Layaali prays again, surrounding the edimmu in another blinding blast of light.
Furious at his inability to hit the creature, Drael steps in with a sweeping overhead blow as his body begins to crackle with white-hot flames.
Yantuk continues trying his very best to get into the cyclone.
"Gah! Stupid wind! Stupid ghost! Stupid Yantuk!"
"Careful everyone! The cyclone's probably going to move! Try to spread out!" Razif tries to shout over the wind.
He tries one last attempt at dealing an attack before stepping back.
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Layaali blasts the ghostly form with holy radiance, and then Drael chops down with a mighty blow.
With a stunning stillness, the edimmu disappears once more, its windy malevolence dissipated at once. Razif looks down as the flames on his scimitar leap back into their normal state. Yantuk suddenly loses his balance and pitches forward, though he catches himself before falling. The gnomes peek out from where they crouched for cover, terror plain on their face.
The chill mountain night resumes as if nothing happened. Fumes of sulphur soon dance in the air once more.
The morning dawns, pale and thin, a scant rime of frost kissing some surfaces of bare stone near your campsite. A path of stone free of icy precipitate hearkens an innate heat simmering from below the rocks. Breakfast is a mean affair, but the group has a moment to plan their day and regroup their aims.
Drael's flames immediately sputter out as the wind dies down to nothing. He silently walks back to his bedroll and drops his axe atop his pack before falling back into a deep slumber.
Upon waking the next morning, Drael uses their moment of calm to take stock of the party and their situation. Is everyone alright after last night? Hopefully we've seen the last of that thing.
Before bed, Layaali expends the last of her powerful prayers to restore their vigor and heal their wounds.
Come dawn, Layaali rises and performs her daily prayers. "It will return. It is best if we take another path on the return journey. I have not the power to put its soul to rest for good."
Good morning!
King Jack-Jack hops towards the gnomes, to give them tons of cuddles.
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With breakfast completed, the road-hardened band pack up camp and turn towards the ominous outline of Pale Mountain to continue their journey. It appears as if the mountain had crept up on the party as they slept - its looming form dominates the view to the west. Stark and craggy, Pale Mountain bears no snowcapped peak; just dense, foreboding rock from its base to its acme.
Tracking the source of the sulphurous stench is an easy feat. The wind whistles briskly across the scored earth, carrying the fumes from their origin. Over a few difficult hours, Razif hastens the group across elevations of blasted rock to a lonely slope. Midway up the slope, a cleft-like fanged maw cuts horizontally through the pale cliff side, a dark fissure lined with stony outcroppings. Black streaks stain the earth outside the opening, sooty residue as if from some great heat. In uneven blasts, faint smoke exhales from the crack like the noxious breath of the mountain itself.
Razif spots the remnants of a steep and disused path lateral to the cliff face that deposits the party just at the lip of the crevice without requiring any need to climb. This close to the entrance to the Mountain's Maw, the warmth emanating from within pervades gloved fingertips and booted toes numb from the unrelenting blustery high mountain wind. It feels good - for a time - but soon the unrelenting heat begins to irritate, even with the howling winds whipping past. The party reluctantly enters the Mountain's Maw.
Within, a stony passage descends gently for a few hundred feet before opening into a sweltering cavern. Reeking trails of steam and acrid smoke eddy in the eerie light shed by flickering bluish flame that pops and whistles erratically from a crack in the cavern floor. In the middle of the room, a table made of polished stone supports a decrepit clay bowl.
Atop the table lounges a small humanoid creature with stunted wings and a flat gaze. He turns his rock-shaped head your way.
"Bad ghost, wakes up Yantuk. More importantly wakes up finger wigglers. Sleep good, and get your magics back. And next time, give Yantuk a magic stick to hit ghosts with, otherwise Yantuk has the abilities of a spoiled orange."
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As they enter the cavern, Yantuk says,
"Yantuk is good scout, would you like Yantuk to go ahead and... Nevermind." as the creature turns it's gaze towards the party.
Drael steps in front of the others, leaving both hands clearly empty and visible as he speaks calmly to the creature. Hello, we mean no danger to you. We are seeking Andgronakraks.
Razif greets the creature. "We are friends... of a sort... of Beshvi. We've helped her out a little while ago, and she offered us this proof of the agreement she and your people settled a while back." He presents the map Beshvi gave them to him. "We're looking to get into the dominion of the Carrion King, and she informed us there might be a back entrance through your terrain. We seek to pass through."
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Andgronakraks cranes his craggy head towards the document that Razif offers, making no move to take the map, and munching further on the chunk of quartz in his hand as he does so. The creature makes a gravelly noise - similar to rocks grinding together - as he peruses the document. After a few pregnant minutes, he relaxes back into his previous posture and offers a slow gaze at Razif.
"The First World creature that lives in Silver Tarn. We have not seen her in sometime. She used to favour us with pearls - tasty, if but a bit salty. I know nothing of the dominion of this Carrion King, but even the gnolls that come before the Masters bring offerings to show that they are worthy of attention." Here, Andgronakraks inclines his bulky body towards Razif. "What do you bring, I wonder? You and your retinue look less than hardy to pass into the lands of those of the Plane of Fire. Show me your worth; I will arrange for a safe audience for you."
At Andgronakraks' words, Razif and the others realise the sweat dripping from their forms at the inordinate heat in this reception chamber. The ragged blue flame flickering from the vent near the southeastern-most corner of the room gives off an acrid odour. Assistance could be necessary for those unaccustomed to thermal underground hazards.
"Yantuk is uncomfortably temperature sensitive. Cannot make cooling water like you scaleless, hairless types. Yantuk does have some leftover coins though. Shiny like silver, but not silver. Begins with a p. Cannot remember word right now, but would prefer not to part with them?"
"Show you our worth? A beings worth is not measured in goods, treasures, and gems, but in our actions and our skills. I am Layaali, Twice-Dead and Thrice-Born, Templar of the North Wind, and servant of The Cardinal Martyr Vildeis. I wield divine power and can heal many wounds and afflictions. Does anyone here require the aid of a healer? I would use my magic to aid them."
After a moment she adds, "I am also a skilled orator. I could share a story with you and your people. Or, if you prefer, compose a story about you or your people and share it far and wide. Celebrate your people's history through story. Let me show you worth, not with wealth, but words and wisdom."
Razif, stunned at Layaali's confident words, realizes he's still extending the map and puts it back in his bag. He nods at Andgronakraks and says "You have our thanks" in Ignan.
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Androgronakraks blinks slowly at Razif.
"I'd have a nice snack, too, if you'd be so kind, and then we can talk further. In whatever language you'd care to use." The unidentified creature tosses the remaining bit of quartz into its maw and crunches down in a messy fashion, casting his heavy gaze across you all.
Layaali plucks the ioun stone orbiting her head from the air and holds it up. "Then I offer this in exchange for safe passage through your realm to that of the Carrion King. It's magic. That's bound to improve the taste."
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The stony creature sits up abruptly, exhibiting a speed to his movements henceforth unseen as the aasimar offers the ioun stone. He licks what passes for his lips.
"Yes...yes that will do nicely as a treat!" He pushes off the table and nearly leaps at Layaali, snatching the ioun stone from her hand. "Your humble servant will give you safe passage and an impressive introduction." He regards the stone in his rocky paw for a moment before shoving it into his mouth and crunching down with gusto. He then walks back to the table and fishes a ceramic rod from the clay bowl on top of the table and turns back to the party, chewing. One by one, Andgronakraks systematically points the wand at each member, muttering a word of power as he goes. The oppressive heat in the chamber dissipates the moment that the wand's effect takes hold.
Andgronakraks gestures for the party to follow along as he sets off into the northernmost passage leading out of his room. As he goes, he provides useful information.
"Be wary of lighting any flames in these chambers beyond. The vapours from the volcanic activity beneath will ignite. Also, take care where you tread as natural flames burn in the ground."
The curving, gravel-strewn passage widens as it slopes upward. Andgronakraks continues chattering. "The commander Thratnias generally defers issues of this sort to her second-in-command, Lesaar. The sorcerer can often be found in his quarters, so we'll just --- oh, hmm."
Andgronakraks pulls up short in his narrative as you enter the next room. This curving, gravel-strewn passage widens as it slopes upward. Several jets of orange flame light the rocky hall with hellish colour and dancing shadows, revealing a flat landing near the slope’s middle. The contents of several scorched cauldrons bubble and hiss upon the platform, each balanced on ironwork stands. Beyond the cauldrons, the passage continues.
Two salamanders reside in this chamber. The nearer salamander has their six foot-long sinewy snake-like torso wrapped around the nearest cauldron while the rest of their body lounges in the boiling water therein. The farther salamander drills with a spear, attacking and defending against an invisible enemy with violent energy. They snap the point of the spear in your direction as they see the team enter. Andgronakraks murmurs "Excuse me for a moment," then goes to speak with the soaking salamander, who quickly unravels and extracts themself, their flat eyes surveying the party the entire time. Andgronakraks adopts a simpering tone to his voice, evident despite the Ignan uses.
"Mestre, estes são os suplicantes que honrariam nosso domínio. Eles têm riquezas e desejam que lhes concedamos passagem. Pensei em trazê-los para Lesaar."
The salamander hisses in a sibilant voice as boiling water evaporates from the blackened skin of their torso. "Esses tolos desajeitados não entrarão mais em nossa casa. Vá buscar Lesaar. Se ele falar com eles, poderá ouvir seus choramingos aqui. Se não, vamos jogá-los fora."
(Salamander)"These clumsy fools will not pass further into our home. Go and fetch Lesaar. If he will talk to them, then he may hear their mewlings here. If not, then we will throw them out."
Andgronakraks gives a tight nod to of his rocky head to the salamander, then turns back.
"I will return to you with Lesaar. Ultus and Girontnia will wait with you here. One moment, if you please."
He then bustles further up the stony platforms, turns the corner at the far end of the room, and leaves. Even with the magical protections provided by Andgronakraks, the inescapable heat pervading armour leaves the team dripping with sweat. The two salamanders stare down at you malevolently, each brandishing a wicked-tipped barbed spear held still.
Razif looks at the salamanders and then whispers to the others. "These guys say we will not pass further into their home. Hence Andgronakraks is bringing Lesaar here instead of us to him. Looks like there might be more trouble getting through here than I expected..."
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The muscular salamander guards continue to stare threats at the party, their reptilian eyes unblinking. The party members at this point all drip with sweat, those encased in metal armour exponentially so. 'Endure elements', yes, but the spell most definitely didn't make it comfortable.
Fifteen minutes have passed without Andgronakraks' return.
Yantuk only steals for good reason. So he'll ask a fingerwiggler to cast detect magic on the pile before he would try and take anything.
Drael frowns at Razif's translation, but for now stays quiet as he sweats inside his armor.
"Worth grabbing then. Andgronakraks should learn to be a little more careful after this. If it betrays Yantuk, it does not get it's shiny's back!"
Yantuk scoops the loot.
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Yantuk collects a small cache of treasure and then catches up with the remainder of the party. The party awaits.
It has been twenty minutes since the departure of Andgronakraks. The sweat pours from most of you. The salamander wardens continue their vigilant watch - of you.
Razif whispers to the rest.
"This shouldn't be taking this long, right? Should we ask them?"
"Yantuk thinks it's a power thing. They make us wait, and then treat Yantuk and friends like dirt If Razif talks to them, seems impatient, weak, unless Razif asks in a way like they would. Rude, loud, arrogant."
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Another five minutes tick by before Andgronakraks bustles back into the room, hands held at his front. The craggy creature sidesteps the salamanders who continue to glower at the party and approaches Razif.
"It is curious. Lesaar is not in his quarters." Andgronakraks glances briefly behind him at the lead guardian salamander. "Perhaps if you would return with me to the room where you originally entered, then I could enquire with Thratnias."
Unless a change of plans is suggested, Andgronakraks leads the team back out of the sauna-like chamber into the less-sweltering (but still sweltering) original room.
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Andgronakraks leads the party back into the original chamber and away from the unfriendly salamander guardians. As to the disappearance of his cache of items from the floor near the natural flame gout at the northernmost point in the room, he gives no indication of realisation.
Andgronakraks turns about and looks over the adventurers. "I will enquire with the chief. You will not easily be admitted to the shrine room; wait for me here as I make a case in order to win you passage through our realm. If any of the Ignans come into this chamber and question you about your presence, then inform them that you await on Thratnias. That should serve them, temporarily."
And with that, Andgronakraks leaves via the central passage heading east out of the cavern.
As the team enjoys the somewhat-dissipated heat in this outer chamber (and the lack of threatening outsiders), they miss the subtle signs of the entrance of an invisible creature into their space. Abruptly, a disconcertingly scorched-appearing salamander bearing a quarterstaff winks into existence near the passage to the north from where the team just returned. Their blackened skin cracks and pops as they writhe in a serpentine twist, peering at the adventurers with curiosity. They hiss in a hushed sibilance in the common tongue.
"What manner of fools would you be to enter the Coils of Flame, I wonder?" the salamander asks rhetorically. "The gnolls rarely tarry long, though we've seen much less of them recently, and Andgronakraks dispatches those more offensive, so you must have convinced the mephit of your purpose. I am Lesaar, Thaumaturge of the City of Brass. I am told that the air within our realm is subtly toxic to the lungs of human-kind, so speak quickly before you begin to choke."
At that point, everyone but Drael notices a tickle in the back of their throat.
Rab-rab and Yantuk begin coughing, a wheezing and irritating tickle overcoming them.
"Yantuk is coughing! Blood in his throat! Is this the end of Yantuk, slain not by cruel masters, or foul villain's but bad air? Not a good end for a dragonblood!"
Drael looks around at the others, concern creeping into his gaze as he realizes that Yantuk and Rab-rab might be struggling to breathe. We are waiting for Thratnias to grant us permission to pass through this realm. Andgronakraks has asked us to wait here for him. Do you know how long we have in here before the air becomes harmful?
Between strained breaths, Razif adds. "Initially, Andgronakraks was looking for you, but unsurprisingly he didn't find you at your quarters. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Whoa! How did you get in here? Rab-rab asks when the salamander appears.
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Rab-rab and Yantuk look a bit annoyed at the constant tickling cough being experienced - Yantuk more so, in dramatic fashion. Lesaar turns an imperious gaze to Razif, but then inclines their head at the polite greeting. They then look again at Drael.
"I am no expert on human-kind and their tolerance for such things, but if you are awaiting Thratnias' permission to pass through our caverns, then you will all be long dead before that is granted."
Lesaar shifts irritably. "It would seem to be the fate of all who would come to these accursed chambers - languishing uselessly until oblivion claims us."
Lesaar gives an involuntary shudder, then cocks their serpentine head. "Why are you looking to pass through here, then? What seek ye beyond the Coils of Flame?"
Min bows respectfully. "We seek the Carrion King, leader of the gnoll armies that live beyond your realm. The Carrion King would destroy our home, so we seek to destroy him. We learned of a path to the Carrion King through your realm and came to request passage. May we pass through the Coils of Flame?"
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Lesaar pulls their head back as Min address them. When finished, the salamander continues staring at the gnome sorcerer with a flat expression.
"Your child is well spoken." The salamander ambles sideways, a pensive look on their face.
"There is no great love between our people and the gnolls, especially this 'Carrion King'. I would welcome his destruction. I know of the passage of which you speak into the mountain as well as a great treasure hidden just under the nose of the slavering beasts therein." Lesaar stops abruptly, looking up at the team with a sly expression on their serpentine face. Or maybe it's just their face.
"And yet, I cannot give you consent to pass through the Coils; I am only second in command. Woe to you as well, as our current leader - Thratnias - refuses audience with outsiders and maintains a strict isolationist stance here within our caves while we wait for a return to the City of Brass, our home."
"If only we possessed leadership with foresight, then we might uncover the way home. As is for now, we exist in a forced semi-hibernation, squatting in these dull caverns on this uninhabitable plane. And you will not be allowed to pass through here."
At that moment, Andgronakraks reappears from the passage to the east. The craggy creature appears to be limping slightly, a steaming scorch mark evident across the top of his stony head. He stops to regard Lesaar as he emerges, absently rubs at the fresh burn, then shuffles towards the Knight-Protectors of Kelmarane (and the wheezing Yantuk).
"Chief Thratnias declines the request for passage through these chambers. What is more, she insists that you leave now lest you wish to be killed." Andgronakraks delivers the dictum in a flat voice.
"Alas," Lesaar pronounces softly, their eyes still on the party, the sly look still on their face.
"Yantuk does not like tricksy talk. You have scales like the mighty dragons, but you speak in double, or even triple talk. You speak bad of your leader. Is she a cruel master, who beats her underlings? Yantuk promised both Yantuk and Desna that he would not let bad masters make others suffer."
Razif looks at Andgronakraks in shock. "Andgronakraks! What happened? Did Thratnias do this?"
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Lesaar holds his hands wide, bowing his head with a faux-deferential look at Yantuk's accusation. At Razif's words, Andgronakraks harrumphs.
"Of course not. It was Thratnias' consort Kitil who delivered the gesture of displeasure. Our commander does not like to be interrupted." Andgronakraks grinds his jaw, emanating a rocky noise that communicates embarrassment.
"I bid you all farewell from our caverns."
Razif sighs in frustration. "Andgronakraks, you have my apologies. This happened because you wanted to fulfill our request." He turns to Lesaar. "Let's not dance around the subject further. You've got a plan, don't you?"