Lann states, "There is a story of a crazy dwarf that wanders the tunnels looking for something, always looking. Though I have not seen much down here but vermin, sporecreatures and mongrelmen."
Lann looks at you and asks, "If this is your way of asking about the dwarf I don't know as I said we haven't seen him."
He asks about the spore-cougher before approaching the scene. "Ah you mean a basidirond. Good they don't move."
Onyx goes to search the dead men and area. Next to a strange heap of ropy green fungus he states, "This is the remains of the basidirond. Noactive spores and they are dead."
He brings back the two masterwork chain shirts, two tabards of Iomedae, a potion (of cure light wounds), (a scroll of cause fear) in a pouch, 129 gp, 2 glaives, 2 spiked gauntlet, and a small symbol of a brass bull’s head with tiny red gemstone eyes. This is an unholy symbol of Baphomet worth 50 gp.
He states, "This is a potion of cure light."
The mongrels are obviously relieved the “spore-cougher” is dead, and are
eager to continue north to Neathholm but are willing to linger long enough for the PCs to investigate the bodies.
As you ask about the dead men, Lann notes that they’ve seen others like them in the tunnels before. Lately, their presence in the tunnels has increased. Furthermore, the mongrels say that they have some sort of alliance with a different tribe of mongrels—a bad tribe—that lives in a small complex southeast of Neathholm.
Horgus doesn’t care one way or another about the bodies.
Anevia is disgusted and Aravashnial delighted. Both have heard the rumors that the cult of Baphomet, known to some as the Templars of the Ivory Labyrinth, had infiltrated various mercenary groups, but proof that at least two had been disguised as Iomedaean crusaders is something else entirely. Anevia becomes even more worried for her wife, while Aravashnial argues that they should bring the bodies with them so they can
be identified by the church.
After dwarf becomes visible again, but yet conscious again, Preacher attempts to identify the dwarf's possesions.
failure (is it magical?)
failure (are they magical?)
failure (is it magical?)
failure (magical cloak)
failure (is it magical?)
success if magical and caster level no higher than 10th. (Is it magical?)
success
failure
failure
success
failure (is it magical?)
"His cloak is magical. Not sure about these two potions, this one could heal more of the damage that tentacled thing did to me." Preacher mentions, waiting to see if any are opposed to him drinking it to help heal his still-battered body.
He continues, "I am not sure about two of the scrolls, but this one is a scroll of resist energy."
"I do not know which spells are in his spellbook. Should we still not have identified them, whenver I next manifest Maiden Medusa, she can tell us what spells the spellbook contains."
Preacher casts detect magic and attempts to identify the scroll that Onyx did not.
"The scroll is for cause fear."
scroll of shocking grasp
cloak
potion
He agrees, "Yes the cloak, potion and scroll are magical. The scroll is of shocking grasp, the cloak is of resistance, and the potion is of cure light wounds. I am very willing to wait... let me try something..."
He focuses and draws energy into his core, the glow between his scales intensifies and all within 30 feet feel a pulse of positive energy.
From area F, the tunnel winds north for about 1,100 feet (about 15 minutes of travel at a speed of 15 feet) before reaching a circular, 20-foot-diameter cavern. Four mongrelmen stand guard here before a large stone door.
The guards greet their mongrel companions warmly. While they eye the rest of you with suspicion, Lann’s word is good enough to let them all enter the chamber beyond the door.
Beyond the stone door lies the settlement of Neathholm. A small, dark lake ripples in the center of this two-hundred-foot-wide cavern, the walls and ceiling aglow with thick sheets of luminescent fungi. In the center of the lake, over two dozen low stone buildings cluster on a rocky one-hundred-foot-wide island. Lights glow in the windows of the buildings, giving the settlement an almost welcoming look. Rafts made of
mismatched planks of timber bob along the length of a crooked pier at the lake’s closest shore.
Lann, Dyra, and Cler escort the you to the largest building atop the island’s low central peak—this is the home of Chief Sull, a bloated and unpleasant-looking but mild-mannered mongrel with one clouded white eye.
Chief Sull listens to Lann’s report and thanks your group for their attempts to free the trapped mongrelman. He then asks your group to explain their presence in the caverns.
Once Sull learns the source of the tremors that shook the tunnels and
caused so much damage, he grows quite concerned. He and his kind, Sull
explains, may be outcasts and freaks in the eyes of uplanders like yourself, but their ancestors helped drive back the demons in the First Crusade. He wants the demons defeated as much as anyone who lives above,
and asks if you are willing to bring this message to the surface—that the mongrels will stand with the inhabitants of Kenabres to defend the city.
Assuming you agree, Chief Sull nods sagely and goes on to inform you that the nearest route to the surface lies to the south, but this exit is guarded by a tribe of mongrels who do not have the same opinions as
those of Neathholm. In fact, this smaller tribe, a group he contemptuously calls “the traitors,” have consorted for some time with cultists. Chief Sull has ignored them, but that time has passed. If you agree to destroy the traitors as they make their way back to the surface to bring word of the mongrel’s pledge to aid the crusade, Chief Sull
promises them aid in the form of a small stash of potions (six potions of cure light wounds and three potions of lesser restoration). His own soldiers, alas, he cannot spare—he needs them to fan out deeper into the tunnels to gather the other mongrel tribes to Neathholm. Once they receive word that the crusaders above will welcome the crusaders
below, the mongrels will be ready to rise up and help take
back Kenabres.
You can rest in Neathholm safely for as long as you want, though they undoubtedly want to return to the surface as quickly as possible. The mongrelmen of Neathholm trade occasionally with other underground
races and willingly accept both gold pieces and items in trade if you wish to restock. Once you are ready to move on, Chief Sull escorts them to one of the several doors that mark exits from the cavern in which
Neathholm is located—the route beyond this door leads directly to the traitors’ den, and past that, to the surface. He wishes you luck in
your journey, gives them the potions he promised, and tells them he eagerly awaits word of whether the crusaders wish them to join the battle above.
Horgus is disgusted by Neathholm and can’t be away from the place quickly enough.
Anevia is intrigued by the possibility of recruiting the mongrels to aid the crusade.
Aravashnial is delighted to learn that there are entire societies of “mole people” and “pitlings” under the city,
Xantor rushes next to Arashnival. "Bees With Honey! Don't use dergogatory terms. 'They. He. She. That kind of noise."
Preacher, the same thoughts regarding Arashnivial crossing his mind, also lowers his voice so that only the elf and Xantor can hear his words, "If it is not too much to ask you, please use phrases when you are talking about them as a teacher would use when speaking to their young students, instead of terms that might be perceived as slurs by some. We want to be gracious guests for our gracious hosts, do we not?"
In response to Chief Sull, Preacher says, "A chance to rest for the night before we continue our journey back to the surface would be appreciated. We can deal with your foes on our way there tomorrow." Preacher then looks at each of his recent travelling companions to see if there any opposed to the thought of staying put and getting some sleep in the safest location they have come across since falling down from the surface.
She too makes a polite bow at their host
"We, both of us, accept your offer and extend our gratitude towards you and your people for accepting us. We sadly can not offer much in recompense due to how quickly all this happened"
Chief Sull quickly replies to Sylvara, "If anything this is our recompense for you saving Crel. Rest, eat, and sleep, we will have food brought here and the rooms below are yours just dont break any locks."
|
Guriok is amazed at Neathholm and says to Chief Sull "Your hospitality is welcome. Today has been a... crazy day... I think we need to process everything. I know I do. The demonic invasion is bad enough, but the death of a magnificent creatures such as Terendelev is a sad day for all Golarion."
As they find a place to rest, the half-orc joins the mongrels in their day-to-day activity, trying to learn their ways and even sharing his knowledge of threads and needles. In a way, he feels close to them. Being half orc and half human means that Guriok is never completely accepted in any society in the surface.
He is glad to hear the talk of "taking back Kenabres". He says to Preacher "We've been so disoriented by these caves that I never really thought of what happens when we get back to the surface. I suppose we should start thinking of a counter-offensive. But I do wonder, how many survived the attack? Can we take back a city by ourselves?" He isn't sure he wants an answer to his question.
Xantor sits with the civilians, keeping them company.
Noticing Horgus's sour disposition, the oracle offers, "At least you'll get a interesting story out of this misadventure, Silvertongue."
Xantor checks on the conditions of the other two injured. I hope the senior clerics can heal Arashnivial of his blindness when we get back on top.
He is glad to hear the talk of "taking back Kenabres". He says to Preacher "We've been so disoriented by these caves that I never really thought of what happens when we get back to the surface. I suppose we should start thinking of a counter-offensive. But I do wonder, how many survived the attack? Can we take back a city by ourselves?" He isn't sure he wants an answer to his question.
"Just as we fell down into an earthen 'pocket' of sorts, our group is probably not the only such group of strangers that found themselves in similar circumstances."
Captain Fergus joins in, "We will kill as many of those abyssal spawn as it takes to reclaim the city...and my ship!"
Preacher waits a few moments after the captain has vented some of his anger regarding leaving his ship unattended, "Our first course of action should be rounding up any other survivors like ourselves, so we have a larger fighting force, and if needed, fight our way to wherever the crusaders have set up major camps with greater numbers."
Xantor sits with the civilians, keeping them company.
Noticing Horgus's sour disposition, the oracle offers, "At least you'll get a interesting story out of this misadventure, Silvertongue."Xantor checks on the conditions of the other two injured. I hope the senior clerics can heal Arashnivial of his blindness when we get back on top.
[dice=Heal]1d20 + 10
With your and Onyx's dedicated healing. The rags are frequently changed and washed with fresh water. Alternating if there are no more fresh bandages. Their wounds seem to have not festered but additional healing would likely be appreciated. They should have been on bed rest but that was not an option.
"One problem at a time, if we list too many, we will run the risk of drowning ourselves in worry, we power on through the first, then the next. So right now, survival and escaping to the surface" she pats Arataure on the flank
Captain Fergus appears to exhale slightly in reponse to Guriok's words and pat on his back, a mixture of annoyance and gratefuleness appears briefy on his face.
The phantom's telepathic connection with Preacher makes it feel like he has been mates with the half-orc for the weeks Preacher has been travelling with Guriok, giving him a sense of feeling he has not really experienced for more than a century...that of the companionship and rapport he had while his entire crew was still alive. With that feeling growing with some of the strangers that fate had thrown into 'the pit' with Preacher, Guriok and himself. Some of the strangers reminding him of certain members of his former crew. He ponders talk he had heard about reincarnation during the century he sailed the Obari Ocean, Inner Sea and Arcadian Ocean on Fiend's Demise, and wonders about the possibility that some of the strangers-becoming-mates might be the reincarnated souls of members of his crew.
He then ponders whether objects, like his ship, could possibly have some sort of reincarnated form as well...as flashes of his ship being partially destroyed by the thing that forced him to slay his crew...with only Cruncher getting away, and his first mate left bleeding to death on deck when the thing made him swim to Liachora to witness the, now historic, destruction of his home port...and the positive feelings Guriok and strangers-becoming-mates have been making him experience become dulled, and his seething hatred regarding those montrosities and fiends returns to occupy the forefront of his mind....
As the big guy was administering to Arashnivial, Xantor remarked, "Me and Onyx have been changing your bandages often enough. What I'm seeing is good flesh trying to heal; which is very good! But the sooner we can you topside and resting, the quicker your recovery will be. I think you're gonna see again, Arashnival." The aasimar smiled.
Bengi spends her time talking to the mongrel folk after the brief meeting with Chief Sull. She likes the mongrel folk well enough. She does wonder though if the mongrel folk are being overly optimistic about the kind of reception they will receive on the surface. Sure, crusaders are happy enough to let them help now because they most surely need it right now. But later, if the immediate threat is eliminated?
Well, she knows how fleeting crusader gratitude tends to be. Later, they will find themselves accepted, acceptable, to the degree they can parrot the crusaders in appearance, words, and thought. Failure to do so could be deadly for them. Crusaders have a knack for finding demons whenever they find themselves feeling uncomfortable or not fully in control.
She is heartened to hear the crusaders she's traveling with finally start coming around to the notion they should have grasped from the outset. They need to get to the surface without delay the battle for the city hasn't paused politely, waiting for them to make their way back to it. As the Sarkorian saying goes: "The crusaders can always be trusted to do the right thing, once all other possibilities have been exhausted.”
At the end of the evening, Bengi has anyone, but especially those among the mongrel folk, who have any injury to gather close around her. She then sends out pulses of healing light until she is unable to do so any longer.
"Thank you, Bengi," Preacher tells her with sincere gratitude.
"Most helpful Bengi, I'm sure if they could, the injured would thank you too" she gives the healer an appriciative smile
"No need for thanks" Bengi replies to the gnome. "Tomorrow we must leave early and travel fast. We'll all need to be in the best condition possible."
"It is also what I have to offer to our hosts in return for their generosity."
Xantor picks up one of the Silver Scales of Terendelev, and a surge of information hits the aasimar's mind.
The most devastating information is that Terendelev is dead.
"Fuçk...", Xantor curses to himself, a great hope within himself dying.
After Bengi's channels he looks a bit upset. He checks on everyone if you allow it, looking and checking on your wounds.
After making sure Anevia and Arashnivial are tended to and settled he checks in with Xantor. He whispers in Infernal.
He then quickly stealths away.
---
When Preacher was passing them out he always seemed busy or occupied. Just as Preacher tries to bring it up again Onyx has slipped away.
He first moves to just be away from the group, then he slows down and takes off his cowl revealing his strong muscled body, a golden necklace and equips golden rings, bracelets, and a fine red and white religious scarf of Iomedae.
Then he goes and buys a Healer's kit, food, rations, and a few other items. He touches many of the folk as he passes and stops to help them with an ailment. Most look at him like he is crazy, for he knows of the ailment without them saying anything about it.
From the hamlet of Neathholm, the tunnel winds mostly
in a southeast direction for about 2,000 feet (26 minutes
of travel at a speed of 15 feet). The tunnel narrows down
at this point to a 5-foot-wide passageway, the walls carved
with picks and chisels.
Barricades made of heaped loose rocks and wooden boards
bisect this cavern. Beyond the barricades, a wooden screen
covers the lower half of a tunnel mouth.
Two mongrelmen maintain a watch here,
keeping an eye out for troublemakers.
Preacher hears Onyx whisper in Infernal, then telepathically asks the phantom pirate captain if he heard what Onyx whispered, to which Captain Fergus replies back through their telepathic connection that he had not.
Preacher telepathically asks the phantom if he wants to become silent via his incorporeal form, which is answered with a no, as the captain wants to remain armed with his magical rapier and shield.
|
|
Guriok notices Onyx walk away, but doesn't follow. It's not his problem anyway.
Before they set out to find their way up, Guriok asks Chief Sull "Hey, so, what can we expect to find in this place we're going. How many mongrels are there in this... rival... tribe? Is Diplomacy possible? If not, are they well armed?"
After making sure Anevia and Arashnivial are tended to and settled he checks in with Xantor. He whispers in Infernal.
He then quickly stealths away.
"Huh? Whaat!"
When Preacher was passing them out he always seemed busy or occupied. Just as Preacher tries to bring it up again Onyx has slipped away.
Xantor is exasperated that Onyx is acting strange again AND ducking out of sight. "GODSDAMMIT ONYX! Where the fuçk did you go now?!!"
In response to Xantor's shout, Captain Fergus rushes towards Xantor, "Do you know which way he went?"
Captain Fergus looks around to see if he can spot the missing group member.
Preacher joins the search for the wayward Onyx.
Onyx walks back... looking down at the ground... In Taldane and a sober tone he states, "I am sorry... I don't mean to be a problem..."
☆☆☆
He stands ready with the group when they are ready to head out. The wounded have brand new gauze and bandages. He even procured some salve that would let Anevia be able to walk on her leg for a battle if needed.
She happily accepts help from anyone but makes sure that Xantor and Onyx know she appreciates them. As Onyx informs her of the salve she spouts to the group to Onyx's detriment, "Onyx got me a salve that will allow me to fight normally!"
Whereas he is nearly completely reliant on the two and any other helping hands. He is very interested in what they see and keeps asking for descriptions. It is a bit annoying for most but at least he is not pointing out names that would be a detriment.
He continues to bad mouth people under his breath and keep his own company.
Before they set out to find their way up, Guriok asks Chief Sull "Hey, so, what can we expect to find in this place we're going. How many mongrels are there in this... rival... tribe? Is Diplomacy possible? If not, are they well armed?"
Chief Sull states, "You might be able to speak with them... you might be able to pull their ear... but most likely they see and attack you. I suggest a stealthy approach and neutralize as many as possible before an alarm is struck. We calling the Lair of the Vile and Vicious. We do not want any of them. They have proven time and again that talking does not work with them. I would guess that they number somewhere between 10 and 20. Beware we have been told they have new allies, tieflings with bull horns and a minotaur!"
Xantor holds in his anger, because he knows it's just making things worse.
"Onyx." The aasimar tries to talk in a calmer tone. "We have to keep our heads. Ever since the pentagram, you've been acting strange..er. Um, good job on the salve. Hopefully Anevia will not need to fight."
"That sounds dangerous, and we appreciate the help. Knowing some of what we will face gives us a little bit of advantage as we can keep track of who is left."
Looking at Onyx, ( ) ,she nods towards Xantor "Then perhaps stick with Xantor, if you wander off, we will have no way of finding you if you get into trouble. And that is something we can not afford at this time. We need to stay together and work our way up, we can not do this if we all split up for no apparent reason" she gives a heavy sigh
"Xantor, it will be best if you could alert us if your companion does disappear, we can at least then be on the lookout for his whereabouts, even if we cant form a search party"
Preacher says to Onyx, "If you are still feeling compelled to wander from Xantor, I could offer the two of you a bit of Shimmerella's string to make a loose tether of sorts, that would be easily broken whenever we come across foes, and if Xantor notices the string gets yanked off or falls limp, that he has an immediate indication that you have unintentionally wandered off again, and will be able to let the rest of us know before you have had a chance to have gotten too far away from the rest of us, to make it faster for us to help you clear your head of whatever compulsive magic has been messing with your mind."
After Xantor and Onyx give their reply regarding the offer of string, Preacher will then hold out a closed hand towards Onyx, "This is for you. There were enough of them for each of us to have one."
Captain Fergus walks over to Onyx, sheathing his cold iron rapier as he closes the minor gap of distance, causing his ectoplasmic rapier to dissipate. When he reaches Onyx, he bends over while standing in front of Onyx, and places the hand of his sword arm onto Onyx's left shoulder, as he looks him in the eyes, "I do not know what you are seeing or hearing, but you are aware that something is off with your senses, which is you claiming the start of your victory over whatever is messing with your noggin'."
After Onyx replies, he continues, "As for Preacher's offer of a mere string tether, it can help ensure you are not lost to us, eh? If it were not for the anchor line that keeps me and Preacher tethered, I would've turned into mist and returned to the nether already. The crew is better with both you and I to help 'em deal with the pests down here. When you healed Preacher yesterday, you also helped to keep me anchored. So keep up the good work, mate."
Captain Fergus then whispers in Infernal to Onyx,
"I will cover you so you can wipe 'em away if you need to, before I stand back up. Focus your emotions into resolve against whatever has been messing with your head. You have shown you have our backs, and we have yours."
Several seconds after the phantom whispers to Onyx in infernal, he stands back up and makes his way back to be closer to Preacher.
Bengi marches keeping a swift pace. She ignores the ongoing and seemingly endless drama. If people want to wander off that is their choice, and they will just have to live with the consequences of their choices as far as she's concerned.
Like a scolded child he sits down, seemingly naturally shifting into his small size.
He accepts the scale and flinches as it melts into his hands. He cries.
He looks at Captain Fergus and states, "I am a dual cursed oracle. The gods use me as a vessel at times. I don't mean..."
He looks up at the tiefling, "Thanks Fergus. I try my best."