of G-gundrun - the demons haven't t-touched there since the C-clefthorn Clan took over, not r-really. My f-father Kemlik Noclan was f-from Hajoth H-hakados, so I've p-probably got some f-family there, too." He glances around before leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to the noble-born monk. "They s-say that my father's k-kin are a d-distant part of the Vorlesh-Widowknife f-family - b-better to be c-clanless than to bear t-that name, yes?"
As he moves outside, he looks slightly nervous as he notices Thawm's gaze, only to realize a moment later that she means scouting down the passageway. "I'll g-go on aheaad. Should only be a b-bit." He slips off into the darkness, his movements careful and measured as he blends with the shadow.
Ahmose sighs as the two Humans begins discussing different funeral rites from the already buried and entombed dwarf. The Blue-scaled Kobold actually snickers as they begin lifting things and putting them back down.
That seems fun. Too bad my lower back is a bit tight from all the waiting around recently so....
The Alchemist does take out a bottle of spirits that he may have appropriated from some celebrating drunk he passed on his way into the city. Offering it up, taking a pull and pouring a bit onto the burial mound, the follower of Cayden Cailian smiles.
Not certain about dwarf gods, but Cayden enjoys a drink at any funerals!
Once all the ceremony is completed, the Alchemist nods excitedly at Thawm and expectantly at Dorek.
Be right back. Try not to get dead, Dorek.
Ahmose slides on down the tunnel....
Torag’s response to Aroden’s prayer is as cool and silent as the stones around you. While you bury the dwarf you remain unmolested however.
You continue down the passage for at least 3000 more feet, which takes about 40 minutes to traverse. Until you come to a cavern:
Stone figures are carved into the walls of this cavern. Each depicts a different crusader clad in armor and wielding weapons, but their carved stone features contain expressions of sadness.
As the hapless pair scout ahead they are suddenly enveloped in an inky darkness.
Round Surprise