The morning sun poured through the windows of the Sleeping Dragon Inn, its golden rays casting a warm glow over the dining hall where the group had gathered for breakfast. The hearty smell of fresh-baked bread, sizzling bacon, and savory stews filled the air, and the clinking of silverware was accompanied by the occasional chuckle or murmur of conversation. Some of the group, now fully refreshed from the trials of the previous day, leaned back in their chairs with contented sighs, savoring every bite as though they had earned it. Gundar, especially, seemed to appreciate his meal, his hearty laughter filling the room as he praised the quality of the food.
Caius, still not fully recovered from the fever that had plagued him, looked considerably more spry than the day before. His movements were no longer stiff, and the usual fire in his molten eyes had returned, though the past night's rest had done little to erase the weariness he still felt in his bones. The fever had broken due to the magical ale served at Heidmarch Manor, and though his body still felt a little sluggish, the lingering aches were far more manageable. He sat at the table, eating more slowly than usual, but with the strength and vigor of someone who had weathered a storm and emerged into the light of a new day.
Meanwhile, Ghaernan seemed a touch more contemplative, staring out the window as his thoughts drifted back to the ceremony the night before. The words of the oath still echoed in his mind, the gravity of their meaning settling deeper now that he had become part of something greater than himself. As much as he had embraced the idea of being a Pathfinder, the weight of responsibility now rested upon his shoulders, and it was something he couldn't simply brush aside. His thoughts occasionally flicked to the journey ahead and the unknown challenges that awaited the group. Was he truly ready to face whatever lay beyond? Would their talents, their strength, be enough?
The group, refreshed and ready, gathered their belongings after a quick check of their gear. True to her word, Venture Captain Heidmarch had arranged for Andel Gesseran to meet them at the Sleeping Dragon Inn, and from there, he guided them to the docks. The salty tang of the sea air was a welcome change after the stuffy confines of the Inn, and the sun’s warmth on their faces was a pleasant contrast to the chill of the previous day's encounters.
Andel had already secured an eight-man crewboat, its hull gleaming in the morning light. The boat was stocked with provisions—jugs of water, wineskins filled with the mead from the Linnorm Kings, lanterns, oil, and lengths of rope and ten-foot poles—everything the group might need for their journey into the heart of this mystery. Even the smallest details had been accounted for, from the sturdy oars to the extra blankets, should the journey take longer than expected. Sheila’s foresight in arranging these supplies was a testament to her experience and the care she took in ensuring the group’s success.
With no time to waste, the group loaded their gear onto the boat. The journey had started off slow as they navigated the unfamiliar waters, and the muscles they had barely realized existed protested at first as they took turns manning the oars. It took roughly thirty minutes, but the group worked in tandem, some of them taking on more of the heavy lifting, others keeping an eye out for anything unusual on the horizon.
Eventually, the towering silhouette of the Irespan came into view—its massive, ancient pillars stretching high above them, casting long shadows across the water. This particular section of the Irespan was known as "the Crow," and it loomed over the party like a silent sentinel, the shadows of the past lingering within its stone walls. Verilich, ever vigilant although not overly graceful in the air, soared high above the boat, his wings cutting through the bright sky as he scouted ahead, using his keen senses to guide them toward their destination.
The boat veered towards a narrow inlet in the massive stone structure, a hidden entryway long forgotten by most, but likely once designed for water traffic to move goods in and out of this ancient edifice. Verilich’s sharp eyes, from his vantage point above, guided them with expert precision, ensuring they avoided any potential dangers hidden just beneath the water's surface.
As the boat glided closer to the inlet, the heat of the sun now fully embracing the group, there was a quiet anticipation in the air. The day was bright, the water calm, and yet the looming shadows of the Irespan cast an unsettling feeling over the crew. They were about to enter the unknown once again, and this time, it felt different. The stakes were higher. The risks, more dangerous.
But despite the tension, the party moved forward together, the camaraderie they had forged over the past days offering them strength as they sailed into the shadow of the ancient Irespan, prepared for whatever mysteries and dangers awaited them within.
"Trap seeker up!" Caius says in muted tones from the prow of the row boat.
As they head to the boat, Gundar will walk next to Andel, Say laddie, ye seem ta like ta write a lot? Well I'm not so good with tha written word. An' I am knowin' we are supposed ta be reportin' what we found. Iffen I tell ye what I found out, could ye write me words down fer me and this way I can give it to Lady Venture Captain Shelia? What say ye laddie?
As they head to the boat, Gundar will walk next to Andel, Say laddie, ye seem ta like ta write a lot? Well I'm not so good with tha written word. An' I am knowin' we are supposed ta be reportin' what we found. Iffen I tell ye what I found out, could ye write me words down fer me and this way I can give it to Lady Venture Captain Shelia? What say ye laddie?
Andel chuckles, "absolutely. Can you at least take some sketches of the maps to go with it as well?"
Caius glances up at Verilich, soaring above them, the Wyvaran’s wings cutting a precise path through the sky. "He’s got the right of it, scouting ahead," Caius mutters, more to himself than to the others. "No sense charging in blind."
Caius will peer about the stone structure and inlet for any signs that we are being watched and other possible points of ingress.
As the group nears the towering mass of the Irespan's piling known as the Crow, the morning fog clings to the water's surface like a fleeting shroud, gradually dissipating under the warming rays of the sun. The rhythmic splash of oars cutting through the water echoes faintly against the ancient stone walls as Khalid and Caius pull the boat steadily forward, their muscles straining with the effort. The creak of wood and the occasional murmur of conversation from the others in the boat blend into the natural ambiance of the harbor.
Ahead, the looming archway at water level comes into view, its tall lancet shape framing a dark opening that beckons them forward. The intricate craftsmanship of the arch hints at the long-forgotten civilization that constructed this monolithic structure. As the boat glides beneath the arch, the group is greeted by the sight of a chamber partially submerged in seawater. What was once a stepped terrace has become a shallow basin, its steps now hidden beneath the gently rippling surface of the sea. The water here is calm but carries the faint tang of brine and decay.
Tied off to heavy stones on the topmost step, three rowboats rock gently in place, their age and condition suggesting recent but frequent use. Above, the ceiling rises impossibly high, a gaping shaft reaching nearly to the summit of the Crow itself. The interplay of light and shadow from the high opening to the west creates an ethereal quality in the chamber, illuminating the ancient stone with a dim, diffused glow.
At the western end of the chamber, a small alcove comes into view, its floor blackened with the stains of countless campfires. The charred remains of past occupants' meals and tools are scattered across the ground, signs of transient use. Beyond the alcove, the back wall has crumbled away, revealing a dark passage leading deeper into the structure. The jagged edges of the broken wall seem almost like teeth, framing the unknown beyond.
The boat slows as it nears the terrace, the group instinctively scanning the chamber for any signs of danger or movement. The silence here is profound, broken only by the rhythmic drip of water from the oars and the faint whisper of the sea. Verilich hovers above, his keen eyes fixed on the interior as he signals to the others, ensuring their approach remains steady and controlled.
As the boat draws alongside the terrace, the group exchanges glances, the gravity of their task settling over them like a palpable weight. The faint scent of smoke lingers in the air, a reminder of the others who have passed this way and the potential dangers that may lie ahead. Their journey into the Crow has begun.
Caius notices a good amount of guano on the ground, indications that bats, or birds, have been using the chamber as a habitat for some time.
Caius, give me a Will save as well.
"Guano," he mutters, his voice low and deliberate. "Plenty of it, too. Birds or bats have made this place their roost. Could be nothing... or could mean we’re not alone down here. Best keep your eyes on the shadows above, not just the path ahead."
The boat bumps gently against the stone terrace as Khalid and Caius ship their oars, and the group begins the careful process of clambering out. The damp stone underfoot is slick with brine, and the faint scent of salt and decay lingers in the chamber. Water drips from the boat and their boots as they step onto the terrace, the sound echoing softly in the cavernous space.
The scene before them speaks of abandonment and hasty departures. Rubble from the collapsed wall has been pushed outward, forming uneven piles that spill into the chamber. The jagged edges of stone contrast with the smooth, worn surfaces of the ancient terrace, creating a chaotic tableau of disorder against the otherwise precise lines of Thassilonian craftsmanship.
Here and there, traces of recent habitation catch the group's eyes—a broken clay pot half-submerged in a shallow pool, scraps of fabric torn and tangled among the rubble, and a scattering of discarded tools and refuse. A single, muddy boot leans precariously against a rock, as if forgotten in someone's rush to leave. Yet despite these signs of life, the chamber itself is eerily silent, the stillness broken only by the occasional drip of water from the high ceilings above.
Along the terrace, the group notices another rowboat tied securely to a heavy stone anchor. Unlike the derelict items scattered about, this boat appears to be in good repair, its hull sound and its oars resting neatly within. The presence of such a well-maintained vessel hints at recent activity and raises questions about its owner and purpose.
The air is cool and damp, heavy with the weight of history and the faint whisper of the sea beyond. The group instinctively scans the room for threats, their eyes lingering on the dark passage revealed by the collapsed wall. The jagged opening gapes like a wound in the stone, inviting them deeper into the Crow's ancient and labyrinthine depths.
As the group fans out to take stock of their surroundings, the odd piece of discarded clothing or equipment serves as a reminder that this place was used not long ago. Yet now it feels empty, as if abandoned in haste. Verilich's wings stir the air as he hovers nearby, his keen gaze scanning the shadows for movement.
The faint creak of leather and clink of gear accompany the group as they ready themselves to move forward. The passage ahead looms dark and foreboding, a promise of both danger and discovery. With the rowboat secured and their nerves steeled, they prepare to press onward into the unknown.
Khalid will activate the light from his shiny new Wayfinder, ensuring light in the darkness beyond.
This is way better than torches. I'm going to like these pathfinders.
For the room Khalid is moving into:
Caius strides forward to stand beside Khalid and view the next chamber.
"As many as a a dozen beings were camped here."
Verilich would fly into the room and stealthfully take up a position against the far wall attempting to find hidden attackers.
Verilich spots the same things Caius did. And can try the Survival check, if desired.
"Seems safe to move in and look around gentlemen."
To the south, just beyond the main passageway, the group spots a small chamber whose purpose becomes immediately apparent. A vile stench wafts out, thick and cloying, making even the open air seem suddenly oppressive. The acrid smell of human waste lingers heavily, and dark stains on the floor near the entrance confirm that this room has been used as a privy in the not too distant past. The sight alone is enough to elicit grimaces and muffled curses from the group, as the reeking air seems to crawl out into the corridor.
In the dim light, the southeast corner of the chamber reveals a sorrowful sight: the rotten remains of a small dog, huddled and forgotten. Its decay has progressed to the point of bare bones and tufts of matted fur, adding a putrid undertone to the already overwhelming odor. Flies buzz lazily around the carcass, their incessant drone punctuating the grim stillness.
From their vantage point, it is clear that this small chamber served its singular, unpleasant purpose. Whatever travelers or squatters last passed through left behind only filth and decay, making it a place few would willingly enter.
"Unless someone wants to rummage through the literal pile of shit there, I guess we are headed up."