"Yes. I'd say the door".
Snag wanders behind the others and looks around for anything interesting.
"I'll watch this eastern hall if you want to see where the northern one goes. The east hall is long, and we can see something coming, at least as far as the light shows." Lucien suggests to Anthony who is now out front.
"Good idea, Lucien."
Mira nods, moving to the north cautiously, shield raised. She's amazed how the dirt tunnel has transformed into this underground labrynthn of finished stone.
Snag stays with Lucien as the others check the northern hall.
'Defending' down the northern hall
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A red marble statue of a strikingly beautiful but, at the same time, monstrously enraged human woman stands in the middle of this room, her stony expression twisted in fury. The woman wears flowing robes, and her long hair is held back from her face by an intricate headdress of hooks and blades. In her left hand she carries a large book, the face of which is inscribed with a seven-pointed star. Her right hand holds a glittering metal-and-ivory ranseur.
Other than that there is nothing else in the room.
One thing of note, however, is that the ranseur in the statue's hands is not stone like the rest of the statue, but is rather a real weapon in the statue's hands and could be removed with some careful work or by breaking the statue. A quick appraisal puts this sale value at approximately 40 gold sails...
Lucien still stands guard watching the eastern facing hallway with Anthony just in case something comes from that direction, while the others scout to the north.
"I'd go look farther down this hall, Anthony, if you can send the light that way. I can't see anything in the dark. What do you think?" It's apparent the halfling has a hard time just standing still when things are afoot.
"Sure."
Anthony casts another Light spell and moves the light down the darkened hall.
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Lucien sneaks to the end of the long corridor to where the tunnel widens to a small chamber with a dais of gray stone with an apparent altar fashioned from a jagged block of black marble. There is a shallow concavity upon it filled with what appears to be filthy water...
The room seems unoccupied...
Lucien doesn't stay long. Seeing that the hallway ends in a room with an alter and a font, he turns tail and moves back to Anthony at the junction. Breathlessly, he tells the priest what he saw down there. "An altar of black marble...a font on top filled with filthy water...I don't know where we are, but I think we should just get out of here. It's creepy!"
"Perhaps it could be unused? Or, if it is unholy, perhaps it could be properly sanctified. Either way, we should go."
"Someone should take that ranseur. But, I'm just being a little paranoid here, but we should be ready for anything."
"Perhaps I can sneak up and look as well. Perhaps something will stir in my memory".
Stealth
"Snag will grab. Lucien sure there no traps though?" Snag says as he wanders up to the ranseur and considers how to twist it free.
The ranseur is like 3x the size of Lucien, and therefore not something he can easily wield, let alone carry. As a result, he leaves it to the others, if they want it.
Mira prefers one hand on her shield and thus lets Snag take the large bladed-weapon.
She doesn't like being split like this, so once Snag grabs the blade she says "C'mon, let's go see how the other two are doing and what that area looks like. We're getting too far apart for my comfort down here."
She leads her group back to Manny and Lucien.
Lucien wants nothing to do with the statue or the weapon, but he will, since asked, go and inspect the statue for any traps.
Mangrove admires the weapon... but it would only get tangled in his branches.
"Perhaps we could carry this back into town, then have someone transfer the magical rune to a more appropriate weapon"?
"I know it doesn't matter. Nothing does. But, should I take the weapon from the statue? What do you think?"
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The statue does not seem trapped in any way. You may roll the Thievery check to try to get it out, though depending how much time you want to give it, you can forego the roll. It is difficult, however, as the grip seems fairly tight, or at least, the centuries of settling of dust and other growths may be causing it to be stuck...
Sensing no traps, Lucien does his best to loosen the ranseur from the statue, if nothing else, they can sell it for coinage. He works as quickly as he can trying to get the heck of there before something terrible arrives on the scene.
Mangrove offers to help, casting guidance where he can and lending muscle when asked.
Snag lets those better suited to taking it to do so as he watches behind them for sneaky goblins.
"If we can't get this thing out, maybe its for a reason, suggests Lucien looking up at the face of the statue holding the weapon. "Maybe we can come back for it later?"
It's really not like the halfling to leave valuables behind, so you can tell he's really not excited about sticking around much longer.
Mira concurs, "I do not think it's imperative that we remove it at this moment. Let's remember to revisit it later."
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You return to your various places of residence, each of you spends some time reflecting on your skills and experiences. The revelations that you make, one by one, make you more and more confident in your abilities, ready to take on the next day!
Mangrove will spend time working with Quink to learn more history... he has a thirst for such things and is much better at telling tall tales than consoling the stricken.
RK: Arcana
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Quink welcomes Mangrove's visits, as the elder scholar helps the leshy find stories, but nothing seems to grab his attention. However, assuming that Mangrove brings up the sinspawn below the Glassworks, Brodert Quink grows excited and regales him with stories about the area being once a part of the Thassilonian nation under the rule of Alaznist, the Runelord of Fury...
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Mira sits alone on a stone bench in the courtyard, her polished warhammer leaning against her leg, her shield laid beside her. She's not in uniform today-just her worn but clean tunic and trousers. There are faint, dried smudges of blood at the cuff of her sleeve, a memory of the Glassworks. She's not always the best at washing and cleaning, there are more important things to focus on!
She stares at her reflection in her shield, brows furrowed, her thoughts heavy. The image of Lonjiku Kaijitsu, frozen in molten glass. Kusano’s tearful face. The monster that lunged at Lucien. The blood in the dormitory.... it was too much.
She doesn’t hear the quiet footsteps approaching until a smooth voice breaks the silence. "That’s a warrior’s expression if I’ve ever seen one."
Mira looks up quickly, surprised, but eases when she sees the woman-Salah, the priestess of Sarenrae from Qadira. She observes the womnna's golden earrings and the silver disk of the Dawnflower resting on her chest.
"Mind if I sit?" Salah gestures to the bench.
Mira shakes her head. "No. Please."
Salah lowers herself gracefully to the bench, folding her hands in her lap. For a moment, she says nothing, simply watching the sunlight.
"I saw you at the ceremony. And again yesterday, helping that boy-Kusano, is it? After what happened at the Glassworks."
Mira’s gaze hardens slightly at the mention. "I didn’t want him to see any more than he already had."
Salah nods. "Protecting the innocent, even when the world demands you fight. That’s not easy." She looks at Mira, her eyes sharp, as if she sees more than she lets on. "Have you ever heard the tenets of Sarenrae?"
Mira hesitates. "I know of her. The Dawnflower. Healing, redemption, fire. Stuff like that. But that is more for priests than people like me."
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Salah laughs, True, she needs her priests, but sometimes the Dawnflower needs warriors to protect the weak. Back in Qadira, the sun is unyielding, yet without it, there is no life. The harshness of her presence there belies a strength that many underestimate... Have you ever heard the Knights of... babla... erm, I think the closest translation would be Absolution?
Lucien spends the greater part of his downtime alone. He is really thinking about how it is to work on the "good guy" side of law and order, after spending his life so far in the grey areas. Doesn't pay as well, at least so far, and there is the whole risking your life thing, but there is a feeling of satisfaction he's never felt before. Knowing that there is a purpose to his life more than mere existence is unique for him, but the call is quite compelling.
At some point, he gets up and goes to look for the others so they can finish what they started. Saving Ameiko was one thing, but those goblins needed to be stopped, and whatever that journal showed was seriously bad for Sandpoint and the whole area. Time to do something about it!
Mira blinks, the foreign word catching her off guard. "The Knights of... Absolution?" she repeats, testing the phrase on her tongue.
Mira shifts on the bench, brow furrowing "No. I have not. They’re like... defenders then?"
Mira looks up at Salah, momentarily caught in the strange, golden shimmer dancing in the priestess’s eyes. It reminds her of the sunrise over the harbor. Warm. Unwavering. Full of purpose.
Salah’s words echo in her mind: The Keeper of Redemption needs her champions... and I see her heart in you.
Mira swallows the lump in her throat. She thinks of the boy she led out of that nightmare at the Glassworks. Of Ameiko. Of the weight of her warhammer. Of the growing fire in her chest that won’t let her sit by when others are hurting.
Her answer is quiet, but steady.
"Yeah. I guess I would."
She stands, shouldering her shield and lifting her hammer. She looks Salah in the eye, resolve forming in her.
"I want to fight for something more than just survival. I want to protect people. Not just swing a hammer when something scary shows up. If your training can teach me how to be that kind of warrior... then I’m ready."
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Mira follows Salah into the interior gardens of the cathedral, with the more mature woman speaking casually about her home and how if they were there, this would take place at an oasis outside of the city. The picture windows allow the sunshine to stream in over them, and the warmth feels good on Mira’s face as the temperature starts to become chillier with the coming winter.
Salah asks the young guard to set her hammer and shield to the side, then sit with her in the gardens. They sit for a while, Salah regaling Mira of stories of Sarenrae and her beginnings. She also gives the young guard rudimentary training in the arts of medicine, bringing in techniques from the Qadiran priestess’ homeland.
Come back, every dawn that you are able. We will continue your training, Salah says warmly, I have never had a student before, and I will send a messenger home and hopefully, they can send one of the Knights of Absolution over to complete your training.
The priestess laughs softly and gestures to your warhammer, The Dawnflower also favors the scimitar and slashing her enemies. If you are not married to the hammer, perhaps you may consider the curved blade. Though, she would be happy enough for you to carry one in tribute, even if it is not your first choice…
Snag focuses on his work at the school in the downtime.
Mira exhales slowly, the warmth of the sun through the glass making her feel more at ease than she has in days. She relaxes in the quiet of the garden, listening to the rustle of the wind and the soft voice of Salah beside her. She listens closely, not just to the stories of Sarenrae’s compassion and fury, but to the rhythm in which Salah speaks. Tthe cadence of a woman who has seen fire, and learned to control it rather than be consumed by it.
When the priestess begins showing her basic healing techniques, how to wrap a bandage more efficiently, the signs of a fevered wound, the pressure points to stop bleeding, Mira leans forward, hands marked with the scars of training and combat now learning gentler work. It’s not easy, but she listens, tries, and tries again. And again.
Come back, every dawn that you are able.
Mira gives a small, almost shy nod. I will."
The thought of being trained by a Knight of Absolution stirs something deep in her chest. She doesn’t quite know what path she’s on yet, but knowing someone will walk it with her-someone like Salah-makes it feel real. Possible.
She chuckles a little when the priestess gestures at her warhammer.
The hammer’s not going anywhere." Mira says with a crooked grin, affectionately nudging the weapon with her boot. "It’s ugly, heavy, and built for smashing things in front of me, which suits me just fine."
Then, after a beat, she glances toward Salah. "But... I wouldn’t mind learning the blade, too. I think. It’d mean something to carry both. One to defend, and one to redeem. Maybe?"