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Barshevy struggles back up to the tunnel opening.
"Shall we proceed now?"
"I don't want the zain-kin, or whoever is behind those brutes, to steal it from us. I have a suspicion that it has shielded us from their magical surveillance."
"I'd rather not be holding it. I find it repulsive."
Barshevy piles his equipment back into his pack, including the hand, which he places in the middle of the jumble. "My guess is the hand is the tool of someone or something that wants us to confront the zain-kin. Of course, the way it has been trying to help does not suggest a creature of benign character." He then turns to Rin. "Are such cursed things difficult to conjure? How powerful would a mage need to be?"
"Yes, it's the hand. It's been manipulating my emotions, and gods knows what else. But to what end? Does it seek to aid us? The little demon tried to steal it from Lafiel. Which means the enemy doesn't want us to have it."
"I wonder if it's necessarily bad." The cleric kneels down to look at the hand in the torchlight. "Just then when I saw the new dragon amulet I fought off the urge to claim it for myself. It was the same feeling as when we found the sack of gold. When I wanted to use the gold to placate the spirit-guardians, that possessive feeling disappeared."
The cleric tears his pack off, unfastens its latches, and upends the contents all over the tunnel floor.
"I think I've been cursed. My thoughts stray in such a way that is, shall we say, uncharacteristic of me."
"Rin, could you look at me with your eldritch sight?"
"I .. there is something wrong with me," says Barshevy in a harsh whisper.
The cleric edges up to the pots. He studies the items, while taking care not to touch anything.
"Hmmm. The zain-kin have been dead for a while, obviously. Why didn't their people come looking for them? Or perhaps they did, but this chamber, these tunnels, are unknown to them." The cleric looks suspiciously at the remaining pots. "And if this is a secret place, what were these two doing in clandestine?"
"Almost everything we have encountered in this realm has something to do with the Queen of Wyrms. I wonder if the scene before us is the aftermath of a ceremony gone awry."
"I'm coming!" Barshevy stays in the center of the procession.
"The enemy has not been able to scry us at all ever since we entered the chasm. No zain-kin have been able to find us since then. This is the work of Pelor, I'm sure of it. Oh, great sun-father, your servant thanks thee!"
Barshevy looks out upon primeval Parhok. It takes him a while to find his voice again. "I don't suppose we can lodge a complaint with the mayor and then be on our way back home? No? Such adventures never end peaceably, do they? With everyone realizing it was all a simple misunderstanding."
Barshevy: ** spoiler omitted ** Spoiler:
Oops, forgot to check!
"I'll take third."
"Yes, we must keep an eye out. Everything in this gods-forsaken place is suspect. Speaking of which, I should give that altar another look."
The cleric looks much relieved after destroying the mummy hand. "The staff I cannot use. It's a symbol of Tiamat. And she is is no friend of Pelor, to say the least."
"Good idea Rin. Please, everyone, step back. I don't know what will happen next." Once his companions have retreated back into the outer corridor he begins a holy chant.
The cleric backs away from his pack, where the hand has been waiting for him. "Ah! There is evil in this horrid place! Pelor, please protect me! Protect us!"
"What? I hope it's not what I think it is!" He sets down his backpack and opens it up.
Barshevy approaches the party's resident mage. "Rin, is it possible for you to know if the serpent staff has powers?"
"In the distant past, humans once worshiped the spirits of beasts and such. These poor, primitive folk somehow associated snakes with Tiamat, the god of dragons. It wouldn't surprise me if the Parhok people worshiped Tiamat in this snake form."
Barshevy relaxes, smiles and presents the staff to Fargrim in exchange for the sunrod. To Lafiel he says, "no, my dear. Those coins have a cursed magic about them. It made me insane with greed, which is why I practically tore it out of your hands. I'm sorry, my friends, I had no control. I am now myself again."
The cleric gives the dragonborn a look of irritation. He touches the staff, then lifts it off the altar ...
Tossing the empty sack on the floor, Barshevy is about to take the staff. But then he stops and eyes the skeleton suspiciously. He takes out his holy symbol and begins to pray ...
Barshevy hands his sunrod to Fargrim. He holds the sack with both hands and proceeds to the altar, then pours the glittering golden coins into the copper bowl.
The cleric enters the altar room, sunrod in one hand and bag of coins in the other. "Ah, yes. Just as Lafiel described it." He lifts the bag up and addresses the serpentine wraiths. "I believe this belongs to your god." He takes half a step towards to altar.
Barshevy follows Lafiel.
"Of course not. I'll wait until everyone is rested and ready."
The cleric sets down his pack and removes two items. His remaining sunrod, which he activates, and the sack of gold he quarreled over. "The altar you told us about is inside. Right, Lafiel?" he asks.
DM Spoiler: I'm getting the idea that the coins I found are supposed to go in the copper bowl at the altar. Would I be able to test that out? Or would the curse prevent me from even considering it?
Barshevy slides down the rope and immediately begins prayers for Drivish's full recovery.
"Hmmm? What? Oh, yes. I'll see what I can do about those wraiths."
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