Gull Peeper defends the puppies, dreadfully jealous of the fact that they have no warglet of their own.
Nell makes a face of disgust as she rushes in to kill the rodents, hoping to get it over with as quickly as possible.
Gull critically strikes a rat, slaying it instantly. Nell finishes off the one Allandir wounded.
The remaining rat snaps its jaws but doesn't hit anything.
It is simple for the seven of you to dispatch the single rat before it can attack again.
Pril looks over the dead rodents and takes a moment to toss the body of each one out the opening in the wall.
"Foul things," she says. "I hope there's not more of them. An infestation is a nasty thing to deal with."
She returns to her pup and gives her a scratch behind the ears. "Good girl. Like Allandír said, someday you'll be able to take things like that on all by yourself. But for now, watch and learn."
Heading to the eastern door, she waits for Gull Peeper to look it over before opening it.
A short hallway leads to another room. Once-plush crimson curtains hang in tatters on the walls, and scuffs reveal places where portraits once hung. Trash and rotted food lie in heaps on the floor like tiny moldering corpses. Open doors lead to north, northeast, and southwest.
There seems to be little of value in this room, so you move on to the final room on the ground floor. Although many of the circular tables and heavy wooden writing desks here are tipped over or otherwise ransacked, the bookshelves against the wall and the nature of furniture suggest this was once a room where significant legal research took place. A few books remain, mostly dry treatises on the history of the Order of the Nail.
As you reflect on your recent experiences, you feel stronger and better prepared for the challenges that lie ahead of you.
She returns to her pup and gives her a scratch behind the ears. "Good girl. Like Allandír said, someday you'll be able to take things like that on all by yourself. But for now, watch and learn."
"Actually... now strikes me as the ideal time to do some learning," Allandír murmurs.
He approaches one of the rat corpses that Pril hasn't yet disposed of. "Come here, little ones. But be careful not to touch the bodies - they often carry disease." Using his knife, he cautiously points out vulnerable spots on the body. "Most things you face will be weak here, at the back of the neck: bite down with your jaws here and you have a kill. But it's difficult to do that except from surprise." He gives them a quick scritch behind the ears, to keep their attention.
"Your other best option is here, either side of the neck. Most things protect this carefully, so if the two of you work together, one of you should get in behind." He indicates the hamstrings with his knife. "If you bite something here, it will try to turn around on instinct, leaving itself open." Another scritch. "I've no idea how much of this you're taking in, by the way. But..."
He takes them by the scruffs of their necks, dangling them at eye level so they can see how serious he is. "We never, EVER, kill for fun or for sport. We do it from need, for food, for defence of ourselves, or our friends. We kill quickly, cleanly, and with as little suffering as we can. Your father - your sire - would have killed us for the fun of crunching our bones. Don't be like that. Be better."
He gently sets them back down, and spends a few minutes playing with them. "Good girls. Now, who wants something else to eat?"
The warg puppies sit on their haunches as they listen carefully to Allandir. They whine a bit when he picks them up, but dart around and lick the elf's hands as he plays with them.
"Eat! Eat!" they yip enthusiastically.
"You are such good girls!" Pril enthuses as the puppies respond to Allandír's instructions. "And I know you're going to grow up big and strong."
She rises from the ground and looks around.
"Unless we missed something along the way, we didn't discover any way down into the basement. Since that's where the goblin tribe is from, we should ask them how to get down there."
Allandír frowns as he's reminded of the next task. He sighs. "Very well, we did, ah, make that agreement; and I like to think I am an elf of my word."
He calls softly to one of the warglets. "Here, Talitha - there's a good girl." He gives her another strip of beef jerky.
His expression is thoughtful as Talitha wargs down her food and looks up hopefully for more. "If the greenskins lived down there for any length of time, then presumably they can tell us the layout." He looks sour. "I suppose a map would be too much to hope for from things that believe writing is against their religion."
Having noticed Gull Peeper watching the warg pups with something akin to envy. Pril approaches them as the group moves in search of the goblins.
"Hey," she says quietly. "You didn't speak up when we found the pups, but I kind of get the impression that you'd really like one of them. I sorta stacked a claim without checking with anyone else. I could blame it on being a gnome and impulsive, but that's not really a valid excuse." She shrugs. "Allandír has already named one of them. Would you like to ... to name the other?"
It's clear she's trying to offer more than just a name, but doesn't want to make it sound like she's giving something she might not have the right to have.
When you return to the Bumblebrashers and ask about the entrance to the dungeons below Citadel Alterein, the chief Helba bobs her head enthusiastically. "Yes, yes! The secret entrance is down the hill to the west. Not far! I can show you the way, and I can draw you a map of the part where we used to live!"
She sketches out a crude rendition of a long hallway with three smaller halls leading north and south. The north halls open onto a complex of six rooms. "There you go! We don't know what the east or south parts of the vaults look like because there are monsters and dead people there! Oh, and be careful! Our mascot, Big Bumble, is probably stuck down there, and probably very hungry. And thus really, really angry!"
Allandír raises an eyebrow, in a weary I'm-about-to-ask-a-question-I'll-regret-knowing-the-answer-to fashion.
"Who, or what, is Big Bumble?"
"Oh!" Helba exclaims. "Big Bumble is a big, fuzzy, grizzly bear! We tricked him into the dungeons to keep it as our mascot, but he got mad and ate a few of us. Rarr! Arggh! Scary! So we kept him locked in his own room and fed him from afar. Hmm... Maybe you can let Big Bumble out of his pen and set him loose on those nasty cultists who chased us out! But, uh, Big Bumble has trouble telling who is his friend and who is his enemy, so probably stay out of his way, yes?"
The tall elf blinks in disbelief as the goblin casually, almost gleefully recounts the tale of animal cruelty - a disbelief that quickly turns to disgust. It's time for another animal training session. The only difference is that he picked the warglets up by the scruffs of their necks, so as not to hurt them.
Striding forward, he casually lifts the goblin leader up by its throat until it is at eye level with him. His voice is soft, conversational; but the tone is icy-cold.
"I have something of a, ah, conundrum. You see, we encountered these two warg puppies and have sort of adopted them. I have just spent several minutes explaining to them that we only kill for food or defence or need, and that we don't hurt animals for sport, and we don't make them suffer."
He tightens his grip slightly on the thing's throat. " It seems that you are in need of the same sort of lesson, because -unfortunately - I now find that your tribe has captured an innocent bear, dragged it far underground from the light of day and imprisoned it so it can be your - what - your mascot?! And then, when you flee, you leave it behind to starve!"
His face twists in disgust. "Every time I think your kind can't sicken me any further, you go and prove me wrong."
He shakes the thing a bit more, for emphasis, before dropping it to sprawl in the dirt. "Please tell me at least that you haven't taken a parent from their cubs. That would really make me cross."
Helba's eyes bulge and she struggles for breath as Allandir lifts her by the throat. The other Bumblebrasher goblins shriek in terror and scramble to hide from the angry elf.
Once he finally lets Helba go, she glares up at him angrily. "Big Bumble is a big bear! Full grown! We didn't want to leave him there, but we did what we had to do to avoid getting killed by evil cultists!"
Allandír hisses in anger as his green eyes ignite into forest-fire mood. "Self, self, self! When push comes to shove, your kind thinks of you, and you alone."
He crouches down, matching the goblin glare for icy-death glare. "You didn't stop to think whether that majestic creature wanted to be your mascot before you tricked it underground, did you? That it was happy being in its natural environment? No, you saw something you wanted and you did what your kind always does. Take. Use. Despoil."
His fists clench and unclench as he does his best to master his rage. "I do not want to kill you in front of the puppies. It would set a bad example."
He takes a deep breath. "OK. This is what we're going to do. I will keep my word and venture below to remove the, ah, intruders. But I will also rescue the bear, if he is still alive, and bring him up here so he can explain to you just how, ah, upset he is at the way you treated him. I do not expect you to survive that explanation. Nor do I care."
He points at the gate to the keep. "Alternatively, you can start running. Remember, you, ah, don't have to outrun the bear. You just have to outrun your companions."
Ervan keeps the conversation at bay in an effort to not have the goblins' stupidity taint his mind. No matter what, goblins will be goblins, and there's good reason certain social stigmas stick. This should be over any second now. Yes, run, goblins, run.
Sadly, however, the conversation only manages to further escalate matters. "With that being said ...", the Isgerian arcanamathician tries, hoping his words manage to add punctuation to the elf's words. "There's a bear waiting to be rescued."
Gull Peeper looks at the baby warg and at the offering gnome querulously, not used to being trusted with decisions like this. After a short period of silence, the goblin mutters, "Small Peeper," and scatters, nervous.
---
The goblin reaches up to try and smack Allandír, furious. "You stop it! You evil, insensitive elf man! Yes, Bumblebrashers mess up, kidnap bear is f##$ed up thing to do, but you do not threaten to set bear on people, even if they were," the ex-acrobat side-eyes the chief, "unwise enough to do such a thing. We supposed to be heroes. We help people. Not put big teeth warglet in someone's face and say 'I would like to eat you.' You are a bad person and you need an attitude adjustment."
They stand back and catch their breath. "All day you been whining, I just stand back and listen, but I cannot watch you threaten my kinsmen with death and not intercede. I hate you, but someone needs to rein you in. Separate yourself and cool off. Ugly, broken thing that you are."
Shifting their weight, the goblin looks away from the elf, fully expecting to be murdered by the evil man and go undefended, unavenged. "Gull Peeper apologize for slapping you. How about we free bear and Bumblebrashers promise to be nicer and more considerate in the future?"
Watching Allandír getting angrier as the conversation continues, Pril attempts to intervene. She steps between the two and looks back at the elf with a gaze partway between pleading and commiseration. Turning to Helba, she holds up a hand.
"We will discuss the treatment and fate of the bear once we've dealt with whomever has taken over your home," she says. She glances over her shoulder at Allandír again. "Ok?" The gnome takes a calming breath before continuing. "We need you to show us the way down to the basement. Please do."
As the group follows the goblin chieftess to the secret entrance, Pril walks close to the elven ranger. "I'm not condoning what the goblins did to that poor bear. But it sounds like they were just trying to survive. They chose a poor method to do it, but it sounds like it was out of desperation rather than malice. Hopefully we can release the bear without further injury to it and the goblins have already paid with lives of their fellow tribesmembers."
She looks up at him and smiles. "I'd much rather have drinks tonight with Allandír than with Pelanor." Her gaze returns to her feet. "Unless Allandír is better at draughts."
Allandír stares at the goblin that struck him, but he doesn't retaliate - instead, putting one hand to the mark on his cheek, he coldly turns his head, presenting the other side of his face for a similar blow: go on, then. Show me what you have.
His voice is even quieter than usual as he replies to the goblin's tirade, in a controlled fury. "If speaking up for those who cannot speak for themselves is, ah, evil, if wanting to punish those who harm the innocent is insensitive, then I accept those labels gladly. And I am glad you agree that what they did is, ah, f#~#ed up. But they don't seem to think so. They are proud of what they did. If you want to side with them, well, that is on your, ah, conscience. Assuming that you things have one of those."
He gives Pril a rueful look. "I think you may have, ah, misunderstood. These things chose to capture that bear and drag it underground, locking it up far from the light of day. For no other reason than to be their, ah, mascot." He makes no attempt to hide his disgust. "They aren't even sorry. Let us, ah, leave aside for one moment my low opinion of goblins in general: if human bandits - or gnomes, or even my own people - had done this, I would want them punished for it. I certainly would not want to help them reclaim their living space. They have no right to it."
He sighs. "You - very wisely - suggested that I judge them on their own deeds, and not those of others of their kind. It speaks well of you. Now I am doing exactly that. And I say this as Allandír - as Pelanor, I would have shot the goblins on sight." He sighs again. Simpler times. Oh well, you cannot go on and on about the good old days.
He offers her what he hopes is a conciliatory smile: "I was never much good at board games. Perhaps you can teach me over a drink or two?"
Gull Peeper looks at the baby warg and at the offering gnome querulously, not used to being trusted with decisions like this. After a short period of silence, the goblin mutters, "Small Peeper," and scatters, nervous.
"Small Peeper," Pril says to herself with a smile. "I like that."
She kneels down to ruffle the scruff of the pup in question. "So what do you think, Small Peeper? Does that name suit you?"
"I would want them punished for it. I certainly would not want to help them reclaim their living space. They have no right to it."
He sighs. "You - very wisely - suggested that I judge them on their own deeds, and not those of others of their kind. It speaks well of you. Now I am doing exactly that. And I say this as Allandír - as Pelanor, I would have shot the goblins on sight." He sighs again. Simpler times. Oh well, you cannot go on and on about the good old days.
He offers her what he hopes is a conciliatory smile: "I was never much good at board games. Perhaps you can teach me over a drink or two?"
Pril frowns. Her green eyes darkening. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I was ... I guess I wasn't paying attention. But in any case, we have a job to do. Our services were enlisted to ensure the safety of the goblin tribe. If the goblins continue to engage in ... reprehensible activities ... then it's up to the council to decide what the consequences are. They are the authorities here."
The gnomes ever-present smile slips back on to her face. "And I'm sure there are many games that you could teach someone like me."
Small Peeper barks happily. "Small! Small!"
After dusting herself off, Helba sulkily leads you to the secret door down the hill. She stays behind as you head down a short hallway that leads to another secret door.
This wide, empty stone hallway is oppressive and dark. To the east, the hall ends at three separate open doorways, while six additional corridors branch off to the north and south. A mass of rubble spills out of a clogged archway in the northeastern portion of the room.
Two enormous birds move about the hall. Each of the 6-foot-long birds foot-long birds sports spectacular multicolored feathers trailing from its tail, wings, and crest. Upon spotting you, they shriek and flap their wings angrily!
Doing something the others haven't seen the wizard do, yet, Ervan uses his wand to scribe equations in the air around his allies. Whilst seemingly the act of a mad man, those close to him start noticing how the air around them shimmers.
Ervan knows quite a bit about these creatures, known as emperor birds! The emperor bird is native to the jungles of the Mwangi Expanse and known for its brilliant plumage and innate magic. While it usually feeds on lizards, big insects, and other small creatures, the emperor bird is highly territorial and not afraid to attack larger prey. Its beak, resembling that of the much smaller peafowl, is exceptionally sharp, but its deadliest weapon is its tail—the long, whiplike blades of bone hidden among its tail feathers are a nasty surprise for any predator trying to sneak up on the bird.
The emperor bird was given its current name 2,000 years ago when Taldor’s Sixth Army of Exploration ventured into the Mwangi Expanse. When the legion spotted this 6-foot-long bird with its spectacular multicolored feathers trailing from its tail, wings, and crest, the soldiers thought the bird regal enough to suit their emperor, disregarding the name the Mwangi had given to the bird generations before, bebaki. Keeping an emperor bird was, for many years, a sign of prestige among the nobility of Taldor. That was long ago, however, and emperor birds eventually fell out of fashion.
The emperor bird uses its brilliant, iridescent plumage for mating displays as well as for intimidating rival suitors and potential predators. Not only are the feathers beautiful, but they are actually magical—a fact that has piqued the interest of alchemists and wizards alike, many of whom have spent decades capturing and breeding emperor birds in the hope of unlocking their arcane secrets.
"Careful! It's tail strikes like an ogre with a greatclub!" Best to exaggerate a little to drive the point home that the bird's tail is not to be taken lightly.
"... and dibs on the feathers!"
One of the emperor birds flies forward, stopping ten feet from Gull Peeper and lashing the goblin with its tail. The other one moves closer and spreads its plumage. The feathers glisten in a dazzling display!
Success The creature is dazzled for 1 round.
Failure The creature is dazzled for 1d4 rounds.
Critical Failure The creature is confused for 1d4 rounds.
Blinking her eyes to clear the bright colors, Pril moves forward to attempt to deal with one of the birds.
Ervan concentrates on his protective enchantment. This causes the protective bubble to grow, bringing forth shimmering barriers that actively resist the birds' murderous movements. Somehow in between all of this, the wizard manages to find enough time to cast a spell.
Pril frowns. Her green eyes darkening. "I'm sorry," she says quietly. "I was ... I guess I wasn't paying attention. But in any case, we have a job to do. Our services were enlisted to ensure the safety of the goblin tribe. If the goblins continue to engage in ... reprehensible activities ... then it's up to the council to decide what the consequences are. They are the authorities here."
Allandír looks at her sidelong: "My understanding is that we were being paid to find out what happened to them. Going back and telling the council that they were, ah, despoiling the local wildlife and paid the penalty for it would still technically count."
He doubts that Pril will go for it, but it's worth a try.
The gnome's ever-present smile slips back on to her face. "And I'm sure there are many games that you could teach someone like me."
The tall elf's green eyes sparkle, and he gives her a genuine smile.
As they enter the hillside, Allandír's eyes struggle to adjust to the dark. "Come, Talitha." He reaches down and ruffles the warglet's fur, before scooping her up and letting her ride in the hood of his cloak. "Stay close, little one. We don't want you getting lost, do we?" He scritches affectionately under her chin. "And I'm sure those small legs of yours must be getting tired. We've made you and your sister run around a lot today, haven't we? But it's been fun, I hope."
Busy chatting to the little warglet, he isn't paying his usual attention and is caught by surprise when the birds swoop in. Cursing himself (silently), he aims his bow at the closest one and fires.
Pril lands one light blow on the bird she attacks. Allandir scores a devastating strike on the other, his arrow sticking through the animal's neck and leaving it terribly wounded! His follow-up shots miss, though. Ervan's lightning bolt zaps that bird but Pril's foe dodges the blast.
Allandír looks at her sidelong: "My
understanding is that we were being paid to find out what happened to them. Going back and telling the council that they were, ah, despoiling the local wildlife and paid the penalty for it would still technically count."He doubts that Pril will go for it, but it's worth a try.
"You didn't spend any time in Cheliax by any chance, did you?" Prill asks, her eyes narrowing. "Because that sound just like some of the language that the Asmodeons slip into their agreements. I'd much rather work with the intent of an agreement, rather than the letter." The gnome gives the elf a shove with her small shoulder. "You make more friends that way."
Gull Peeper becomes entranced by the display of feathers, and in shielding their eyes, loses track entirely of the battle.
The emperor bird's display leaves Nell dazzled!
Thoroughly bewildered, Gull Peeper bites Lucius on the leg before slashing wildly at Allandir with their dagger.
Grimacing in pain, Lucius nontheless fires a crossbow bolt square into the chest of the wounded bird, slaying it!
Nell and Alak move to engage the remaining bird, but their attacks come up short.
The bird shrieks as it lashes its tail, slicing into Pril and Alak. It follows up with another tail strike that lacerates Pril again!
Giving the goblin a glance that is a mixture of annoyance and amused contempt, Allandír dismisses them from his attention, moving swiftly out of Gull Peeper's reach and focusing on the remaining bird.
Pril grits her teeth and continues striking with her hands as the feathers fly. Determined not to let an overgrown turkey get the better of her.
Still blinking hard against the bright spots that cloud her vision, Nell nonetheless swings her blade where she thinks the bird is.
Ervan sees Prill taking the worst of the bird's ill-mannered nature, but he's unsure whether his protective aura would help her. Should he move and do nothing but bring Prill into the bubble or cast a spell and hope that it manages to knock the bird out? He opts for the latter.
Still confused, Gull Peeper attacks Allandir, this time managing to bite the elf. The goblin finally comes to their senses.
Allandir scores two solid hit, badly wounding the emperor bird. Lucius's crossbow bolt goes wide of his target. Likewise, Nell's attacks come up short as the bird squawks and dodges her blade.
Alak hacks the bird twice with his greatsword, then Ervan's spell burns out the beast's brain, and it falls!
The monk shakes her head, trying to stop the bells from ringing. When they've finally stopped, she takes a moment to collect a particularly flashy feather that's fallen loose from one of the huge birds and stows it in her bag.
"More tropical creatures," she says. "I get the feeling that at least one of these gates is working and it goes somewhere ... south."
Once any healing has finished, she approaches the northwestern passage. "We should be methodical about this," she says. "Let's start here."
A broken bed frame, splintered drawers, and a smashed desk mark this chamber as a long-abandoned bedroom. Greasy tents and moldy piles of cloth reveal that someone has recently been squatting here.
Two froglike humanoids pace restlessly around this room. When they spot you, though, they croak angrily and prepare to attack!
Pril moves quickly into the room and engages with one of the creatures.
Pril punches the frog-man once, but it dodges her other blows.
The wizard is taken back to his college years by the sight of the frogmen. Oh, how he hated those biology seminars! Dissecting frogs and then mock-reanimating them with electrical magics - the guest lecturer thought this was highly impressive, Ervan did not. Well, it's time to put a fitting end to those awful memories.
The tall elf nods in gratitude to the Cardinal as the healing energy heals up the wound from the goblin's bite.
He raises an eyebrow as they round into the next room and encounter the frog-things: "Well that's something you don't see every day." He draws back his bow and fires at the nearest one.