GM Dien's page

Argatha: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Brimble: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
Colin: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18
Em Salt: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (11) + 3 = 14
Phantrel: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13
Raka: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
Xiramona: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Though Raka cranes her eyes at the elevator cage's ceiling, and enlists the aid of the others to consider it, there is no obvious method by which the ceiling might be opened-- brute force would have to do an awful lot of heavy lifting if Raka intended to just try and batter through the seeming solid steel of the ceiling.

Phantrel inspects the elevator's strata-selection area for magic, but finds none to hand-- the elevator seems to contain no magic, as wondrous as it appears. (He does briefly learn how powerful all the auras of the weapons you collectively carry are, as the blaze of these auras leave lingering black spots on his vision for minutes later.)

"....So a rapid escape, while pleasing, creates more problems for me and Rune-that-Destroys... I for one, feel the GMC should be discouraged from this find. They'll gut this place, strip the gold from the walls, and generally peel back the wonder to reveal the wealth. I'm not sure I like that."

:You and I both do not, if what I have observed of your Gee Im Cee in your mind is accurate, Rune 'says' back to Argatha, with a little pulse of something that feels like gratitude for Argatha's consideration of the threat to the bow as well.

As for the government... which government, therein the question. Salt Spire itself has a mayor, as the locals can attest-- the same mayor who eagerly signed documents with Jalynor in the Salt Cellar's common room, a lifetime ago. (Okay, a few days.) Beyond that, Salt Spire ostensibly is under the protection of Riddleport, the largest city of any size nearby. Once a year, tax collectors from Riddleport come by, anyway.

"If you think any creatures down here can match us for intelligence, Xira, then you have severely underestimated at least one of us."

Brilliance-of-Heaven laughs brightly, approvingly, in Em's mind. :Oh, my little sparkling, thy spirit doth make me smile! We shall shine together.

******

Though Em listens at the heavy doors to the 'Fires of Torag', she hears no sound of whatever had caught Brimble's interest before.

******

The group cautiously heads west-er-ly through the broad tunnel that abuts the Vault. They pass several doors to the furnaces, and as they do so, they can register that the air around them seems warmer than it has elsewhere. It's a gradual thing, so slight that the mind might question it, but a hand placed on the southern wall of this corridor as compared to the northern does seem to determine the southern one is just a bit hotter.

I've moved the PCs to the northern hall on Steel Strata. Based on SOP so far, I assume Brimble will sneak slightly ahead to make sure nothing has changed since he was here before, though he's also near the limit of how far he scouted this bit previously. You are near to two Furnace doors, the Fires of Torag door, the Hammers of Torag door, and a little hallway marked 'Emergency' on the plaque. Let me know if anyone is investigating any of those in particular, or if the party is just continuing west, following the cart tracks you can see on the edge of the map. Also, is anyone currently wearing the fireleathers (or dustbeard/soundblocks/etc)?

Colin inspects the inside of the elevator shaft, marvelling at the very idea. He peers at any controls or components inside the shaft (such as cables or the like) wondering how the system is supposed to work. He looks to see if there's any obvious damage, and he wonders if it's simply not powered up.

Guess he can take 10 here for 17 on the check.

He then risks asking the rather cranky Professor how the elevator works asking, ::What are the operating principles of this elevator? Is it in working order? If not, is it something that could be fixed and are we capable of fixing it?::

The elevator shaft's interior is not like any elevator that Colin has seen before in all the times he's been on mines and digs. Lifts to haul supplies and workers out of the depths are common things, with ropes or chains typical for the actual lifting, and the 'power' being anything from winches to sheer grunt muscle. He doesn't see such cables here-- though admittedly, they might be attached only to the top of the elevator car, and therefore not visible from where you all currently stand, many feet below it.

What Colin does see is lots more dwarfgold. The lines are thick on the shaft walls, crisscrossing in a pattern that seems to spiral ever upward. It's maddening, to feel that this has something to do with it, yet to not have the background to let him understand... so Colin dares to poke the professor again.

The voice sighs peevishly at his query. There is the strange psychic sense of an intelligence sort of 'peering out' his own eyes to look at the elevator walls. :It's not receiving power, the Professor says with characteristic shortness. :The goldwork transmits electricity, boy. 'Lightning', if thou preferreth. The spark of creation-- and motion. As to if thou canst fix it: thou wouldst have to ascertain WHY there is no flow of power. Even I can hardly determine that from the sight of an unpowered lift shaft, any more than thou canst understand the nature of the dam that blocketh a river merely by observing a dry lake downstream.

****

A quick detour through the now-darkened temple, past the motionless form of Altynbekh, enables a return trip to the Vault. The steward listens to Brimble's request for a trap and Em's request for a net...

Trap kit?: 1d100 ⇒ 15
Net?: 1d100 ⇒ 25

"I apologize. It does not appear either of those items are in stock at the moment. I will submit a request for manufacture and restock," the clockwork steward says, tinnily.

A diplomacy check might earn you a little more from the Vault steward on the topic of those items specifically.

Brimble's follow-up query about the 'slagborn' earns a blank silence from the golden figure. In the silence one can hear the faint ticking of its internal mechanisms. Eventually the clockwork says, "I apologize. We do not appear to have 'slagborn' in stock. We do not manufacture 'slagborn' in this complex. I suggest you speak to either the Vaultmaster or the Steel Strata Overseer for fulfillment of an atypical request."

*******

Back the other way (unless you wish to explore a possible shortcut via the Guildhall!), hallway-temple-hallway, puts the group back in front of the second set of elevator doors.

The trusty crowbar that had been almost left behind in the Greyhand-Skywatch residence is brought forth once more and Phantrel and Em sweat over the doors for a few minutes, then feel the satisfaction of wrenching the doors back into the housing. When they finally force the doors open, they are looking not into a shaft, but rather, what must be the elevator car itself.

The room beyond is about ten feet deep and fifteen wide (and eight tall). The play of your lights reflects back at you from (of course) more gold.... Dwarf-gold lines depict stylized geometric mountains rising above a similarly abstracted repeating sea; above the mountaintops the elevator cage looks to be steel, though darkening to near black up at the ceiling. Quartz crystals, large and small, are set intermittently around the 'sky' of the chamber, on both walls and ceiling, putting you in mind of the stars back in the stunning entrance hall. The elevator interior has a level of elaborate decoration on par with the entrance hall, more than you've seen on Iron or Steel Strata.

On the interior wall, a panel contains runes for Iron - Steel - Silver - Gold - Mithral - Adamantine - Arkhorianite. A square of darkened glass, like the many ones you've seen on the doors so far, sits above these runes.

Using a tindertwig gives off a small flame which is sufficient to read the name on the pendant: Tonly Greyhand-Skywatch.

Xira also takes the opportunity to cross-reference her slate maps with the model miniature, discovering that the table that the mountain rests on is of the sort known as a 'lazy Susanna' which can be freely spun around to let a viewer access all angles of the mountain. While the detail in the model is not sufficient to check room for room on small details, it does confirm the general layout for her. She and Em can look at the model and determine that the 'Cavern Complex' evident to the northwest does seem to go up at least one more level, to Silver, but doesn't appear to reach all the way up to Gold. Conversely, the cavern to the south (the one visible through the window that Argatha was admiring) seems to reach all the way vertically from Iron to Gold.

Once the group has reconvened outside of any possible hearing range for the 'waterfall' panel and Brimble has shared what he suspects about it being a goblin access point, Xira feels something niggling at her. She pulls out the slate maps yet again, trying to cross reference where they've been, what's been noted so far, and what would be beneath the waterfall panel on Iron Strata. The elevator is here, and the stairs are here, so if you count approximate paces south...

Xira believes that the waterfall panel is likely directly above the room on Iron Strata that was labeled 'Laundry.' (You all read the plaque and glanced in from the doorway but nobody actually entered Laundry to investigate it any more closely, just FYI)

For a few moments, the group dithers near the mess hall entrance to the common room, taking the chance to sit briefly on the benches as they debate their options. The doorway to the Common Room doesn't appear to have been breached, and has another of the darkened glass panel locks; there are signs that someone might have scratched at it-- goblins? someone else? impossible to tell-- but it looks to have held. Altynbekh's presence on this level might have deterred theoretical goblins from spending a lot of time trying to crack the doors on this level-- even for yourselves it often takes multiple attempts, and you are, on average, stronger than most goblins.

One thing that you can agree is on the desirability to not have to swim through leech-filled waters AGAIN. To that end, opening the elevator doors that connect this level to the one beneath you seems like a good next immediate step.

Moved tokens back to the nearer of the elevator doors

Some grunting and puffing and crowbar use by Raka and Argatha forces the beatiful golden doors sideways into their housing, and you have an opened, empty elevator shaft that leads down to Iron Strata. Ladder rungs set into the far wall would make descent much easier than the path you had previously found-- there is a small ledge that connects the doorway side to the ladders. [Out of combat, there is no danger in navigating the ledge safely with take 10s to reach the ladder rungs. If you were in combat/rushed/etc then it would take Acrobatics checks to reach the ladder.]

Xira feels she has observed everything there is to observe about the model, at least. (That nat 20 may have retroactive benefits later on as having studied the model gives you insight into things as they come up.)

She also lends those same eagle eyes to looking around for anything else of interest in the cluttered chamber. The pile of possessions just inside the doorway turn out to be somewhat more interesting on closer inspection. What you had initially dismissed as cloak, boots, and so forth are indeed those things, but specialized. The cloak is more like a poncho, made of leather, but the leather is stiff and heavy and feels a bit tacky to the touch, as if the leather had been treated with some sort of chemical. Colin, investigating it by both touch and smell, is fairly sure that the leather poncho has been treated to be fire-retardant, as have the boots.

The pile also has a bright orange cloth you first assume to be merely a kerchief, but it has a number of straps and ties. Experimentation reveals it could be worn over a person's lower face, as some sort of filter-- perhaps for bad smells or debris in the air.

Xira also finds a small case in the bookshelf that contains a pair of small, white, bean-shaped... things? They're lightly squishy, but after squeezing, regain their shape quickly. It takes a few moments of consideration before someone makes the connection that these could be inserted in your ears-- when you do so, the noises you can hear drop sharply.

You have found one set of 'fireleathers', 'soundblocks', and one 'dustbeard.' A set of fireleathers occupies the wearer's feet and shoulders slots and provides fire resistance 5. Soundblocks are essentially earplugs on steroids; the bonus vs auditory effects increases to +5; the penalty is the same. A 'dustbeard' occupies the head slot and provides a +4 circumstance bonus on saves vs inhaled poisons/gasses/etc.

The suncatchers contain no magic that Xira can sense. The books on the shelves cover a huge variety of technical matters-- everything from mining techniques to the cutting of different varieties of stones and crystals; the manufacture of glass; the science of optics; mills, hydraulics, pumps, and other things that Xira doesn't have the full background to comprehend; fuels and combustion..... A person could spend weeks here reading and no doubt still have more to read.

Xira's magical sense confirms for her the same enchantments she already knows are present on the pendants-- the 'status' effect that is not something you all can take advantage of, as far as you know. She knows from Forgewise's words that the best way to read the names is to illuminate the pendants by firelight.

I can't remember if I had said something earlier about 'detect magic' letting you read the name of the pendant owners. In my head there wasn't, but as we've proven, my memory is not at all foolproof. Xira, if you remember something about detect magic letting you read a name, just let me know.

He wondered at the different levels and decided to consult The Professor. He sent a mental pulse towards the book ::We've found a remarkable model of Thurznchakh, we can see many Strata from iron up to Arkhorianite. Do these levels represent a social hierarchy? Also I don't believe I've heard of Arkhorianite before, does it have any interesting properties?::

Colin sweet-talking the Professor: 1d20 ⇒ 4

The voice that answers Colin seems crotchety-er than usual. :Boy, dost thou not recall what thou hast read? Arkhorianite! The reason for this entire complex. Clearly thou ought review thy texts, and harass me not with the questions of a first-year student! 'Hierarchy' - yes yes of course! From the common and mundane to the exceptional, tch.

(Grouchy, grouchy.)

Gazing around at the mountain diorama, both halves of it, Raka looks for exits. After some peering, she is fairly sure that they entered on the Gold Strata, which seems to be the largest in terms of footprint, and also (if the mountain-model is accurate) the 'tallest' - it seems to have very high ceilings compared to the other levels. There is a series of rooms at one end of Gold Strata that Raka thinks are the same by which you entered: that impressive entrance gallery with its starry night sky (in the diorama, the chamber is no bigger than Raka's thumb, and the primary thing that makes her suspect it's the same room is that the floor is decorated with a map, like the one you uncovered for real back in the entry gallery). A few more rooms go further in, and then there is a long vertical shaft that drops right to the water-- that must have been where you fell.

But what about other exits...?

Gold Strata seems to have two more passages that lead out to the mountain's exterior-- again, assuming the diorama is accurate. There is also a natural cavern complex that butts up to the excavated chambers at several points, including the Cavern Entrance here on Steel Strata; it looks as if some of the tunnels are showing going further into the earth, perhaps leading to real exits. Additionally, Mithral Strata has an apparent tunnel out to the mountainside exterior, as does Adamantine, and Arkhorianite has that entire big cylindrical hole that might or might not mean an exit.

Looking closely at the mountain, Em determines that the elevator shafts both seem to go all the way to the top. One of the diorama's elevators is actually operable-- a tiny gold thread and pulley allows the user to tug a small gold-wire cage, barely the size of a thimble, up and down inside the miniature mountain.

Cautiously, Colin pokes the bear Professor again, with Brimble's theory. It earns no more pleasant a response than before. :...what?? 'Dwarf-gold' not gold? What in blazes art thou on about? No no no. The conductive matrix along the walls is gold, primarily. A gold alloy at any rate. Use arkhorianite for mere electricity?! HA! (The Professor scoffs as a free action.)

Bingo, Argatha-- even if you've never played bingo. The hinge is somewhat disguised under bits of gravel that have been glued on to the side to represent a little gorge filled with a rockslide, but it's not unfindable. After a bit of feeling around he finds the catch that pops the mountain open.

Behold, Thurznchakh, in dollhouse form!

Because that is basically what you are looking at here: a cross-section model of the complex that you currently stand in. It is simplified in the same way a child's dollhouse might be a simplified version of the home in which they dwell. It is not meant to be perfectly to scale, nor perfectly realistic, but more a work of art (and perhaps entertainment?). Yet you can easily see certain recognizable areas: at the base it seems to be filled in with blue-colored glass or resin-- the lake reservoir-- and then above that, rooms that roughly correlate to what you have seen of Iron Strata thus far, and now, Steel Strata. Multiple layers go up past that-- even, it seems, to the very peak of the mountain itself, even if the higher levels have smaller footprints.

Neat dwarven script labels each level:

-Cistern
-Iron Strata
-Steel Strata
-Silver Strata
-Gold Strata
-Mithral Strata
-Adamantine Strata
-Arkhorianite Strata

An empty cylindrical hole connects the peak of the mountain with the topmost strata, as if something was supposed to be there that isn't, currently.

The entire complex seems to be centered around a central core shaft that corresponds roughly with where you have marked the Furnaces, so far.

I am sure you will all have many questions about the model; feel free to ask them rather than my trying to anticipate each one. One I can anticipate at least: no, it does not show the location of traps/security measures-- again, think more child's dollhouse or hobbyist's miniature rather than tactical model.

The quarters may not be as much space as Argatha could dream of, but compared to the bunks of the dormitories, this would no doubt be considered a spacious chamber to the stoneborn, signifying some status of its occupants. As for how families lived: it seems, in some ways, much as how human families live now. Little treasures that meant something to someone, once upon a time; small decorative sculptures, tools, clothing, books... a tasseled pillow on the bed, curtains around the bed marked in patterns of deep blue and warm orange, a tin cup left on one of the two desks with the beverage it held long since evaporated to naught. Tiny mementos of lives long gone. What might your own homes look like, should all of you vanish from the earth, and strangers puzzle over your belongings three or four centuries from now?

One significant difference from the homes most of you have dwelt in during your lives is the lack of cookspace. It seems that the stoneborn must have taken all of their meals communally-- or at least relied on the mass kitchen for the preparations.

Whatever else the room holds, it doesn't seem as though it contains a vertical goblin-use passage. Just the vial that Phantrel found. (Colin can easily ID the silversheen.)

Em moves on, not as paranoid as the resident kobold when it comes to doors, for she sets to immediately with the crowbar. Again, after several attempts, the hook catches in the door and Em can force the door back in its housing in the wall, with the audible grind and protest of stone and metal.

Your lights play into the room - and a light shines back from within, momentarily dazzling you!

But after a moment you realize it is mere reflection. A large mirror hangs opposite the entrance, over a table at which four might comfortably sit, and it is this mirror which caught your light and gave you the momentary illusion of someone aiming a lantern back at you.

But nobody moves inside, save for your own reflections.

A shelf runs floor to ceiling to the immediate right of the entrance, crammed with book after book, near to overflowing. A half-height cabinet flanks the other side of the door, an assortment of personal possessions piled atop it in no particular order-- a thick winter cloak, a toolbelt with a few chisels and small hammers, a cylindrical metal flask, a pair of socks, more books in a haphazard stack, a chunk of raw quartz the size of a child's head, a non-operating pocketwatch, a leather tube, a pair of boots...

This living space is more cluttered than the neighbors' next door. Projects in seeming half-states of completion lie on various surfaces. The sleeping spaces are all in a loft, with two steeply sloped staircases (or shallowly tilted ladders) leading up to them, and the space beneath has been given over to workdesks. An assortment of glass discs, metal housings, pieces of pipe, springs, gears, and dozens of tools sprawl out over the desks. The clutter is thickest near a large round table upon which sits a model of a mountain, the model itself perhaps three feet tall and at least that wide at the base.

Everywhere, rainbow light winks and gleams at you in this chamber: perhaps a dozen suncatchers (or something like them) hang in this room, made from fragments of glass or crystals and pieces of wire. One lies in a state of partial assembly on one of the worktables.

There are no bodies, either living or dead.

Those who look for clan daggers find only one. It is 'upstairs' in the loft area, resting on a pillow on one of the beds, as if placed there with care. This one holds a soft light in its pommel-stone. Its pendant is currently inserted.

If you're spending time searching this room, give me a perception check, and let me know if you're focusing anywhere in particular.

Xira inspects each clan dagger but all four gems are dark and inert, any seeming spark in them caused by nothing but the reflection of your own lights. It seems their owners departed this world for good.

----

Brimble plots and thinks, thinks and plots, and sees if he can enlist Houndsfang in his notions. The steel is cool under his fingers. After a moment, Houndsfang's 'voice' replies: :I wouldst think the vault the place most likely, on this strata, as a general tools repository. If such craft be aught else... perhaps near the entrance to the unworked caverns proper. Stoneborn often set skilful snares for the creatures of the dark.

A bit more for Argatha I forgot to put in

Looking past the glass into the cavern beyond, Argatha can realize that some of the lights he sees are not just the reflection in the glass of the group's. As his eyes adjust, he can make out that various of the fungi are faintly phosphorescent, giving green and blue witchglows in the cave beyond. It has an otherworldly beauty to it. Here and there, motion: a pale beetle the size of Argatha's fist trundles up a stalagmite column, moving unhurriedly through the forest of mushrooms, grazing as it goes. A steady motion in one corner resolves itself, after some staring, to be a light trickle of water, picking up and reflecting the phosphorescence around it.

****

Em works to get the door open. With the crowbar, it is eventually doable, though not a quiet process. As with the other doors, it's a DC 20 STR check and you would eventually succeed, with the +2 from the crowbar

It yields with groaning and grinding creaks, revealing a room beyond that seems to be a comfortable and cozy living space for a small family. There is no sign of the despair and obsession in the Hammerfast quarters, nor the darkness in Verrik's. Things are tidy enough, if lightly cluttered, and have the feel of long abandonment. Little swirls of dust eddy from the shifting air caused by the open door.

The darkness has preserved the colors of a large and beautiful rug that lies across the center of the floor, next to two desks that face one another, with a number of tools (masterwork jeweler's tools) held in neat brackets on the wall next to them. The walls feature a great deal of built in storage shelving and cabinets. One partially-walled alcove features a good-sized bed, easily big enough for two adult stoneborn, and a set of small stairs lead to a walled-in loft space above it that also holds sleeping room. A table for four completes the furniture inventory.

The bric-a-brac here is not-insignificant: various cabinet-tops and shelves here boast small artworks of metal and wire. Some of them feature heroic figures (stoneborn, presumably), others fantastic monsters, others more whimsical in nature.

Other small items findable in various nooks and crannies include a small box with a wind-up crank on the bottom, a pantograph, and a set of what look like dominoes carved from jade.

On the large table, four pendants and their matching clan daggers are laid out in a neat line, in front of a candle long since burned to a guttered out stub. Someone wrote on the table in charcoal, in stoneborn runes: In Torag we trust. Together we go.

There are no sign of any bodies.

The spiny thing definitely feels more organic than something forged by dwarves, even if tools modified it at some point.

Argatha stops to behold the view, or perhaps even more importantly, the window. No piece of glass in Salt Spire is bigger than a foot square, and even in the places Argatha has been to or passed by he has, at best, seen a decent-sized mirror or a window in a fancy high street shop-- perhaps two to three feet. Nothing approaching this size at all! And most glass he has seen has been milky or rippled, filled with bubbles, noticeably thicker to one side or the other. This is glass (or whatever it is) of astounding clarity and purity, marred only by the lightest settling of dust on its sides. The piece looks to be several inches thick.

Argatha Per: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17

After some close, marveling inspection, he can at least determine it is not one GIANT pane of glass, but four segments, ten by eight feet, joined so close and finely to another that the crack can barely be seen. Still, it's a hell of a window.

***

Brimble's inspection of the panel reveals no traps. The panel is hidden, but not all THAT hidden; more 'unobtrusive' than 'secret'. While he is listening before opening, it seems that it would be very easy indeed to open it, since even his careful tool explorations make the panel swing just a little, to and fro.

He listens at the crack.

There are voices. Not right next to his ear, or anything, but somewhere from, he thinks, further up-- echoing down to him. He cannot understand what they are saying, both because he does not speak the language and because of the distortion of echoes. It does sound rather like goblin voices, though.

***

The next door has a slate nameplate, as do the two beyond it. Revealed the name labels on the map. The first one Em stops at lists this room as belonging to: Tyree Forthright & Ruby Goldgleam & their children.

Driving home and I'll do another post there with the room interior.

As both the obvious upwards routes seem to have some form of defenses on them, further scouting for alternate paths appears the order of the day-- if only to ensure that goblins can't come down behind you and trap you in, should you seek to scale either stair.

Heading to the south takes you past the entrance to the temple-- now dark and quiet, absent Forgewise's cheery flames. To the end of the hall, you pass another door, but your mapping of the complex thus far (thanks to Xira indicates that it must be the other entrance into the temple.

The southern wall of Steel Strata features a gigantic window-- perhaps forty feet long, eight tall-- that runs length of a sort of gallery area here, furnished with stone benches, chairs, and tables, each topped with a decaying cushion. The window is glass, or something superficially like it. The view from the window is not the longed-for "outside", but rather the interior of a cavern space that seems to drop away both beneath this level and extend up it. By your lights shining through the glass, you see the cavern is rife with fungoidal growths.

(The window is clearly visible on the Steel Strata map; the cave beyond is not, currently, but I can add it there if people want it.)

The first door of the hallway that Em determines to investigate is unusual, and nearly missed-- earlier scouting had suggested three doorways to you, each with their small hallway alcove. This one is only noticeable now that you are doing a closer perusal of the hallway, for it is designed to blend into the decorative work on the walls. The bas relief here depicts a roaring waterfall plunging down a mountainside, but the edges of the waterfall do not entirely align with the stonework around it. Light investigation reveals that the waterfall itself is on a hinge, at the top of said panel, and presumably can be pushed or opened. The panel in question is about eighteen by eighteen inches, and about waist high for the humans in the group. Not a conventional door, then.

(I'm assuming noticing this 'door' would interrupt further progression down the hall.)

Xira hurries back to the others as she overhears something about poison, in time to see Argatha helping Brimble drink a vial. The danger seems to have passed, as Brimble waits a few more seconds but feels no further sapping of strength from the injury to his foot. Phantrel's blessing and the vial of medication helped him throw it off.

No further damage than the 1 STR, though I forgot to mention 1 point of physical damage as well.

Well, this answers why this stairway isn't trapped: it is, just more subtly than the barrier on the other.

Phantrel can now investigate the odd object. It does superficially remind him of a sea urchin, a dozen spines jutting from a central core. Closer inspection reveals the core is the now-hollow exoskeleton of a creature no bigger than a good-sized chestnut, with defensive spines an inch long jutting out from the top. He is not familiar with whatever creature this might be-- surely nothing from the surface forests. A bit of filing and toolmarks suggest the tiny corpse was modified by some intelligent creature in order to lie flat on the floor with the spines pointed upwards. The poison seems innate to the spines rather than something added after the fact.

Some of the spines snapped under Brimble's weight-- inspecting the bottom of Brimble's feet reveals thin spines still lodged between his scales, but now that you know to look for them, they can be easily enough removed by those in the party who have a deft medical hand. Good thing too-- the last thing Brimble would want is those spine shards working their way unnoticed deeper into his feet.

(no mechanical Heal check required, but if we did need it, Argatha's sufficed)

As Brimble's moved back into sight of (most of) the rest of the party, anyone except Xira has six seconds' worth of action if you want to try and help your poisoned kobold before his save takes effect

I'd like to Take 20 on that save, please... :P

You wish, amigo.

The pinch is brief, but Brimble almost immediately starts feeling an ominous tingly burning through the affected foot-- which, when he twists it up to look at it, has a nasty multi-pointed spiky thing lodged in the underside of his foot. Lost in the rubble, his normally keen eyes missed it. (I.e., you didn't make the roll I rolled for you behind the spoiler :( Sorry!)

I won't roll us into initiative proper, but you're currently poisoned, Brimble. Take 1 STR damage. What will you do with your next action? Argatha's close enough to see this and can also act/respond.

Xira decides to investigate a theory while the others debate. She trots quickly back to the dorm area, and pulls out Khaza's pendant. It seems to Xira that the glass square is at just about the right height that if a stoneborn were wearing the pendant, they could easily grab it from around their neck and do as she is doing now. It feels... right.

And yet, nothing happens. The dark square of glass remains dark-- no sounds, no clicks, no nothing. Disappointing. Well, she tried.

*******

Brimble starts up the stairs, very quiet, very cautious. He is almost to the first landing when something pinches through the scales on the bottom of his left foot. Ow! Like a beesting, or--

Fort save, por favor, Brimble

The kobold leads the way back through the dining hall, abandoning these stairs for now in favor of investigating the other one. It likewise proceeds both up and down, seeming to be a mirror of the other-- up a few feet, then a landing that is ten by five feet, then the stair twisting and rising again to the right, and so forth. Not entirely identical: there is no charred goblin corpse on this one, nor a large improvised junk barrier or whatever the purpose of the pile on the other stairwell. The floor has a bit of broken stone rubble on it-- pebbles ranging in size from gravel to chunks the size of a man's fist-- but nothing like the attempted full blockage of the western stairwell. The source of the rubble appears to be a damaged section of an otherwise beautiful stairwell wall...

The walls are covered with bas relief carvings in geometric lines and mostly-abstract patterns. Here and there, something that might be a stylized dwarf, mountain, or some other symbol breaks up the non-representational art. Through it all are threaded the omnipresent fine lines of dwarfgold.

(Was it only the other day that most of you caught your first sight of it-- real $%^ing gold, just used as mere decoration on walls and ceilings? A staggering amount of wealth for most of you. And yet in a very short time you've almost become desensitized to it, since it is everywhere in this place. Thy sky is blue, and the walls have dwarfgold on them. Sure.)

The artwork could conceal dangers, though. As customary for the paranoid cautious kobold, he checks for any signs of traps on the stairs up...

But it looks clear to him. There are soot marks discoloring one section of wall, but it looks like someone else both found that trap and then did damage to it with a vengeance, for the section of stone that would be the origin point for the soot has been heavily damaged, most likely be pickaxes to judge by the gouging holes still left. If that was a trap, it's not functional any more. No doubt this is where the small debris chunks of stone that litter these stairs come from.

It is dark, upstairs. Dark and, as near as your scout can tell, quiet.

Fortunately, there is no real under-the-bed space to check, and you can swiftly confirm that the dormitory houses no current occupants besides yourself. Closing the doors is a loud process, requiring the muscle of Raka and Argatha, but can be accomplished with a few tries.

Which leaves you once more trying to ascertain how the goblins are reaching this level-- the obvious access point of the stairwell? Some other place, not yet discovered?

There is no response from anyone in answer to Brimble's careful words and Em's additions.

Xira can be at least lightly reassured that there ISN'T really an 'under-the-bunks' for the goblins to use as hidey-holes. The bunks are built directly into the stone, or into central stone pillars, and no monsters can exist under the bed when there is no 'under' there for them.

Meanwhile Brimble edges down-hall.

He is able to reach the stairwell without seeing anything/anyone or hearing any yells. He can look up the stairwell and see that just past the old, blackened goblinoid corpse on the stairs there is a pile of... junk. Broken pieces of worked stone, spars of metal piping, gravel, what certainly looks like a sink, bones, a piece of thick grating, and other random bits of detritus have been placed here haphazardly. Or maybe rolled down the stairwell from above to just land here, rather than 'placed.' You are fairly sure that those objects weren't here last night.

Bringing up the rear of the group, Phantrel continues to try and coax a little more ...anything... from his sword, however little he may think of it as truly his. The sword is silent during the ascent back to Steel, but as the group makes their way down the hall, Thunder-follows-Lightning says, I am only adjusting to things. Much is not as I expected.

:Not terribly faithful? Then you must yield often to caprice. Perhaps that means you will yield to me.

:I'm afraid yielding is not in mine nature, darling... I suppose it's best the dress IS illusory, no? Given the briny bath we art bound for. Again, Brilliance-of-Heaven observes drily as our heroes prepare for yet another unpleasant crawl through the stagnant leech-ridden waters. It's no nicer than the other times, and the water bobs with dead rats and dead leeches alike. You've also used up the last of the salt bag that you found in the kitchen, meaning that if you come this route again, it might not be as safe as the salt has made it.

Still, you reach the other side without incident (and it's definitely easier to make this trip without the chest holding the Courageous), and resume a dripping process up the ladder and back to Steel Strata, emerging in the maintenance corridor that runs behind the baths. All seems quiet.

The bathing chamber still has the burn marks of your battle against the rats and the presence of the dead, partially-eaten goblins, which have become no prettier in the time you've been gone.

If you wish to try and follow the general direction of the goblin who'd had the sickly orange-hued skin, that will mean, generally, south. (Marked the direction you saw Orange Gobbo fleeing in on the Steel Strata map, which we are now back on.)

Brimble watches the light of the chest distort as it sinks beneath the surface of the pipe's water. The water here is lightly murky with a scum of intermittent algae on top, but he can still see the glow of the chest going down, a bit at least. He thinks it falls at least twenty feet, possibly more, but cannot be positive.

The moment has an oddly funereal note, but the kobold is pragmatic and doesn't let it get to him. Houndsfang 'whispers': :Rest well, kindred.

Back up the rope, and then it's a matter of reassembling the pipe. Unfortunately it was easier to take apart than put back together JUST right... the screws that had been stuck and needed lubricating to undo have their threads grimy with calcification, and resist being put back into place. It takes Brimble a number of minutes with some help from Colin-- a little solvent to strip the mineral build up from the screws, then carefully realigning all the panels back into place....

Take 10 is fine. Colin can still give me an Alchemy check for the fake patina to cover up any tool scratches yall left, etc

During this task, no goblins attack you. Yet.

Two of you have voiced an interest in the Softworks. Will that be our heroes' next destination?

On a whim he decided to consult with The Professor, he explained what they where doing and asked ::Can you suggest any improvements to this plan?::

(Sorry, Colin, I just forgot to reply! The Professor is no more miffed than their baseline :P )

It takes the 'Professor' a few minutes to respond, during which Colin wonders what he's done to annoy the disembodied voice. But eventually: :Hn! Thou interrupted something I wast pondering. What, now? A plan? Well. If the concealment is going to pass the inspection of anything but a blind deaf-mute, then thou wilt need to put in a bit of work when that hatch is screwed back in place-- restore the appearance of old, undisturbed metal, yes? What it looked like before the drakeborn set to with tools and oil? There art alchemical solutions to create the semblance of age's patina....

Go ahead and give me a Craft: Alchemy check for funsies, Colin

****

The combined strong arms of Raka and Argatha have no trouble lowering the chest, hand-over-hand, into the darkness of the pipe. Well, not really the darkness, since the warm glow emanating from the chest does a nice job lighting up the pipe. Brimble peeks in, watching the chest's smooth descent -- occasionally it clangs against the pipe walls, sending a musical-if-deep echo upward, but the pipe seems clear of obstructions that might snag it. By the light of the descending chest, Brimble can see that there are branching, smaller pipes going off horizontally only five or so feet beneath your own, uh, feet. Too small for tallfolk, certainly, and tight for a kobold but doable. His mind no doubt files this away as a last ditch emergency hiding place should worst come to worst.

When ready, he is able to climb down the rope, using the pipe walls to brace. It echoes curiously around him, and smells lightly fishy, but the descent is mostly dry other than a few trickles of water on the pipe walls.

Brimble: No climb check needed here, the DC is low and you're not in danger/a rush; no check needed to just undo some knots, and no check needed to be a passenger on the rope ride back up, assuming that I understand the plan correctly to let the chest drop into the water at the bottom of the pipe. When you return to the kitchen, make me a Disable Device check to reassemble the pipe as you found it.

********

While the chest is lowered with the intrepid kobold following it, Phantrel takes a moment to have a conversation he doesn't particularly want to, but feels honorbound to have, at least. He rests his hand on the sword's dragonhilt and carefully, lightly, enquires....

Phantrel Diplomacy: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13

The sword does not immediately answer. After a pause, it says, :No. It is nothing you would comprehend-- we have established that our natures are very different.

In the temple

Bastion can only be felt, not seen, but Raka has the strong sensation that if her shield had a head, it would nod along with her vigorously as she repeats the words about Trudd.

:Yes, that's good! And in the name of Father Torag too. Well done!

Something does seem to shift, when the words have been said. The air seems cleaner and lighter, somehow. Perhaps you're all imagining it, but you could swear you almost hear the ghost of a relieved sigh gusting past your ear.

Brilliance-of-Heaven isn't as openly encouraging to Em as Bastion is to Raka, but the diadem does respond: :Oh, I cannot say I am terribly faithful at any thing! But wert I to choose, then only the fairest for me- bright Bolka, the creator's greatest gift to his children.

(For future reference, Em, if a check is an "or" (diplomacy OR religion, etc) I generally mean you can make one of the attempts but not all. No impact here since Raka did fine with it, just FYI)

****

Back in the kitchen, once all are reunited there...

Xiramona peeks in the pipe to watch her lit stone plummet to the depths-- her sense of magic will be blocked in short order by the metal of the pipe itself, otherwise. It is difficult to judge exact distances when you are watching a tiny light get smaller at a very fast clip, but at the least you'd guess it drops at least forty feet away below you before you hear a tiny plop! as it hits the water. The lit stone continues to sink past that, and in another second or two, Xira can no longer see any gleam from it.

Zenith sighs at the suggestion of being lowered down the pipe shaft, but keeps objections to pointing out to Xira: :If you feel it is necessary, very well- but we will not be able to share senses in this manner again, to-day, so consider if now is the time you wish to use this.

Just a reminder that the 'remote viewing power' is once per day, Xira, so up to you if you still want to use here

Rune-that-Destroys speaks in Argatha's mind: :The other Courageous have no objections to this location. It is.... perhaps not the most dignified. But effective. They are ready.

The focus of the group drifts in multiple directions...

But most of them reconverge in the shrine with new tools. Brooms and brushes will make the work go much quicker, and better: scraps of rags only do so much to get soot out from between small stone crevices, while the scrubbing brushes are literally made for the task. And the ashes on the floor can be swept up with the brooms. A task that might have easily taken more than an hour is reduced to ten minutes or so, with all of the group save Brimble thus working at it.

With the room as clean as tools, water, and six pairs of hands can make it, something in the air here seems to lighten, slightly. The stones reveal their original colors again, shining wetly from their bath and giving back the reflection of your magical light. It feels... better in here, to be sure. It feels like the room is holding its breath, almost. A few earnest words might finish the cleansing thus begun.

Kn Religion, Diplomacy, or an Intelligence check here may be useful. Or you might have some other bright idea.

****

For Brimble, the distance he puts between himself and the others earns him a dry chuckle from his own weapon. :Thou remainest a member of no tribe, whether it be drakeborn or other sort, I ween. Walking alone-- though now, of course, thou hast me. It sounds as much threat as reassurance, somehow.

The pipe mechanism requires some poking at. Like so much else here in the dwarven halls, thin lines of dwarfgold work around the knobs that must be controls, and yet, pulling and tugging on the various knobs doesn't seem to do much, at first. They seem immovable.

Xira does one other thing before she reaches out-- at the last second she recalls that new spark of magic in her mind, the one that is supposed to bolster defenses and help you resist malign magic... (per OOC discussion with Xira)

Xira Will, DC 15 (+1 vs enchantment, +1 for removing the Droskar symbol, +1 for resistance, aaaand +1 for RP...: 1d20 + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 3 + 1 + 1 + 1 + 1 = 15 And you needed every bit of it, too

Xira's solemn, earnest words and supplication to the long-gone dwarf's shade seem to hang heavy in the air. She pauses a moment, hoping her beseeching words have had an effect... and then takes Kazha's dagger in hand.

For a moment, the world seems to drift away, becoming distant. On some level Xiramona knows that Argatha, Colin, and might-as-well-be-her-sister Em are still there, in the hallway, watching her. But that knowledge is far away... buried under exhaustion as intense as any Xira's ever known. She can barely keep her eyes open. And there's so much still to do...

No. This isn't her. This is Kazha-- Kazha's spirit she is feeling, Kazha's exhaustion and despair dragging at her. Xira uses that knowledge, breathing out forcefully through her nose and gripping the clan dagger tightly, tight enough that the pommel digs into her palm with clarifying pain. The cotton-fuzz of the world dissipates and she is herself, no more tired than usual, clutching Kazha's dagger as a prize for the ordeal.

Kazha's spirit is clearly still active-- and lost to its despair to the point that Xira doesn't know if her words reached it at all. But at the least, Xira herself is well and in command of her faculties.

The clan dagger also contains Kazha's pendant, which, like the others from Iron Strata, is set with a chunk of iron, but with much more dwarfgold linework surrounding it.

Moved some tokens accordingly on the map to where it sounds like everyone is

:I doubt it will affect me, but neither can I shield you, Zenith answers Xira's query. With that dubious reassurance in hand, Xira leads the way back to the Hammerfasts' residence, whatever her internal anxieties say.

The room seems as you left it. Dark, empty, the wall-scrawlings a mute testament to the collapse of Kazha's mind. With utmost caution, Xira enters, edging towards the tools. Argatha, Em, and Colin watch, in case they need to tackle her.

But Xira achieves the hoard of brooms, brushes, and mops without any undue influence or horror seizing her. Even when she tentatively touches the first tool... nothing happens. The effect, whatever it is, seems tied to Kazha's corpse, at least.

You have a bunch of cleaning tools, which will certainly improve the work of cleansing the Iron shrine

Xira professed some interest in Kazha's clan dagger; it's still there, resting next to the skeleton's brittle pelvis, only a few inches from the bony hand clutching chalk and the last words Kazha Hammerfast wrote: -Kill the rats; seal their entrance holes. -Attend to the shrine. -Repair the furnace.

D'ya... d'ya want me to clean the place up a bit? she asks Bastion.

....
Who was this? she asks as she works.

It would be... appreciated, Bastion says, sadly. :As for the statue... I would think it was probably Arkhoria Skywatch, the settlement's founder.

By merit of mutual action, most of you begin to start cleaning the defaced shrine, and those of you who had hoped to move on to other things sooner rather than later double back to help with the work. You are slowed by the lack of good tools, having to make do with improvised ones.... though it occurs to you that you know where all the cleaning tools are: back in the chambers of the dead dwarf that Xira just mentioned. Kazha Hammerfast seemed to be collecting every broom, mop, and scrubbing brush on the level-- at least, you haven't seen any others.

Anyone going back there to grab tools? Anyone? Bueller?

Cleaning would certainly go quicker with the appropriate tools. The effect in Kazha's room didn't trigger until Phantrel moved to interact with the corpse, for what it's worth. That said, nothing stops you all from cleaning the shrine with your makeshift tools, it'll just take longer.

:It would be right, to cleanse this room, Rune-that-Destroys answers solemnly, to Argatha. :Whether that task should take precedence over your other ones... that, I cannot say. It does seem as though your tasks are mushrooming.

Back in the hallway, Em repeats her call that they investigate the furnace, though as yet her feet keep her near the others. (Brilliance-of-Heaven chuckles appreciatively over her remark about 'recommendations.')

Em Per: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

The doors to the Softworks are also temptingly near. Less tempting is the mess room at the end of this hallway, where the silverspore colony occasionally glints back your own light sources towards you, like stars in a dark sky.

Xira edges south enough to read the plaque on the double doors. 'Softworks.' Whatever that means?

Zenith chimes in helpfully. :An idiom of sorts. I have granted you knowledge of the stoneborn tongue, but the translation afforded is very literal.... The stoneborn consider crafting in more durable materials-- stone, metal, and so forth-- to be a higher art form than leatherwork, weaving, textiles and so forth. 'Softwork' is the general name given to those sundry arts.

The plaque behind Xira repeats its label of 'food stores', confirming that that door opens back into the Land of Many Rats (though less rats now than yesterday to be sure).

Raka muses about the elevator and easier access while Colin and Phantrel debate rafts.... and Em and Brimble peer down the hallway that is arched with dwarfgold.

It's short, going no more than fifteen feet into the stone before emerging in an almost-but-not-quite round room, with eight walls each boasting a small alcove. A stone statue stands here, though it's difficult to make out who it might be meant to represent-- it looks as though it has been intentionally damaged, blow after blow of hammer or chisel or both defacing it until you can only guess if it depicted a god or a hero or a king, a man or a woman. About all you can safely guess is that it was probably a dwarven figure. The stone has been further marked with fire, blackened and sooty. Bits of rubble from the defacing are scattered around the floor.

The eight wall alcoves might be a minor mystery, if not that you saw a somewhat fancier version of this upstairs and can make the connection without too much strain:

Each alcove belongs to one of the pantheon-- Torag, Trudd, Magrim, and so forth. These are very simple altars, lacking the statues you saw on Steel Strata. The alcoves are just backed with mosaic stonework in each deity's respective colors-- except that damage has been done here as well. It looks as if little fires were started on the alcove shelves, to blacken and mar the mosaic patterns. Once those shelves might have boasted small offerings like you saw upstairs; now they contain only smeared ashes and cracked pieces of broken stone. The floor is littered with debris and coal cinders.

Put simply, this small temple is a mess.

Glancing around reveals nothing of any apparent value, though you do notice that from the interior of the room, the archway back out has a charcoal outline over it with a fire burning above - the same symbol of Droskar that you saw in the overseer's room.

Bastion makes a sound of wordless, shocked dismay in Raka's mind to see the defacing of this shrine room. Rune-that-Destroys is more reserved, but still quite clear about their feelings to Argatha: :Blasphemy has happened here.

Sorry for the delay, been feeling a bit under the weather.

Though Brimble methodically tests the nearest areas, and finds some variation in the depth, it's only a few feet or so, and not enough for the deep hole that you're hoping to hide the Courageous in.

The rough consensus appears to be to see if there are ways over to that ledge and skiff that don't require a swim through spikemouth infested waters. Wisdom! The group carries out the somewhat laborious process of climbing back up the ladder they just painstakingly climbed down. Once more, ropes are used to haul the chest containing the Courageous back up after you.

Brilliance-of-Heaven seems to find that process amusing. :No doubt my kin are finding the journey to be jarring. Well! perhaps if they wert more adventurous they might travel in the same sort of style I currently do.

Bastion, on the other hand, expresses a bit of anxious concern to Raka during the hauling that she and Argatha must do. :Oh-- oh dear, try to be steady with the rope, please...

But the task is managed.

The question remains of whether to go directly for the furnace door, or to try the other exit from the kitchen. Xira proposes the latter, and hearing no immediate arguments, the group proceeds to that door. Though still dutiful about listening for danger and checking for traps, you cannot help but feel a bit more secure now about your surroundings-- they are no longer wholly unknown vaults of mystery and lost lore, but rather, reassuringly mundane in some ways. You are in a kitchen, after all. The other exit probably doesn't open into a vault from hell.

Indeed, when you open the door, you see more hallway, very similar to the one on the kitchen's other side. To the north, it terminates in a pair of golden double doors that experience would suggest are probably another set of elevator doors. If your mental (and slate) map is correct, that would make sense, as these doors would be directly below the set you found upstairs next to the dining hall on Steel Strata. You hadn't yet found a kitchen up there, so maybe this kitchen supplied food for the whole complex? If so, it is logical that the elevator would be right next to it.

Only a few feet from the elevator, you see a set of stairs leading up as well. Twenty-odd feet south of that, you see an open archway of dwarf-gold set into the stone, leading into a five-foot wide passage that goes east.

About sixty feet south of you on the eastern wall are a pair of closed double doors; on the western wall somewhat closer is a single shut door that-- again, if your mental map is correct-- must lead back into the warehouse of food and rat nests.

Phantrel's keen eyes can just make out, to the far south, the tables and chairs of the Iron Mess... and the distant glitter of the silverspore colony there.

Iron Strata map updated

It becomes quickly evident to Xira and the others that Zenith is a very effective focus for spells of illumination. The light seems refracted by the crystal globe, brighter and further-reaching than when cast on ordinary pebbles, and shines out over the dark water like a lambent full moon.

By the expanded glow, those with especially keen eyes-- Phantrel, for instance, with his elven heritage allowing his gaze to pierce the gloom a good distance-- can make out a few more details of the cavern.

Due 'north' of your current island, perhaps eighty-odd feet, you can just make out a cavern wall, with two truly massive pipes set into it-- each one must be about fifteen feet in diameter. There is a ledge there as well, running along the base of the cavern wall where it nears the waterline. Perhaps most interestingly, there appears to be some sort of small watercraft moored here, though how water-worthy it might be after this much time remains to be seen.

To your 'southwest', there is a dim gleam that might be the light reflecting distantly off another bronzed pipe-- this one at least a hundred feet distant from you. To the 'northwest', Phantrel's eyes strain to their utmost and can just make out a faint interruption in the blackness-- another possible pipe, perhaps a hundred and twenty feet or more distant.

Zenith sighs in Xira's mind.

:You intend to lower me into the water, don't you. If a fish eats me, I may seek a new bearer. Very well...

Brimble's suggestions are sound, though Colin can certainly weigh in if he likes. Phantrel's gardening twine proves useful once again, in the same place that it previously had. Anything from a dagger to a chunk of stone rubble might work as a plumb weight. No doubt something in your pockets or packs suffices.

Unfortunately for your goal, a quick test with the string indicates that the water immediately around the platform island is no deeper than thirty feet. You check different points around the platform, but the string tells the same story. Those of you with the ability to sense the presence of magic-- whether an ability you've had for years or one you have developed overnight-- can doublecheck the math using Brimble's second suggested method: magically-illuminated rocks definitely still "ping" when they rest on the bottom hereabouts.

(A fish or two investigate the chucked lights. Small ones compared to the behemoths of yesterday, perhaps the size of your arm only.)

Carver's body is stiff in death, her limbs rigid and livid with bruises. She presents a grim sight, a mute witness to your experiments with her eyes open but unseeing. How disturbing you find this is up to each of you.

The water here is not deep enough for your original plan. Choices abound: explore (somehow) for deeper water... return up the ladder and continue your explorations, leaving the Courageous for now... commit ritual suicide by jumping into the water and waiting for spikemouths to eat you... probably there are other options.

Brilliance-of-Heaven answers Em's mental query. :Wings? I'm afraid not functional ones. The appearance, yes.

Em's magic may not be yet able to conjure the fireballs she dreams of, but it makes the aftermath of the leech-infested sump so much nicer. Yesterday you had to stand around in your wet, salty, squelching clothing and shoes; today, a wave of the young woman's hand and you're clean if nothing else, clean and possibly even warmer.

Em also raises the question of the elevator shaft- a topic that can be further debated as you all like, though for getting down to the water level, you so far have only the ladder rungs set into the giant water pipe. Accordingly, our heroes cautiously open the kitchen's two access hatches-- cautiously, in case there's something on the other side, such as the 'melly' or some yet unknown threat.

But all that awaits them is the sight of the ladder going down to the small platform, and the dark water that rings it round.

Ropes can be wrapped around the container you've found, and the strong arms around you can easily lower it down until it rests on the stone of the platform/island.

Carver's body, much the worse for wear, still lies here, her blood and other bodily fluids having leaked out to fill the cracks between the tightly-fitted stones of the platform. (Since I don't recall anyone doing anything in particular with her body after taking her belongings) The light from your advance flickers over her body unsteadily-- odd, given that it's no bobbing flame but steady magical illumination.

--oh, never mind, it's not the light that's moving, it's the many small creatures that have found her body. White many-legged worms, nearly-translucent crayfish, tiny blind beetles.

The light doesn't deter them, but the impact of the chest settling on the platform scatters them. The creepy-crawlers slither or dart or scuttle away from the vibration, to the edge of the platform and over the side of it. There is no longer any sign of the bodies that were left in the water.

In short order, those of you who wish can stand on the circle of stone that was so recently your refuge from the water and the spike-toothed fish. You see none of the dangerous fish at the moment, but who knows what lurks under the dark water around you? Somewhere overhead, you hear faint clicks, chirps, and high-pitched noises that Phantrel (or anyone else trained in Kn Nature) can identify as bats.

The Courageous sit on the stone in their container, sealed against water as well as you can make them. What's your plan?

Back to the reservoir map! As a reminder, from this platform all you see in 60' all directions is more water. If there are other pipes/platforms out there, which is a reasonable theory unless the settlement gets all its water from this pipe, they must be further away than sixty feet.

Please be sure you keep your stat lines up to date with your HP; to recap, damage take that fight was:

Colin, Em, Xira: 2 hp damage each; Raka & Argatha = 1 damage

---------

Only Phantrel and Brimble escaped the tide of rats entirely unscathed. The two of them almost immediately move forward-- or Brimble does, to check his security measures, and Phantrel to follow him Just in Case. Fortunately, the piton system appears intact and untouched.

The goblins in the bath were definitely not playing possum. Or if so, it's the most convincing act you've ever seen, what with their gnawed-open innards and all.

Before continuing, Xira takes a moment to draw a card. She is less than delighted to see such an ominous, apocalyptic card, and gazes at it a long moment before returning it to the deck.

::Cartomancy? I suppose that's one method of divination, Zenith remarks, with what seems to be a certain polite reserve.

Xira, as per your feat, once today you get a +2 to a Dexterity-based check. Your mage armor is definitely still up for Em to poke at it and ask questions. Take whatever RP beats anyone wants, but I'll keep overall story moving forward so as to regain our momentum.

---------

When ready, our heroes make a cautious way down the ladder back to the nasty leech-infested pool of the day before. The surface of the water is dotted with a non-zero number of rat corpses that must have succumbed to those leeches-- the bulk of them getting across through sheer strength of numbers. The crawl-swim-wade back the other way is even less appealing than the first day. You can't help but wonder if there's some other way back. But here you are..... and you still have plenty of salt on hand. For now.

After dosing the water heavily to guard against leeches, whoever wishes to try and return to the reservoir level holds their nose (at least metaphorically) and pushes back through the cold, oily water that has collected beneath the vast pipes until they reach the other side. From there it's a matter of retracing your steps: back through the narrow service corridor, into the toilets, the hall beyond, the dormitory, then the kitchen....

You see the occasional rat or two in corners, but it seems that the bulk of the swarm has been scattered-- for now. No doubt the survivors will regroup in the old food warehouse, or whatever ones remain there will sally forth, but at least at this moment in time, no hordes dare attack you-- the few solo rats you see hide at your approach, lacking the courage of maddened numbers.

Moved Brimble's token back into the Kitchen on Iron Level map - as a marker for the whole party right now, but if you're not in that group, do say so. Anything else anyone intends to do on Iron Strata before climbing back down the big pipe-ladder to the reservoir?

Botting Raka

Like Xira, Raka isn't eager to let her 'sister' go off in the lead. She hurries after, looking for rats and not finding any as she enters the bathing chamber. Moving to a stop just in front of Em, Raka raises her sword, ready to strike at any sign of danger....

GM mystery roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

The warrior woman doesn't have long to wait. The other half of the rat horde seems to have recovered from their momentary fire-induced panic. They stream back in through the doorway, beelining (ratlining?) with a maddened fury for Raka and Em as the two closest.

Raka Readied Attack: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Slashing damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

Both women get a chance to swing or stab at the rats as the animals mill forward.

Em AOO: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Damage: 1d8 ⇒ 2

Raka AOO: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Slashing damage: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 Half damage becomes 4.... but that's enough, after the bomb hit they took earlier.

Raka's first swing goes wide, but her second sweep of the blade catches half-a-dozen of the vermin, flinging their tiny, horrible little bodies back against the far wall. It seems to be all that is needed to convince the remaining rats that these are very difficult meals indeed-- the last of the vermin scatter, bolting to drain pipes or back out the door.

Several dozen rat bodies lie twitching or motionless on the bath chamber floor, most of them charred. The smell is awful. But you're all alive.

(End combat)

Xira rains down some blows with her staff that crushes a few rats underneath before hurrying to get free of the bulk of the horde....

Hissing and squeaking demonically, the rats look for a new target. They spill towards Raka and Argatha...

Raka gets an AOO: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 If only rats could be crit
Damage, slashing: 1d8 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8 4 after reduction

Raka sweeps out with her blade as the rats close and manages to chop several furry bodies in half. The swarm appears reduced but still very much active and dangerous...

Damage to Raka and Argatha: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Argatha vs distraction: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11
Argatha vs disease: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Raka vs distraction: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
Raka vs disease: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18

Fortunately, the damage of their teeth and claws to Raka and Argatha is minimal.... unfortunately, Argatha is thoroughly distracted by dozens of rats on his person. Nauseated for 1 rd, Argatha

(Round 2)
Phantrel
Argatha (nauseated)
Raka
(Round 3)
Em
Brimble
Colin
Red swarm
Xira
Blue swarm

Blue swarm has 14 damage; Red swarm has 13 damage

Perhaps mindful of how she'd damaged one weapon attacking something on the floor, Raka pulls her blow just a bit as she swings at a clump of rats-- and they scatter before her blade can connect.

Similarly, members of the group scatter as well, hurrying to put distance between themselves and the chittering horde!

The more-heavily-burned half of the rat horde does not run back into the bathing room.... at this time.

Xira's up

The frenzied rats are nimble creatures, but they seem caught off-guard by Xira's sudden appearance-- luckily for her. The bottle of lamp oil sails into the midst of the remaining clump of rats, and shatters.

But does it ignite? 51+ is fire: 1d100 ⇒ 51 Ha!!!
Splashy fire damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1 Lol

Well, the further good news is that it ignites. The bad news is that it only ignites briefly before sputtering back out.

The worse news is that now the rats are pissed. And it's their turn.

The half of the giant horde rats that caught less of the brunt of Colin's bomb seem bolder and not yet as ready to flee madly. Instead-- they scamper towards you. Sparks still smolder in their sparse and patchy fur but madness gleams in their eyes as what might be as many as a hundred rats mob Colin, Em, and Xira....... Biting, clawing, hissing!

Automatic swarm damage to Colin, Em, Xira: 1d6 ⇒ 2

Colin roll vs distraction: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
Colin roll vs disease: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Em roll vs distraction, w resist: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Em roll vs disease, w resist: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Xira roll vs distraction: 1d20 ⇒ 12
Xira roll vs disease: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Colin was not expecting to have a dozen rats leap onto his legs and start trying to scramble up to his sensitive face and eyes as vengeance for his firestorm. The engineer finds it suddenly quite hard to try and focus on anything but getting away from the rats! Colin, you are nauseated for 1 turn - move action only

Em and Xira, though no more thrilled with the presence of rats trying to scale them like edible mountains, are able to keep it together a bit better.

Round 1
Phantrel
Argatha
Raka
(Round 2)
Em
Brimble
Colin (nauseated)
Red swarm
Xira
Blue swarm

Phantrel knows, and is able to relate to the others, that the rats can still be attacked with weapons -- bludgeoning weapons are the most effective, but even other weapons can still do some damage. He also knows that anything that affects an area will be extra effective against the rats.

(The swarm is made of tiny creatures, so can still be attacked for full damage with bludgeoning weapons. Piercing and slashing weapons will do half damage.)

Em is somewhat let down by the lack of glorious fireball such as she had envisioned. Instead of a result of crispy rat corpses, all that happens is a few of the nearest rats scuttle away from the outstretched flame, barely pausing in their feast...

Then Colin comes up and demonstrates precisely what knowledge he's been absorbing from his unusual book.

Reflex save Blue: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

9 direct damage to red, + 50% swarm weakness = 13 damage. Blue fails save and takes the full alchemist bomb splash of 5 damage

Fire explodes in the room, and the rats shrill in fear and fury. The sound of the explosion is followed by the scent of burning rat fur-- very unpleasant-- and small chunks of rat-and-goblin meat flying through the air-- equally unpleasant.

With a maddened screeching, half of the horde of smoldering rats...

Morale, Red: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

...turn tail, scattering away from the source of the flame, and back through the northeast door.

Guess Em didn't get bitten after all. ;) Yet, anyway.

Round 1
Em (opens door, creates fire via prestidigitation)
Brimble (throws ineffective splash weapon Readied never triggered; so technically, he's still on readied mode
Colin (moves up, throws bomb)
Red swarm (flees)
Xira
Blue swarm
Phantrel
Argatha
Raka

Belatedly:

(Pre-fight Courageous chit-chat)

Zenith, to Xira: ::That's alright, I am striking enough for the both of us.

Bastion, to Raka: ::Y-ee-sss I'd prefer not to be used to squash rats! If there's any other option.

Brilliance, to Em: ::Liar~ the diadem says in a sing-song response to Em's assertion she'd be happy to wear this dress forever.

********

With the threat of the rats known in advance, you grab oils and various alternatives to stabbing, and arrange yourselves in the hall. Em announces herself confident to create a maelstrom of flame and disaster, and Brimble accordingly lets her take a spot before the door...

Em trying to get to the door without alerting the rats?: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3 Ha.

Round 1
Em (opens door, creates fire via prestidigitation)
Brimble
Colin (readies? to throw a bomb at one of the swarms. Or moves up and throws if you prefer. We'll use what you already rolled)
Red
Xira
Blue
Phantrel
Argatha
Raka

Brimble's thoughts turn out to be fully correct. He edges the door open just a hair...

Per vs Stealth 20: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12
Per vs Stealth 20: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Rats. Rats, rats, rats.... the rats from below have followed you. They must have swum through the leech-infested waters, or perhaps they just scurried along the network of pipes that ran over them, or perhaps they even had some other way up you haven't found. They found the dead, though, that much is clear. The three dead goblins are serving as feast enough for the horde of pallid, misshapen rats that are currently moving over them like a furry and ravenous carpet. The disturbing metal teeth of the goblin that had bitten Brimble are, in fact, more disturbing yet when the soft flesh of lips and cheeks nearby have been stripped away and the metal shards stand out from a pale jawbone.

Either the rats do not notice Brimble, or they simply are far more interested in devouring the meat of the unresisting goblins. Either way, they do not pay the cracked-open door any attention, and Brimble can let it swing back shut gently if he so desires.

Several of you are able to detour to the Vault again to find a suitable chest. The construct-steward does not object to you taking both a container and some sealing wax, as long as it is duly logged. You return to the dormitory, where most of you work on sealing the chest carefully while Brimble and Argatha go to ensure the path back to the Iron Strata is free of vicious goblins.

Brimble Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27 Show-off
Argatha Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9

Brimble makes his way to the swinging door to the showers, but stops before opening it. He... hears something? Yes. Through the door, there is something moving. The kobold pauses, head cocked as he tries to place the sound.

It sounds like... a lot of small things? Clicks and rustles and things shuffling and ... chewing?

Map updated; I put all the PCs except Brimble and Argatha back in Dorm 1. Assuming the Dorm door is still open. Brimble and Argatha are in the hallway, but any PC can adjust their position if they wish.

As Em works to carefully wrap the water-bound Courageous in silk, Brilliance continues a languid conversation. ::It's lovely, yes. Perhaps we'll keep it as your usual?

Woops, yeah - no noise on the headset except for ongoing static.

Brimble listens via the helmet but hears only that odd Ksshshsh-noise, sort of like a waterfall perhaps.

Though Em puts her best foot forward with the remaining Courageous, she hears not even a whisper in response from any of them. Brilliance remarks, ::Perhaps they don't like thy dress! Rude of them, the stuck-up prigs![/i] and makes a noise that is almost certainly a giggle.

Rune-that-Destroys comes to the rescue, after a fashion, telling Argatha: [b]::The other Courageous are not bonded to your companion, so they will not speak to her. I will translate, however.

With Rune serving as an intermediary, a number of the remaining items are bundled onto Em's silk for transport. For the remainder, all that must be done is the re-sealing of the secret chamber, which, from watching Forgewise, you are fairly sure there is some switch or something on the statue of Torag.

Then remains the question of how and where to hide the others. The simplest method would be just to return to the Iron Strata kitchen, go down the pipe to where you originally entered, and toss the items in. However, you have no awareness of how deep the water might be, right there, or where the deepest spots of the cistern/reservoir are.

The Courageous, even those bonded to you, are of little direct help on that front. Rune seems the most knowledgeable on the matter, but even it cannot offer more than the knowledge that the reservoir has varying depths.

Rune says: ::I cannot advise swimming in it, unless you wish a fight with the fish. They are aggressive creatures-- both food source and defensive measure-- and will likely come to investigate the source of any disturbance. Somewhere there is likely to be a skiff, for travel between the various maintenance islands, but I could not say where. Determining depth does not require you to immerse yourselves, however. A plumb and string of sufficient length would suffice, as one method. Or you might lower Zenith.

Zenith says (apparently able to 'hear' Rune's words): ::Ohhhh let's go with the plumb, shall we? I didn't agree to this adventure only to be used as a fishing lure for a spikemouth, thank you~

::And I'm afraid vision alone is all that I might give you, Xiramona. But thank you for the carrier, and thank your friend: this shall be much better than riding in a sack or a pocket.

(Indeed, Em's crafting has resulted in a rather nice cradle of gold silk and deep purple thread, in which Zenith gleams all the prettier.)

After all these words are relayed aloud to each of you, Rune has a bit more to add on, with the odd psychic sensation of a throat clearing:

::As for a 'living flame,' as the drakeborn mentioned.... I believe that was merely some poetry on the celedon's part, for his dialect was rather archaic. The rune-script for the owners of each dagger and pendant is visible by firelight-- simple fire, nothing miraculous about it, other than the miracle that fire itself may be considered to be.

Colin has a solid question about the damage posed by the water itself to these fine items. The Professor stirs from whatever thoughts occupy it 98% of the time in order to respond. ::Water and pressure and algae wilt not be terribly pleasant for us, but we art durable entities. A chamber would be more comfortable, yes, but not required. In the interests of expediency it may be foregone.

::We will have to go up at some point so I think the wiser course is to leave them be rather than risk falling into a trap and having to come back down to the Steel level later anyway. How would you assess the situation?:: he asks, interested in the blade's thoughts as well as wanting to ensure Thunder-follows-Lightning feels involved. Not that the sword has been slow to voice an opinion when it has one.

The blade takes a few moments to respond. Its demeanor seems much more withdrawn than yesterday to Phantrel.

::Tactically speaking, you are not yet fully familiar with this level. You know part of it. But you have no awareness at all how many points connect to the level above you, through which the slagborn can travel; therefore you have no knowledge of where to best position yourselves defensively. If you wish to fortify defensively then you must gain more knowledge of your defenses. But that is short term tactics. Your greater strategy is your desired escape. At some point you will no doubt have to pass through the areas the goblins hold, unless you can find a path around them.

*****

Altynbekh's motionless, expressionless face swivels in Phantrel's direction. After a long pause, the machine-figure moves methodically towards Phantrel, and will follow him back to the temple area.

::Good morning Rune-that-Destroys. Ready to kill some goblins today?::

The bow takes its time to respond. ::Is it morning, then? If slagborn threaten you then yes. I am ready.

::Yes, that would come in handy! Though of course I wouldn't want to send you anywhere I couldn't easily retrieve you. Do you have darksight, or would you need my light spell?

There is a light sound of bells ringing which appears to be Zenith laughing. ::Yes, please do not lose me so soon after finding me. And certainly not in some sort of dank hole that you thought to investigate! As for darksight.... a complicated question. It is more relevant that you do NOT have darksight. You would 'see' through me-- using your own senses. If there is no light where I am, you would feel that limitation moreso than I would. Clear?

Breakfast is consumed with more, or less, personal eagerness depending on your feelings about magically-flavored mushrooms and pickled fish. The group discusses a little as they eat: Xira's right that the list of tasks seem to be growing as fast as rabbits. Goblins above you, the Courageous, trying to reposition Altynbekh, the clan daggers, and far far above-- the shadow-thing, and the GMC.

Xira is also right to want to inspect the two who had been injured the day before. If Argatha's cheek is infected from the claws of the corrupted priest, she doesn't detect it-- no heated skin, no reddened flush. Brimble, on the other hand... the flesh beneath her careful fingers is-- well, scaled, of course-- but it feels warmer than it should be. She thinks. It's not like she's had much chance to practice medicine on kobolds before. But it's warmer than his hide is on other parts of him. It's not exactly conclusive, but she still doesn't like it: those metal 'teeth' had been a nightmare of rust and gods-knows-what-filth lives in a feral goblin's mouth.

Xira thinks it is strongly possible that Brimble might have caught something from the goblin bite. Since the wound is closed over now, flushing it out won't really help. When the party goes to rest "tonight", Xira can make another heal check to try and help Brimble resist a possible infection.

In between bites, Phantrel slides Thunder-follows-Lightning into the newly crafted scabbard.

::Yes, it is fine work, the blade echoes Phantrel's praise. ::What will you all do now?

That is the great question for today, fledgling heroes. The most time-sensitive might be trying to convince Altynbekh to move into a specific spot before his inner furnace cools down.

Giving new orders to Altynbekh will mean a Diplomacy check or a Deception check - the latter to insinuate that Forgewise or some other suitable individual has given new orders

(The scabbard is also brought back-- made of scraps of leftover darkleaf for the leather, embellished with gold from the ingots you procured, and decorated with the single good-sized moonstone that Argatha found in the vault. It is a fitting home for Thunder-follows-Lightning.)

The spot where Brimble had been bitten seems healed. Argatha's magic had nearly sealed the bite; the night's rest means only a little tender spot remains under Brimble's pale scales. Having investigated his injury, the kobold decides to go investigate something else: Forgewise's progress!

He doesn't hear any sounds as he approaches. He also doesn't see the flicker of fiery light that had filled the room. It seems dark in there. Could Forgewise be... resting? Does he need to sleep?

Tiptoeing all the way to the doorway, Brimble peers in...

There is no sign of the celestial smith, but there is what looks to be a dark jerkin resting on the anvil, sized just right for a kobold... Assuming Brimble approaches to check it out:

The darkleaf that Brimble had brought back has been reworked into a well-crafted tunic of sorts. He holds it up and can't help a little noise of appreciation: it's perfect, and sized just for him. Not cast-off clothes made for talls... not mass-produced garments that the GMC loans out that have been worn by creatures of his same general size but different anatomy-- halflings, gnomes, goblins-- and then turned back in to be given out to someone else... no, the durable jerkin is a custom-for-Brimble special. He's eager to try it on but knows already that it will fit like a glove. It's mostly made of the darkleaf, with a few fastenings and clasps here and there of metal, though Forgewise thoughtfully darkened them to keep any gleam from breaking Brimble's attempts at stealth. The darkleaf has been cut into small overlapping shapes, rather like a dragon's scales.

(You gain one suit of masterwork lamellar darkleaf, small-sized)

A note, written on a scrap of gold silk, fluttered to the floor when Brimble lifted the armor. Dwarven runes have been inscribed in charcoal on the fabric-- small enough that you wonder a bit how Forgewise managed to write in such tiny script, but apparently he had a way.

My guests: I pray the armor and the scabbard meet with thy delight and that they serve thee well. I beg thy grace that I didst not stay to see them in thine hands, but on their completion, I could no longer bear to stay apart from the perfect forge that is my true home. The Courageous art in goodly hands, I ween. May Torag guide thee and protect thee in thine paths.

P.S. Presenting a clan dagger before a living flame shouldst allow you to read the name of its owner.

P.P.S. Altynbekh will return to this chamber for water. You may take the decanter if thou wishest, but I doubt thou wilt be able to heat his innards sufficiently to grant him his semblance of life. Do not trouble thyself over him- time shall not pass for him.

Farethee well and well and well again,
Forgewise

The decanter mentioned is the same one that you have seen Forgewise pouring water for tea from: a pretty silver vase with blue gemstones on it, resting on a low shelf, not far from where the copy of Hammer and Tongs also rests.

*****

Em quickly understands that she no longer has control over her outfit. Frowning a bit, she examines what she's been given to wear. Her frown deepens. ::This does not exactly display my sense of imagination, originality, and creativity.

::Oh, is it not to thy liking? Yet it was the first you attempted, Brilliance answers her, undeniably sounding smug and insufferable. If Em is annoyed over it, at least she has the new distraction of realizing she can do magic. True, real, magic!

*****

The white mushrooms Phantrel is able to retrieve from the box's insides smell fragrantly earthy, and look as perfect as any he ever found growing at the base of a tree in the forest. Sliced up and mixed with spikemouth, they are hearty enough-- and much tastier once Xira thinks of attempting to experiment with her own magic, seeing if she can impart a kind of flavor to them. It works, to her delight.

Just as the group is pondering where Brimble might have gone-- without telling anyone, tsk!-- the kobold reappears in the doorway, clutching a few new items, including his new armor. Unless for some reason Brimble wouldn't return to the dorm right away.

A roll for Em: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

What would you like your outfit to be today, Em? That deep purple gown of yesterday? Something new?

....doesn't matter. Your dress changes to blue and cream. Specifically, an azure dress, trimmed with gold needlework and flounces of cloth the color of fresh cream.