Everyone climbs onto the platform except for Scramsax who waits to activate the lift and then leaps aboard as it begins to descend.
Slowly you drop into the deep pit. The creak of rope, squeak of pulleys, and your own soft breathing the only sounds. As you sink further the air grows a bit warmer and the smell of soot tickles your noses, along with a soft, almost undetectable breeze that rustles hair, the edge of a cloak, or cuff of a robe.
The light from Scramsax's torch slowly grows larger and brighter. It's almost hypnotic to watch the ever increasing circle of light as the lift descends. Eventually you are able to see the sprawled, broken body of the ghoul not far from the torch. You also see another wooden platform again with rails leading off into another tunnel of some sort. The other end of the lift and its power source is also here, a small coal fueled steam boiler that powers the gears that pulls the ropes up and down the great cliff. Not far from the boiler and platform is a small mound of bones and a tattered cot. A set of makeshift shelves sit near the cot.
Finally the lift lurches to a stop upon the platform and the gears click to a stop bringing silence into the darkness.
Scram had his fingers inches from the magical amulet, but suddenly stopped "Wait, probably cursed or something right? ...was probably what made this one turn?! Damn if it isn't pretty though..." he licks his lips watching the metals glisten in the torchlight.
In the end he voted that the party remove the amulet with his 10 ft pole.
After, the halfling turned his attention to the other features nearby, looking for anything useful or valuable.
"I can search for magic if we want to stay 10 minutes. Can someone check to see if that piece completes the key, or we need to hunt down here some more." The gnome offers for suggestions while looking around for anything obvious.
Trevor looks at Ibrox: "Are we sure it's dead?" then he crashes his axe into the ghoul's neck.
"Now we are... Easier to get the key too..." he shrugs, but doesn't offer to take the key. How would he know if it's the right key or not!?
"I'm fine waiting, by the way..." he adds, peering at the dark tunnels.
Vrindel-Bear huffs a bit, sinks his claws into some nearby wood, and bites something hard before shifting back to Vrindel Trollkin.
"Dang it. Didn't get to wrestle anything".
The Druid walks over to the corpse, pulls off the amulet (Not gently I might add), then compares it to the piece he gathered before. While there he sees if the Ghoul possessed anything else interesting.
The amulet slips easily past the neck of the dead ghoul. Giving it a close examination, Vrindel can see that it is a perfect match for the other half of the 'key' to the lock within the willow.
While the druid and Trevor gather the amulet, Scramsax and Ibrox carefully search the small unliving area. The bones appear to be mostly smaller cavern animals or dwellers but with the occasional human or other humanoid bone mixed in.
Among the shelves are a variety of minor trinkets and personal items. A bone necklace, a piece of quartz cut in a skull shape, five gold coins stamped with the head of a clearly undead creature and the back stamped with a skull, a pouch of soft, yellow mushrooms, and a leather-bound journal.
The first few pages of the journal appear to be a ledger of goods traded. The rest looks to be some sort of log. All of it is written in Darakhul or Undercommon in a precise, clear hand.
During his explorations, the halfling also discovers a large supply of coal kept behind the platform along with a shovel, bucket, and small boiler door with a round needle gauge marked with thick yellow and green lines. Currently the needle sits just above the beginning of the yellow area.
The log is made up of mostly short, simple notes. Such as 'Took delivery, no incidents.' or 'Meet the regular caravan, all goods were transferred safely and secured per regulation.'
There might be something of further interest but it will take time to read through the entire series of logs.
After the gnome finishes this ritual, he at first doesn't notice any source of arcane interest, but then a small flicker appears tucked in a nook near the tunnel arch. Examining the small area closer, he discovers a small brass bell hanging on a hook that carries the tell-tale glow of arcane energy. The magic is clearly sympathetic in nature meaning it is somehow associated with some other item or items and has a mild divination aura. "This brass bell is magical and tied to another magic. I'd need another 10 minutes to Identify it."
Picking up the ledger, the gnome concludes after an initial examination, "The latest entries contain notes for several casks of something called Dawns Sweet Ale along with 8 slaves and at least two dozen items simply called 'feeders.' It's made up of mostly short, simple notes, such as 'Took delivery, no incidents.' or 'Meet the regular caravan, all goods were transferred safely and secured per regulation.' There might be something of further interest but it will take time to read through the entire series of logs." He offers to anyone else to peruse. Otherwise, he tucks it in his pack.
"After we go save the QueenBee and break one of my curses, we need to discuss what to do about this hole. It's obviously connects to the Darakhul Empire of Ghouls." While he lets people discuss that, the gnome investigates the boiler closer trying to understand the difference between the yellow and green states.
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Aterro didn't feel like talking.
Never the most loose-lipped, even in the best of times, that an agent of The Enemy had been let loose here chilled him to the bone. It was a reminder of why he was here...why he was out in the hinterland, instead of in the bosom of his homeland. While he whiled away here, protecting the small flame of civilization that still fought for survival, the undead conqueror still squat upon the remains of its latest kill.
He wondered how the royal family was. If there was any movement on their diplomatic front.
Or was this it? With a new war in the South, did the undead foe lose interest in a fresh push North to complete the meal, and now there was little to do but keep the Reavers in check and maintain the health of...whatever remained?
Would this be the new normal? Would a relative stability settle upon the changed land until, many years from now, some political tide swept even these new borders into the dustbin of history?
Such thoughts bothered the WarCleric. He considered himself quite good at recognizing the threat before him, and laying it low, with either spell or weapon. But attempting to lay grasp upon the Big Picture gave him a feeling of...impotency. And it was not to his liking.
As the gnome gave voice to some plan for the immediate future, he finally broke from his reverie.
"We should travel the tunnel and see where it goes. It can not go for too long--many deliveries were made. But wherever it travels, it could give us clues as to what is transpiring here.
If we deem it not worthy of our time, we can always set fire to braceboards and do enough damage to retard any rebuilding."
He would admit to a certain desire to see if it did indeed lead into the Darakhul Empire...and gave him a target on which to vent his rage.
Vrindel stares at the War Priests words in astonishment, and shakes his head.
"I am going to release the dying bee queen right now". He stuffs the remaining piece of the key into his pack. "You can all choose whatever crusade you wish, but I see someone I can help immediately and choose to do so. I don't know if that bell is somehow part of this, but I would greatly appreciate someone accompany me that might be able to use it".
"Ibrox. Have you been able to figure out how that coal fed contraption works"? And can you send the platform back to the chamber?
Investigation(Untrained):
Trevor is similarly uneasy with Ibrox's revelations: "Take the time you need to identify the bell, Ibrox... It sounds as though this ghoul was no mad creature, but a dark, dark and cunning agent of the Empire... We should take enough time here to figure out what is going on with this place before moving on. There's a reason a boiler is needed down there. We saw the ghoul climb, it didn't need such a contraption only for comfort. I fear these tunnels reach far, and deep."
For him, any blow at the ghouls was a step towards his beloved home country's freedom.
"Alright, yeah let's try the key. But if I remember right...wasn't it magical in nature? That might mean its more than just inserting tab A into slot B." he gazes around, thinking "You know some of this crap could be spell components: a necklace of seven tiny bones, a quartz crystal carved in the shape of a skull, a yellow speckled mushroom...I'm no sorcerer, but sounds like spell components to me. Better take everything, just to be safe. Don't want to waste coal, after all." he grins, filling a little sack with all the garbage. "Oh right, we'll need more coal for getting back down here later. We should probably take a bag up with us for the surface broiler, eh?"
He pauses a moment "By the way, I hate to be a Sad Slayer, but I feel like trash. There's a thrice-damned chill deep in me bones since I smoked the hag's herb...I'm pretty sure its a virus. Any of you know what cures that?" he asks.
Trevor nods as Scramsax picks up the likely components. He adds: "I too feel pretty drained... But regardless, I think we need to figure out if we want to explore this place further now, while we're here, or go back up and use the key first. I would prefer to spend a bit more time here, but I don't want to sound adamant."
"You saw that the bee queen was barely holding on, and you want to look around for treasure first! You are certainly following in Aterro's footsteps. I am going up and try to rescue the queen before she dies. You can all stay here and sod off"!
Vrindel is truly angry for the first time since he has met the group, and climbs on the platform, pushing the lever.
Trevor takes in Vrindel's comment and replies: "You are right. This can wait, compared to what is going on upstairs. Let's go then!"
And he makes sure everyone goes back to the lift.
Scram hustles to grab all the 'important spell components' and some extra coal before the lift leaves without him.
Eventually everyone either joins or follows Vrindel back up to the top of the pit. From there it is easy enough to operate the second platform which actually ends up being part of the old ruined stable floor. Multiple scuff marks and tracks indicate where many large barrels have been moved on and off the platform, indicating several 'deliveries' from the bees or perhaps others.
The old stable itself, stinks of filth and rot and even though the bright sun shines just beyond the doorway, little of the warmth and light actually penetrate the dark gloom of the old building. The source of the stench is a rusty iron cage, the door now hanging open. Inside the cage is a nest of filthy, moldy blankets, and the partially eaten remains of a goblin, dwarf, and two humans. A half-barrel filled with stagnant water slowly drips into a puddle at one end of the cage.
The rest of the stable is empty, containing little but a few old, long rotten, bales of straw and some rotted and rusty bits of tack and harness of no value now.
Trevor gives the dead a silent prayer then suggests, after looking at Vriindel: "So much death... Once we have dealt with this key and freed the bee queen, I'd like to give all these remains proper send off..."
He then continues to move briskly towards the lock, eager to see if it would work.
"I agree".
The gnome couldn't figure out how the boiler worked. And, then Vrindel's morals decided that the identification of the magical brass bell could wait. He hopped back in the lift when the trollkin asserted leadership of the crew. He wouldn't argue against removing his curse as soon as possible.
Up in the stable, he continues to concentrate on Detecting Magic.
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As Vrindel approached the keyhole, Scram bowed and addressed the Queen "Wasp up? Don't bee afraid, hive got good news. We were quite buzy under the tavern. Just let my friend comb on over there with the key, and don't let me drone on."
He took out some weed and a tinder brand out of habit to light a pipe and reflect on his wordplay, but remembered sadly again how he so carelessly chucked his old pipe into the sea. The memory stung.
After an awkward pause "...Royal Jelly..."
Trevor glares at Scramsax and slaps him forward: "I's not hon- It's not funny! She's in pain! Let's try the key instead..."
As you emerge into the stables, your senses are assaulted by the smell causing your eyes to water and blink for several seconds before you can get them back under control. When you do you manage to catch a glimpse of an aura of magic piled in the smelly, rotted, and almost certainly fouled blankets piled in the corner of the cage.
You all gather around the back side of the tree where you found the 'keyhole.' The bee queen is lost in the delirium of some nightmare and doesn't really hear the halflings pun-filled address. (To most observers it is unclear whether the bee queen or the halfling is the more fortunate for her incapacitated state.)
Vrindel holds the two, now connected, pieces together and the shape of the combined key seems to perfectly match the hole in the tree. In fact as he holds it closer, the druid can't help but feel a perceptible tug from the key, like iron drawn toward a magnet. Releasing his hold on the key, the object simply guides itself into place with a soft click.
A heartbeat later bark rapidly grows across and over the top of the key, leaving no trace of lock, key, or anything except an oddly star and crescent shaped bit of bark.
Seconds pass. A robin sings in the distance while the queen continues to moan softly, still locked within whatever nightmare feeding on her soul. A gentle breeze drifts through the vale stirring leaf, thistle, and the hair upon heads. Still nothing happens...until a small crack appears at the base of the massive tree.
With a loud pops and crackles, the hairline fracture runs further up the trunk then arcs across and down to form an archway perfectly centered upon the spot where the key was placed. The tangy, sweet smell of sap fills the air as a soft golden glow emerges from the arching crack in the wood. The glow grows brighter and brighter and brighter until everyone is forced to shade their eyes or turn away. With a final brilliant burst, the light fades.
Blinking eyes look back at the tree to find an open archway filled with a glowing, swirling, golden fog that never leaves the bounds of the arch.
"Well that is interesting. Anybody have any idea what that might represent. I guess we have to go in anyway don't we"?
"Maybe Red can send his little helper through first...you know, to make sure its safe." motioning to Ibrox' familiar.
Back in the stable, the gnome asks the halfling, "Scramsacks, can I borrow your ten foot pole? There appears like something magical under the filth in that giant goblin's cage. I don't want to get too close."
=========================
Replying to the halfling, "Safe? That hasn't stopped you before from heading into an area looking for loot, Stache."
"Besides, we know for a fact that the only way to break the witch's curse is down that hole. So, if you're leading, down you go." Red says with a genuine cheerful smile.
He looks unsure, reflexively holding it closer to his body for a moment "...alright, yeah. *kisses the pole* I'll see you soon, Judith." before handing it over.
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"Meh, alright." Scramsax walks into the portal.
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Poking and prodding into the filthy pile of rags and...other stuff...Ibrox eventually uncovers a small metallic rod. Thick as the gnome's small finger and long as his arm. He's able to carefully drag the thing free of the filth, but not before getting the end of the folding pole completely covered in blood, gore, and Mog-muck.
The rod itself seems to slough off the slime with the ease of shedding an unwanted skin. Once in the bright light of day, Ibrox can see the fine gold-filled and interwoven lines that spiral up and down the silver rod. The end is tipped with a purple garnet cut into a perfect cone, that has a soft, feint inner glow.
Scramsax steps into the portal, his voice cut off mid-word as he disappears into the roiling and billowing arch of golden fog.
A soft light emanates from a variety of mushrooms and fungi that grow on roots and soil. Some glow yellow, others purple, still others a sickly green or burnt orange. A narrow path exits the chamber spiraling down and lined by the great thick roots thick more of the glowing fungi.
Behind you stands the archway with its billowing fog, but not a sound or single beam of light seems to pass from the other side.
After getting the magic item visible and closer, the gnome starts using magic Prestidigitation to clean it and the approach to retrieve it. Even with magic, it takes several castings on the Mog-muck to make a gnome-sized trail to collect. Fortunately, the magic rod itself shed dirt and grime by itself. He tucks it into his pack to Identify later.
After the halfling disappears in the fog, the gnome offers, "Uh, guys. Guys. If it's not obvious, that tree, archway, stones encircling the tree and fog are totally magical. Even, the Queen Bee radiates some innate magic."
"Someone should follow the halfling soon."
"What? Huh? He went in already. Vrindel spins around amazed that he lost track of the Halfling. This reinforces why I like to live alone in the woods. Everyone is so impulsive".
The big Trollkin takes a deep breath, casts barkskin on himself, and enters the portal.
Trevor is amazed at the way the gate opened. He's never witnessed such wonders before, just horrors really.
Then he realizes Vrindel passed him and he blinks then hurries down behind the druid.
Moving a bit closer to the pool, Scramsax can see that it is actually that and not a simple puddle. Instead, stones have been laid out to create a fungus encrusted pool. As the halfling peers closer at the opaque, dark pool he notices a slightly crimson color to the surface and a metallic smell, that is all too familiar.
At that same moment, Vrindel followed by Trevor and Aterro enter the cavern. The three each glancing around at the oddly lit chamber with its various phosphorescent lights coloring the walls, floor, ceiling and each other.
The trollkin's eyes follow the great roots as they reach down from the rock and soil above. The size of the thick twisting roots speaking to their age. Trevor notices the smaller, soft, hair-like tendrils that hang from the ceiling or dangle in great clumps along the wall. And how those in the center of the chamber feed the dark, black pool next to Scramsax with some sort of liquid. The stacatto plip plop plip, the only sound except for your own breathing.
Aterro immediately feels the warm damp air as sweat quickly covers his forehead and those of the others. Using the soft light emanating from the diverse range of mushrooms and fungi that grow on roots and soil, he's able to see the narrow path exiting the chamber. A spiraling tunnel lined by more roots and fungi emitting a rainbow of colors.
Vrindel, Trevor and Aterro all seem to take the gnome's words about following the halfling to heart and quickly move past him and through the gate. Suddenly, and perhaps unexpectedly Ibrox finds himself completely alone within the magic filled stone circle. He eyes glancing frantically back and forth between tree, arch, and stones.
"I thought it was a toilet at first but nope, pure blood." he explains, still looking at the pool. "Guess its feedin' the mushrooms or sommat."
Scram compares the dried yellow ones he took from under the lift with those growing here.
"There's a tunnel going down..." Trevor says, stating the obvious, trying to stay as far away from everything as possible.
"Wait...is this Queen Bee's blood you think? Its coming through the roots...are we inside or under the tree maybe?"
"Bees bleed?" is all Trevor can contributes.
"There's a tunnel going down here..." he repeats flatly.
The gnome looked around after Aterro stepped into the magical fog. "Wow. They listened to me. Huh." He checks the buttons and laces of his pack and pets Rikki who is curled around his neck on top of his pack. Then, follows his companions to go break the curse.
'Oh, wow. Wonder what's going on down here." The gnome remarks when he arrives into the magical cavern. The gnome carefully plucks some of rainbow-color emitting fungi from its perch and says, "I've never seen anything like this."
"Tunnel? Yes, the witch said we'd have to go underground to break the curse."
"Trevor, of course bees have blood." Scram lies, honestly having no clue. The halfling dips a pinky in the blood pool and gives it a taste. Bee blood should be sweet, after all.
Vrindel looks at Scramsax with wonder. "Do you have to taste or smoke everything we come across? It's a wonder you haven't been poisoned to death".
Vrindel turns to lead the way into the tunnel, now that everyone is here.
"Keep your wits about you. Who knows what waits down here".
Perception