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Company of Chaos - All Around Golarion
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<blockquote data-quote="Lwaxy" data-source="post: 5779124" data-attributes="member: 53286"><p>Bjön's Pathfinder Diary</p><p></p><p>2nd of Neth</p><p></p><p>Isle of Dread, marching east on the trail of the Razmirans</p><p></p><p></p><p>After the encounter with the twisted lizardfolk, Samin tried to explain what he had done. He seemed to be unsure as to where his sudden luck in negotiations came from. Brenn said he had noticed magic around him similar to that of a domination spell. This confused Samin even more, and he assured us he knew nothing of such magic. The best he can do is charm someone, and it only works, as he says, when he is in the right mood. Magic works differently for him than for most people. It would be a good idea to present him to a group of experienced mages eventually, to help find out what is going on with him.</p><p></p><p>He proved his weird skill once more, after which I asked him to please not do it again. He says he can't control it though, and I am inclined to believe him. The encounter he displayed his strange ability again was curious. We ran into a former Pathfinder who seems to be the last survivor of his team. Dusan Dremlock, a deranged ranger – Zaza laughed at that expression for a good hour. </p><p></p><p>From what we could gather, he is here for almost 10 years, an awful long time. Anyone would have lost their mind all alone in this place. He could barely talk and seemed to have a hard time finding the words for some things. Apparently, he used to talk to himself until he found it just attracted unwanted attention. Here is what he told us, in his own words: </p><p></p><p> “Venture-Captain Tree Roots said we should come to… island to island and then we left the city and swam north, keeping abreast of each other to fend off fish and then we swam and swam and we swam for years and came here to the island and we went inside the island and saw its heart and it was black and we knew it was black and we came out and we were black and then the blackness consumed them, ate them alive, ate me alive, and then we were all dead all dead all dead and I was dead and they were dead, and they were dead and I wasn’t dead—do you see? I was alive! I was alive and they were dead and then I lived here and I lived in a tree and a cave and in the ruins and I saw, I saw, I saw things, and then the men in masks came and they fought the lizards and many died on both sides, many died, oh yes, many died and they did not get back up they were not dead like me and they headed to the doors, to the many doors by the river, the many doors where I slept once when the storms reached down and grabbed me. They are there now, they try to open the doors come with me, yes, come come come with me. I can show you where they are.”</p><p></p><p>Those were his precise words. The ramblings of a lost soul, yet there is definitely some truth in there. What does he mean with dead, and not dead? Is he some sort of undead? He doesn't seem to be, but then, anything seems possible in this place. </p><p></p><p>When he smiled at us with his missing teeth, he looked somewhat innocent, but when he pointed east and said he'd take us to the men in the masks, he looked rather devious. As I gathered, he tried to talk to the cultists, but they tried to kill him. That is when he got shot with an arrow which is still in his right leg. It is infected and smelly but he seems not to notice. Is this the first time he got seriously wounded? Does he not know he will die if he does not take care of it?</p><p></p><p>He wants to help us if we take him with us when we leave. I think that is something we would have done anyway. Yet, I am suspicious about him. He seems not to be a safe person to have around, and the smell he emits is unbelievable. He smears himself with all sort of things, from his own waste to the stinky soil of the swamps. He resisted any attempts at cleaning him up, claiming the stink is what kept him alive all the years. This makes no sense, and what is worse, he tries to make us cover ourselves in stink as well. None of us will comply, especially not Zaza who has a really weak stomach and can't even stand the sight of the guy. </p><p></p><p>Dusan calls Xin-Grafar, the place we are looking for, the City of Golden Death. I am sure it is a good description of it. My hope is that the cultists get taken care of without our help, but my experience up to know makes me believe this will not be so. </p><p></p><p>We have been led to the cave this unfortunate survivor has lived in for some time now. It smells as bad as he does. He took some food from there in a half rotten backpack and strapped on a broken sword. Our offers for better equipment were denied as well as the offer to help with his wound. </p><p></p><p>Brenn went deeper into the cave to check it out, likely hoping for any journal or other information on what happened to the expedition so long ago. When he was out of sight for a few minutes, the twisted wolves that had followed us for so long finally attacked. It seems to be true that he can hold the wildlife off. We managed to defeat all 4 of them. Good that is was a small pack, though. Cajun used alchemist's fire on them, which was a great help. I am not too comfortable with alchemical things, but in the right hands, it truly makes a difference. </p><p></p><p>The ramblings of Dusan can get on everyone's nerves, but he helped us to avoid some poison plants and also warned us about the deadly mists from the Whispering Lake. I would have missed the danger, and it seems the others didn't think about it either. The lunatic is useful to have around for now. </p><p></p><p>The weather has taken a turn for the worse. The relentless storms from the mountains so aptly called The 3 Furies has picked up; and it can even topple over a whole pack of these wolf-like mutations still following us at a distance. It blew them all around, and would Brenn not have used some rooting spell on all of us, we would have been blown away, too. There was only one of those very bad blasts yet, but I have a feeling there are more to come. If that happens, I only hope Brenn has enough of those spells available to prevent us from being gone with the wind. </p><p></p><p>We didn't gain any ground. The trail of the cultists twisted and turned a bit, and we found is heading more to the north, between what is called the Whitewood and Shadow's heart, two forests likely aptly named. I am happy enough we do not have to go in there. </p><p></p><p>The lizardfolk are following us. Both the hawk and the wolf make them out periodically. Right now, the hawk can't fly in the storms and has to be carried by Samin, which causes problems with the young man's health. This is the first I ever saw a wizard being allergic to his own familiar. He can't stop sneezing, and his eyes water so badly he can barely see. Cajun is constructing a shoulder pad for himself right now, so he can carry Wilbur in his friend's place. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>The entrance to Xin-Grafar finally stood ahead. Two enormous stone doors, each thirty feet high and fifteen feet wide, covered in carved, vertical wavy lines, with the left-hand door standing open, a complex internal mechanism of worked stone and metal clockwork gears visible along the door’s side about halfway up. The doors wee recessed about ten feet into the side of a large, grass-covered hill and tilt slightly inward. A firepit smoldered beside the right-hand door, tiny tendrils of smoke still curling skyward from its coals.</p><p></p><p>Exhausted and dirty and scratched up, the party stared at the entrance. It was early afternoon, and the day had been hell. Storms had almost blown them away, they had had to rescue Bjön from a quicksand hole, the negative energy storm had hit close to Cajun and Dadawin and made the use of all the healing potions necessary plus exhausted Mook's healing magic. Then a tall branch had hit Cajun just before the storms had finally relented. Luckily, his new armor had protected him for the most part. Samin had used up all of his magic to provide flight over another quicksand hole – the way around would have taken hours – and Brenn had called lightning down on one of the lizardfolk who, maybe to make a name for himself or to drive a point home, had tried to kidnap him. </p><p></p><p>Additionally, whatever magic Brenn had used to hold off wildlife had run out just a few hours ago. More wolves had come at them and a creature vaguely resembling a badger. The latter managed to bite Kronk in the tail, but luckily, this did not have any poisenous effect. Right now, everyone was too drained to be happy to arrive. </p><p></p><p>Despite his exhaustion, Edawon immediately went to check out the cultist camp. Two more graves were nearby. The halfling shook his head. "No more than a dozen of them left, I reckon," he said wearily. "Still more than enough to be concerned about."</p><p></p><p>"We are all too tired. We need to rest." Cajun voiced the obvious. "It does not matter how early or late it is in the day, but we can't go on like this." </p><p></p><p>"Is this city underground?" Zaza wondered, staring at the gates and the hill. There was a looming dark behind the doors. </p><p></p><p>"Underground, yes, all dark place, dark as in no light, nono, no light," Dusan chuckled. "Never go in there, I don't, not anymore, oh no. Can't find stinky things in there either. But the masked ones, they are gone in, you see? Must follow, you, go hurry."</p><p></p><p>Mook sighed. "W-we a-are n-not g-going i-in t-there w-without r-rest." Her stutter was worse when tired. </p><p></p><p>"Ah, maybe we should not stay out in the open..." Samin begun and blushed when everyone stared at him. "It is just... well, maybe behind the gates it is safer? The cultists must have either triggered or disarmed any traps, no?"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah, and sometimes traps reset themselves," Zaza groaned. "Remember when we found that cave of the gold digger when we were barely old enough for school? Anf that was a harmless trap, all in all." </p><p></p><p>Bjön considered Zaza for a long moment. "Would you be able to find such traps?"</p><p></p><p>The halfling hesitated. "It is not like I've had any experience beyond that cave, and the few books I could read about adventures," she explained. "And the stories of that one group of adventurers - fortune makers, as they called themselves - coming through Kassen some time ago. But I can find the obvious, and I know that just because someone else came through fine it does not mean the next group will."</p><p></p><p>"We are staying out here, then," the paladin decided. Brenn looked like he was about to say something, but then decided otherwise. He was older than the dwarf, which sometimes made him try to take on the leadership role in the group, but by now he was beginning to understand that not only did the rest of the group trust Bjön, but the paladin was beginning to get a grasp on leadership. </p><p></p><p>Asides from the howling of twisted wolves, nothing happened for the rest of the day and the night. Their meal was as simple as always – they didn't dare to touch anything the deranged Pathfinder had. They would soon be hard pressed for water, though, as the few sources they had come upon could not be used without purifying, and there was no one to do that here. </p><p></p><p>Before the dim sun came up, they had their usual breakfast and went on preparing for the day. Samin looked grim, probably worried about his spell selection and his spontaneous spells. They knew he had tried to learn a few new spells from a spellbook found with the dead cultists, but how effective he had been, no one had dared to ask. </p><p></p><p>Without the negative energy storms, temperature had dropped considerably, making them feel the onset of winter. It was curious that the unnatural storms should have the effect of keeping the cold out, but no one was complaining. It was better to be cold than live in fear of those lightning strikes and gusts of wind. </p><p></p><p>Their mad guide did not dare to come inside, saying he had brought them here and would wait outside until they came out, dead or alive. Shaking their heads, they continued their journey. </p><p></p><p>Behind the gates they carefully entered proved to be a seemingly endless, winding tunnel leading downwards. There were no more dead cultists, no traps and no warnings – it simply seemed to be the road to a normal city. This was likely misleading, so no one dared to let their guard down and they advanced slowly. Finally, after hours of threading carefully and looking out for surprises, the long, sloped tunnel leading down to the city suddenly opened into a large rectangular room. The floor here was sand and showed signs of recent foot traffic. The walls were all painted in enormous murals that depict a city in its prime. The south wall showed hundreds of men and women in a marketplace, trading everything from fruit and livestock to construction materials such as brick and wood. The north wall depicted row upon row of unarmed, uniformed men standing large in the foreground and growing smaller as their ranks disappear over the horizon toward the far right of the painting - a horizon over which an enormous golden sun was rising. The east wall was a huge map that portrayed a city constructed of three concentric circles and divided by canals of pure, crystal-clear water that flows from the city’s innermost ring. Below this map someone had scrawled numerous notes and mathematical calculations in charcoal. Finally, the west wall depicted a leader of some sort, crowned by a golden sun and speaking before a huge crowd of people wearing white shawls and golden togas.</p><p></p><p>"So, we are finally here," Brenn said. </p><p></p><p>Zaza was about to make a snide remark at the sorcerer for stating the obvious – she didn't like the man at all – when Bjön took out his journal and began to copy the map as best as he could. "Best to use the resources offered," he commented. "We can wait for a moment longer before we enter." </p><p></p><p>There was no arguing the logic of that, so the others decided to rest for a moment. Samin took the time to decipher the charcoal scribbles. "It speaks of the city being made into what it is now, from a city originally called Kestrillon," he read. It was hard to read the words, while they were in Common, the writer had a bad handwriting. "Something about a Jewel of Everlasting Gold, and fire, floods, and molten gold. And those calculations..."</p><p></p><p>Bjön lifted his head from his copying work. "Can you identify what they mean?" </p><p></p><p>After a long moment, Samin nodded. "It calculates the amount of gold needed to flood the city with molten gold to a height of 40 ft and how long it takes to do so. Supposedly, it takes 73 hours and 20 minutes after the gates have been opened to flood the first two rings." Samin glanced at the map. "And it takes 25 hours to drain. Why would anyone want to flood a city with molten gold? Oh and there is a note saying that this magic jewel can only start but not reverse the process." </p><p></p><p>"After the g-gates have been o-opened?" Mook piped in. "B-but the c-cultists have a-already opened it!"</p><p></p><p>Edawon checked the ground for the cultist's traces again. "They didn't bother to look at the map or the notes, they just went in. Maybe they know about this, though, their leader having been here before."</p><p></p><p>"Can we know how long ago they have entered?" Brenn asked in a tense voice. </p><p></p><p>"No, sorry," Edawon shook his head. He looked even smaller than usual admitting this. "But they were not much ahead of us anymore when we arrived at the camp outside, maybe 6 or 7 hours."</p><p></p><p>"I'm almost done," Bjön mumbled. </p><p></p><p>A few minutes later, the party went on. A large doorway passed from the room of murals into the city proper. A lightly glowing green fluorescence emanated from the cavern roof above, illuminating a once-great city now reduced to ash and rubble but whose ruins were coated entirely in gold. A large, covered bridge across a canal glowed white-hot and emits a searing, golden light. In the center of the bridge stood a man-shaped statue covered in fine gold plating, its carved face eerily human-like.</p><p></p><p>"A construct," Samin recognized. "Likely a mindless guard."</p><p></p><p>"And there were others," Cajun pointed. The inside of the bridge was visible enough to note two piles of melted gold and other metals, about the volume of the statue they were facing. "Guess the Razmirans took care of them." </p><p></p><p>"Too bad they didn't get them all," Kronk mused. "But they are obviously defeatable."</p><p></p><p>"How does one defeat a gold statue?" Zaza wanted to know. </p><p></p><p>"Maybe we don't have to," Samin pondered. "We have 3 potions of invisibility, an oil of invisibility, a potion of gaseous form and I can fly and have up to 3 of you flying as well. That would take up much of the magic I do not have to prepare though."</p><p></p><p>"That l-leaves out D-dadawin, he w-wouldn't know how to fly and m-making him invisible s-pooks him," Mook pointed out. "We tried that a y-year or s-so ago."</p><p></p><p>"Ah, yeah about that... maybe we should have the wolf wait here?" Bjön suggested. </p><p></p><p>"W-why? H-he is in n-no more d-danger than the r-reest of us," Mook complained. "A-and he might be m-more in danger out h-here."</p><p></p><p>Bjön didn't want to point out the difficulty a canine could create in climbing up walls and other situations, but he had to admit Dadawin might also be helpful. "Could Mook carry him while flying?" </p><p></p><p>"No, she would not be able to carry more than she usually could, but Cajun or you probably could. Not sure if you would be able to carry Dadawin around normally." </p><p></p><p>Cajun didn't hesitate and grabbed the wolf, lifting him up without difficulty. "I'd not be able to carry him far, but over the bridge, sure." </p><p></p><p>Dadawin whined and protested, and Mook had to calm him down. Bjön thought for a moment, then he nodded. "Fine, the fight would probably take too much time anyway. But to save a potion, and because we might need to use gaseous form later, I'll carry Zaza, she is lightest." The paladin had done so for a short distance before, and in the storm. "No need to waste precious magic if we do not have to."</p><p></p><p>"And maybe Brenn can carry me?" Kronk suggested. He was, after all, not that heavy either.</p><p></p><p>"W-while at it, I'm n-not heavy either, so y-you could c-carry me," Mook pointed at Samin. "S-saves us a-another p-potion."</p><p></p><p>Samin seemed to calculate her weight and his strength. He wasn't that weak, and had carried her here and there before. It would work for just over the bridge, so he nodded. </p><p></p><p>"Aw, no one to carry me," Edawon mocked. "At least I carry my own weight." He chuckled at his own joke, but it sounded like he was trying to mask his fear. He was bulkier than any of the other small people in the group so carrying him would not have been so easy for anyone. </p><p></p><p>Samin handed Edawon one of the invisibility potions. "We'll fly over first. Right over the bridge. Then you can come follow us. You'll see where we land and can probably find us quicker."</p><p></p><p>"Right," Edawon mumbled. "Hurry up."</p><p></p><p>The first ring of the city was elevated compared to the entrance, and the other two rings elevated in turn, with the gold flow staying at the lowest level. While his companions flew over and up to the other side – he noticed Samin struggling a bit – Edawon pondered all the wealth in this place. Was all the gold even real? What he could do with it if he had access to it. Fighting slavery would be so much easier... </p><p></p><p>A call from the other side woke him from his musings. Cajun was shouting for him to hurry up. The construct had not noticed or cared about them. Wilbur was circling high over the city already to watch out for problems. The halfling nodded to himself and drank the potion. As he disappeared from sight, he made haste to cross the bridge, carefully avoiding the statue and the rubble inside. He still made a trail and caused some dust to raise, but the statue didn't care for either. "I'm here," he whispered as he arrived where the others where.</p><p></p><p>"Don't be so dramatic," Zaza chuckled. "Wow, I can't believe we are inside. Really inside a legendary city!"</p><p></p><p>Bjön was staring at the map, seemingly oblivious to the still invisible halfling's arrival or Zaza's enthusiasm. "I wish we could wait a day and renew your spell power, so we could fly in over the molten gold canal to the inner city, if you could prepare an additional spell. But with the gold flood probably to come – if the mechanism still works, we will not have time for that, thus need to make it through the city."</p><p></p><p>Cajun scratched his head. "Will going through the city really be quicker? The cultists are ahead if us and probably left some nasty surprises, as they are expecting at least the lizardfolk after them."</p><p></p><p>"Talking of those – where are they? I thought I heard them following us into the tunnel." Brenn looked back at the city entrance, but nothing moved over there.</p><p></p><p>"We'll worry about that later. Right now, we need to decide how to proceed." Bjön was already walking towards the first intersection, nose still in his notes. </p><p></p><p>"Stop!" </p><p></p><p>"Halt it there!"</p><p></p><p>Zaza and Samin shouted at the same time. Alarmed, the paladin looked about, hand to his axe, but he could not see anything out of the ordinary. "What..?" he started. </p><p></p><p>"The intersection," Zaza said with an accusing frown. </p><p></p><p>"The circle," Samin pointed at the same time to the same place. </p><p></p><p>Looking down, Bjön could see it. "Yeeaaah..." he admitted, sounding sheepish. The runes in a circle around the intersection definitely looked suspicious. "I can see the point. Literally." </p><p></p><p>"We better go around that one, then," Brenn added in a mocking voice and grinned at the dwarf. Bjön sighed. That had not helped for him to establish a leadership role.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lwaxy, post: 5779124, member: 53286"] Bjön's Pathfinder Diary 2nd of Neth Isle of Dread, marching east on the trail of the Razmirans After the encounter with the twisted lizardfolk, Samin tried to explain what he had done. He seemed to be unsure as to where his sudden luck in negotiations came from. Brenn said he had noticed magic around him similar to that of a domination spell. This confused Samin even more, and he assured us he knew nothing of such magic. The best he can do is charm someone, and it only works, as he says, when he is in the right mood. Magic works differently for him than for most people. It would be a good idea to present him to a group of experienced mages eventually, to help find out what is going on with him. He proved his weird skill once more, after which I asked him to please not do it again. He says he can't control it though, and I am inclined to believe him. The encounter he displayed his strange ability again was curious. We ran into a former Pathfinder who seems to be the last survivor of his team. Dusan Dremlock, a deranged ranger – Zaza laughed at that expression for a good hour. From what we could gather, he is here for almost 10 years, an awful long time. Anyone would have lost their mind all alone in this place. He could barely talk and seemed to have a hard time finding the words for some things. Apparently, he used to talk to himself until he found it just attracted unwanted attention. Here is what he told us, in his own words: “Venture-Captain Tree Roots said we should come to… island to island and then we left the city and swam north, keeping abreast of each other to fend off fish and then we swam and swam and we swam for years and came here to the island and we went inside the island and saw its heart and it was black and we knew it was black and we came out and we were black and then the blackness consumed them, ate them alive, ate me alive, and then we were all dead all dead all dead and I was dead and they were dead, and they were dead and I wasn’t dead—do you see? I was alive! I was alive and they were dead and then I lived here and I lived in a tree and a cave and in the ruins and I saw, I saw, I saw things, and then the men in masks came and they fought the lizards and many died on both sides, many died, oh yes, many died and they did not get back up they were not dead like me and they headed to the doors, to the many doors by the river, the many doors where I slept once when the storms reached down and grabbed me. They are there now, they try to open the doors come with me, yes, come come come with me. I can show you where they are.” Those were his precise words. The ramblings of a lost soul, yet there is definitely some truth in there. What does he mean with dead, and not dead? Is he some sort of undead? He doesn't seem to be, but then, anything seems possible in this place. When he smiled at us with his missing teeth, he looked somewhat innocent, but when he pointed east and said he'd take us to the men in the masks, he looked rather devious. As I gathered, he tried to talk to the cultists, but they tried to kill him. That is when he got shot with an arrow which is still in his right leg. It is infected and smelly but he seems not to notice. Is this the first time he got seriously wounded? Does he not know he will die if he does not take care of it? He wants to help us if we take him with us when we leave. I think that is something we would have done anyway. Yet, I am suspicious about him. He seems not to be a safe person to have around, and the smell he emits is unbelievable. He smears himself with all sort of things, from his own waste to the stinky soil of the swamps. He resisted any attempts at cleaning him up, claiming the stink is what kept him alive all the years. This makes no sense, and what is worse, he tries to make us cover ourselves in stink as well. None of us will comply, especially not Zaza who has a really weak stomach and can't even stand the sight of the guy. Dusan calls Xin-Grafar, the place we are looking for, the City of Golden Death. I am sure it is a good description of it. My hope is that the cultists get taken care of without our help, but my experience up to know makes me believe this will not be so. We have been led to the cave this unfortunate survivor has lived in for some time now. It smells as bad as he does. He took some food from there in a half rotten backpack and strapped on a broken sword. Our offers for better equipment were denied as well as the offer to help with his wound. Brenn went deeper into the cave to check it out, likely hoping for any journal or other information on what happened to the expedition so long ago. When he was out of sight for a few minutes, the twisted wolves that had followed us for so long finally attacked. It seems to be true that he can hold the wildlife off. We managed to defeat all 4 of them. Good that is was a small pack, though. Cajun used alchemist's fire on them, which was a great help. I am not too comfortable with alchemical things, but in the right hands, it truly makes a difference. The ramblings of Dusan can get on everyone's nerves, but he helped us to avoid some poison plants and also warned us about the deadly mists from the Whispering Lake. I would have missed the danger, and it seems the others didn't think about it either. The lunatic is useful to have around for now. The weather has taken a turn for the worse. The relentless storms from the mountains so aptly called The 3 Furies has picked up; and it can even topple over a whole pack of these wolf-like mutations still following us at a distance. It blew them all around, and would Brenn not have used some rooting spell on all of us, we would have been blown away, too. There was only one of those very bad blasts yet, but I have a feeling there are more to come. If that happens, I only hope Brenn has enough of those spells available to prevent us from being gone with the wind. We didn't gain any ground. The trail of the cultists twisted and turned a bit, and we found is heading more to the north, between what is called the Whitewood and Shadow's heart, two forests likely aptly named. I am happy enough we do not have to go in there. The lizardfolk are following us. Both the hawk and the wolf make them out periodically. Right now, the hawk can't fly in the storms and has to be carried by Samin, which causes problems with the young man's health. This is the first I ever saw a wizard being allergic to his own familiar. He can't stop sneezing, and his eyes water so badly he can barely see. Cajun is constructing a shoulder pad for himself right now, so he can carry Wilbur in his friend's place. The entrance to Xin-Grafar finally stood ahead. Two enormous stone doors, each thirty feet high and fifteen feet wide, covered in carved, vertical wavy lines, with the left-hand door standing open, a complex internal mechanism of worked stone and metal clockwork gears visible along the door’s side about halfway up. The doors wee recessed about ten feet into the side of a large, grass-covered hill and tilt slightly inward. A firepit smoldered beside the right-hand door, tiny tendrils of smoke still curling skyward from its coals. Exhausted and dirty and scratched up, the party stared at the entrance. It was early afternoon, and the day had been hell. Storms had almost blown them away, they had had to rescue Bjön from a quicksand hole, the negative energy storm had hit close to Cajun and Dadawin and made the use of all the healing potions necessary plus exhausted Mook's healing magic. Then a tall branch had hit Cajun just before the storms had finally relented. Luckily, his new armor had protected him for the most part. Samin had used up all of his magic to provide flight over another quicksand hole – the way around would have taken hours – and Brenn had called lightning down on one of the lizardfolk who, maybe to make a name for himself or to drive a point home, had tried to kidnap him. Additionally, whatever magic Brenn had used to hold off wildlife had run out just a few hours ago. More wolves had come at them and a creature vaguely resembling a badger. The latter managed to bite Kronk in the tail, but luckily, this did not have any poisenous effect. Right now, everyone was too drained to be happy to arrive. Despite his exhaustion, Edawon immediately went to check out the cultist camp. Two more graves were nearby. The halfling shook his head. "No more than a dozen of them left, I reckon," he said wearily. "Still more than enough to be concerned about." "We are all too tired. We need to rest." Cajun voiced the obvious. "It does not matter how early or late it is in the day, but we can't go on like this." "Is this city underground?" Zaza wondered, staring at the gates and the hill. There was a looming dark behind the doors. "Underground, yes, all dark place, dark as in no light, nono, no light," Dusan chuckled. "Never go in there, I don't, not anymore, oh no. Can't find stinky things in there either. But the masked ones, they are gone in, you see? Must follow, you, go hurry." Mook sighed. "W-we a-are n-not g-going i-in t-there w-without r-rest." Her stutter was worse when tired. "Ah, maybe we should not stay out in the open..." Samin begun and blushed when everyone stared at him. "It is just... well, maybe behind the gates it is safer? The cultists must have either triggered or disarmed any traps, no?" "Yeah, and sometimes traps reset themselves," Zaza groaned. "Remember when we found that cave of the gold digger when we were barely old enough for school? Anf that was a harmless trap, all in all." Bjön considered Zaza for a long moment. "Would you be able to find such traps?" The halfling hesitated. "It is not like I've had any experience beyond that cave, and the few books I could read about adventures," she explained. "And the stories of that one group of adventurers - fortune makers, as they called themselves - coming through Kassen some time ago. But I can find the obvious, and I know that just because someone else came through fine it does not mean the next group will." "We are staying out here, then," the paladin decided. Brenn looked like he was about to say something, but then decided otherwise. He was older than the dwarf, which sometimes made him try to take on the leadership role in the group, but by now he was beginning to understand that not only did the rest of the group trust Bjön, but the paladin was beginning to get a grasp on leadership. Asides from the howling of twisted wolves, nothing happened for the rest of the day and the night. Their meal was as simple as always – they didn't dare to touch anything the deranged Pathfinder had. They would soon be hard pressed for water, though, as the few sources they had come upon could not be used without purifying, and there was no one to do that here. Before the dim sun came up, they had their usual breakfast and went on preparing for the day. Samin looked grim, probably worried about his spell selection and his spontaneous spells. They knew he had tried to learn a few new spells from a spellbook found with the dead cultists, but how effective he had been, no one had dared to ask. Without the negative energy storms, temperature had dropped considerably, making them feel the onset of winter. It was curious that the unnatural storms should have the effect of keeping the cold out, but no one was complaining. It was better to be cold than live in fear of those lightning strikes and gusts of wind. Their mad guide did not dare to come inside, saying he had brought them here and would wait outside until they came out, dead or alive. Shaking their heads, they continued their journey. Behind the gates they carefully entered proved to be a seemingly endless, winding tunnel leading downwards. There were no more dead cultists, no traps and no warnings – it simply seemed to be the road to a normal city. This was likely misleading, so no one dared to let their guard down and they advanced slowly. Finally, after hours of threading carefully and looking out for surprises, the long, sloped tunnel leading down to the city suddenly opened into a large rectangular room. The floor here was sand and showed signs of recent foot traffic. The walls were all painted in enormous murals that depict a city in its prime. The south wall showed hundreds of men and women in a marketplace, trading everything from fruit and livestock to construction materials such as brick and wood. The north wall depicted row upon row of unarmed, uniformed men standing large in the foreground and growing smaller as their ranks disappear over the horizon toward the far right of the painting - a horizon over which an enormous golden sun was rising. The east wall was a huge map that portrayed a city constructed of three concentric circles and divided by canals of pure, crystal-clear water that flows from the city’s innermost ring. Below this map someone had scrawled numerous notes and mathematical calculations in charcoal. Finally, the west wall depicted a leader of some sort, crowned by a golden sun and speaking before a huge crowd of people wearing white shawls and golden togas. "So, we are finally here," Brenn said. Zaza was about to make a snide remark at the sorcerer for stating the obvious – she didn't like the man at all – when Bjön took out his journal and began to copy the map as best as he could. "Best to use the resources offered," he commented. "We can wait for a moment longer before we enter." There was no arguing the logic of that, so the others decided to rest for a moment. Samin took the time to decipher the charcoal scribbles. "It speaks of the city being made into what it is now, from a city originally called Kestrillon," he read. It was hard to read the words, while they were in Common, the writer had a bad handwriting. "Something about a Jewel of Everlasting Gold, and fire, floods, and molten gold. And those calculations..." Bjön lifted his head from his copying work. "Can you identify what they mean?" After a long moment, Samin nodded. "It calculates the amount of gold needed to flood the city with molten gold to a height of 40 ft and how long it takes to do so. Supposedly, it takes 73 hours and 20 minutes after the gates have been opened to flood the first two rings." Samin glanced at the map. "And it takes 25 hours to drain. Why would anyone want to flood a city with molten gold? Oh and there is a note saying that this magic jewel can only start but not reverse the process." "After the g-gates have been o-opened?" Mook piped in. "B-but the c-cultists have a-already opened it!" Edawon checked the ground for the cultist's traces again. "They didn't bother to look at the map or the notes, they just went in. Maybe they know about this, though, their leader having been here before." "Can we know how long ago they have entered?" Brenn asked in a tense voice. "No, sorry," Edawon shook his head. He looked even smaller than usual admitting this. "But they were not much ahead of us anymore when we arrived at the camp outside, maybe 6 or 7 hours." "I'm almost done," Bjön mumbled. A few minutes later, the party went on. A large doorway passed from the room of murals into the city proper. A lightly glowing green fluorescence emanated from the cavern roof above, illuminating a once-great city now reduced to ash and rubble but whose ruins were coated entirely in gold. A large, covered bridge across a canal glowed white-hot and emits a searing, golden light. In the center of the bridge stood a man-shaped statue covered in fine gold plating, its carved face eerily human-like. "A construct," Samin recognized. "Likely a mindless guard." "And there were others," Cajun pointed. The inside of the bridge was visible enough to note two piles of melted gold and other metals, about the volume of the statue they were facing. "Guess the Razmirans took care of them." "Too bad they didn't get them all," Kronk mused. "But they are obviously defeatable." "How does one defeat a gold statue?" Zaza wanted to know. "Maybe we don't have to," Samin pondered. "We have 3 potions of invisibility, an oil of invisibility, a potion of gaseous form and I can fly and have up to 3 of you flying as well. That would take up much of the magic I do not have to prepare though." "That l-leaves out D-dadawin, he w-wouldn't know how to fly and m-making him invisible s-pooks him," Mook pointed out. "We tried that a y-year or s-so ago." "Ah, yeah about that... maybe we should have the wolf wait here?" Bjön suggested. "W-why? H-he is in n-no more d-danger than the r-reest of us," Mook complained. "A-and he might be m-more in danger out h-here." Bjön didn't want to point out the difficulty a canine could create in climbing up walls and other situations, but he had to admit Dadawin might also be helpful. "Could Mook carry him while flying?" "No, she would not be able to carry more than she usually could, but Cajun or you probably could. Not sure if you would be able to carry Dadawin around normally." Cajun didn't hesitate and grabbed the wolf, lifting him up without difficulty. "I'd not be able to carry him far, but over the bridge, sure." Dadawin whined and protested, and Mook had to calm him down. Bjön thought for a moment, then he nodded. "Fine, the fight would probably take too much time anyway. But to save a potion, and because we might need to use gaseous form later, I'll carry Zaza, she is lightest." The paladin had done so for a short distance before, and in the storm. "No need to waste precious magic if we do not have to." "And maybe Brenn can carry me?" Kronk suggested. He was, after all, not that heavy either. "W-while at it, I'm n-not heavy either, so y-you could c-carry me," Mook pointed at Samin. "S-saves us a-another p-potion." Samin seemed to calculate her weight and his strength. He wasn't that weak, and had carried her here and there before. It would work for just over the bridge, so he nodded. "Aw, no one to carry me," Edawon mocked. "At least I carry my own weight." He chuckled at his own joke, but it sounded like he was trying to mask his fear. He was bulkier than any of the other small people in the group so carrying him would not have been so easy for anyone. Samin handed Edawon one of the invisibility potions. "We'll fly over first. Right over the bridge. Then you can come follow us. You'll see where we land and can probably find us quicker." "Right," Edawon mumbled. "Hurry up." The first ring of the city was elevated compared to the entrance, and the other two rings elevated in turn, with the gold flow staying at the lowest level. While his companions flew over and up to the other side – he noticed Samin struggling a bit – Edawon pondered all the wealth in this place. Was all the gold even real? What he could do with it if he had access to it. Fighting slavery would be so much easier... A call from the other side woke him from his musings. Cajun was shouting for him to hurry up. The construct had not noticed or cared about them. Wilbur was circling high over the city already to watch out for problems. The halfling nodded to himself and drank the potion. As he disappeared from sight, he made haste to cross the bridge, carefully avoiding the statue and the rubble inside. He still made a trail and caused some dust to raise, but the statue didn't care for either. "I'm here," he whispered as he arrived where the others where. "Don't be so dramatic," Zaza chuckled. "Wow, I can't believe we are inside. Really inside a legendary city!" Bjön was staring at the map, seemingly oblivious to the still invisible halfling's arrival or Zaza's enthusiasm. "I wish we could wait a day and renew your spell power, so we could fly in over the molten gold canal to the inner city, if you could prepare an additional spell. But with the gold flood probably to come – if the mechanism still works, we will not have time for that, thus need to make it through the city." Cajun scratched his head. "Will going through the city really be quicker? The cultists are ahead if us and probably left some nasty surprises, as they are expecting at least the lizardfolk after them." "Talking of those – where are they? I thought I heard them following us into the tunnel." Brenn looked back at the city entrance, but nothing moved over there. "We'll worry about that later. Right now, we need to decide how to proceed." Bjön was already walking towards the first intersection, nose still in his notes. "Stop!" "Halt it there!" Zaza and Samin shouted at the same time. Alarmed, the paladin looked about, hand to his axe, but he could not see anything out of the ordinary. "What..?" he started. "The intersection," Zaza said with an accusing frown. "The circle," Samin pointed at the same time to the same place. Looking down, Bjön could see it. "Yeeaaah..." he admitted, sounding sheepish. The runes in a circle around the intersection definitely looked suspicious. "I can see the point. Literally." "We better go around that one, then," Brenn added in a mocking voice and grinned at the dwarf. Bjön sighed. That had not helped for him to establish a leadership role. [/QUOTE]
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