Bootsy – 4th/1st Level Gnome Sorcerer/Fighter.
Celtir – 5th Level Elven Cleric.
Frankie – 5th Level Dwarven Barbarian.
Tristan – 4th Level Human Paladin.
Wencis – 4th Level Aasimar Incarnate.
Down the Rabbit Hole
“Both my parents and grandparents are always going on about how much harder things used to be”, said Celtir as he stood up and took a deep breath of the fresh spring air.
Wencis paused at his examination of the foliage around the entrance to the tunnel they had discovered. “Yeah, mine too. Always going on about how much longer it took to become really skilled in the old days. They always complain about how youth today are so caught up in learning so many different skills and trying to master amazing feats that there isn’t enough time for ‘real adventuring’, whatever that’s supposed to mean. I mean, just because the old man survived some ‘Tomb of Horrors’ as he describes it, doesn’t lessen the meaning of what we’re doing. We’ve worked hard to solve this problem this past week.”
Celtir ran his hand over his chest where a Varag had driven a blade through him, coming within a hairs breadth of ending his life. “You got that right.”
They were searching the area to see if they could find any trace of anyone having used this entrance recently or any other useful clues. The lack of results had resulted in a little meaningless banter.
Frankie stood from where he had been examining the ground near the stone cap that covered the entrance. “Yes, well fortunately Dwarven skill with stone is unchanged. I would say someone has either gone to great lengths to keep this area undisturbed during mining, or it was dug from the other end. Construction of a mine this big should have a significant impact on the area around the entrance.”
Looking to the trees around the opening Wencis noticed Bootsy leaning over next to one of the larger ones. “What in the Nine Hells is Bootsy doing with that squirrel over there?”
They saw him give the little creature that was chittering away before him a crust of bread before he stood and walked over. “The ground squirrel says he ain’t seen no one around this area and from what he describes, the mine was probably dug this past winter, though he didn’t see what did it.” The others gave Bootsy a skeptical look. “You’d be surprised how much you can learn from a burrowing mammal, they’re everywhere you know. We Gnomes think it’s a trick everyone should learn.”
“Right…. So what’s our next move?” asked Wencis.
Bootsy pointed to the stone covering the tunnel entrance, “Everyone back in the hole.”
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Standing at the edge of the great hollow the companions tried to see what lay beyond and below. They didn’t see any tunnels exiting on the far side and the bottom of the hollow was lost in darkness. Always eager to solve a problem with fire, Bootsy took out a flask of oil. Fashioning a wick out of a piece of cloth soaked in oil and setting it alight he dropped the flask over the edge. “One burning troll… two burning trolls… three burning trolls…” Smash! The bottle hit the bottom and the oil ignited, illuminating the bottom of the hollow in a flash. “About one hundred and fifty feet, I would say.”
“How much rope do we have?” asked Tristan.
Wencis smiled, “It just so happens, we know where to find a two hundred foot long rope ladder.”
Tristan looked incredulous. “What… how… I… I can’t even imagine the logistical nightmare of fashioning something like that, not to mention carting it around?”
“Yes, well we didn’t make it, but we are the new proud owners,” Bootsy smiled. “Let’s go get it.”
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While the others secured the ladder near the edge of the precipice, Bootsy took some time to study the magical emanations that filled the entire cavern. He had felt magic like this before, “Earth magic. This whole area is saturated with the power of the earth.”
Frankie looked up from where he had just driven a spike into the stone floor and seemed to bask in the energy around him, then looked to Bootsy and smiled, nodding his agreement.
Moving to the edge, Celtir gave the rope ladder a tug. “Well, let’s see what’s down there.”
At the bottom, they found the hollow’s smooth floor to be roughly circular. The air was alive with energy and thick with the smell of developing lightning. Small holes punctured the walls near the floor, opening into dozens of small tunnels that ran off into lightlessness. Dull dust was thickly heaped around the edges, thickest near the holes.
Bootsy once again turned his attention to the magical emanations that suffused the air. Celtir could feel it as well. “It’s possible that casting spells here could increase their power,” Bootsy said with a smile.
Celtir nodded, “The magic here can also be shaped, utilized to transfer us… somewhere else.”
“That’s a little vague,” Wencis said with a frown. “Could you be a little more specific?”
“It’s happened recently,” said Bootsy trying to focus on reading the residual lines of energy. “Someone has used that magic recently.”
“Can we follow?” asked Frankie.
Bootsy looked around thoughtfully. “Yes. But it will take time to gather the energies, about eight hours, maybe more.”
Celtir nodded his agreement, and then sat down to focus his thoughts. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” said Bootsy as he sat down and found a comfortable spot to nap, “Wake me when you’re ready.” He started to snore almost immediately.
The others gave the small tunnels a cursory examination, the horrid smell and cramped quarters dissuaded them from exploring more then a few feet.
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After only about an hour Celtir’s head snapped up. “Wake Bootsy, I hear something coming.”
Rousting Bootsy, the others gathered their equipment and spread out, each looking in different directions. Suddenly a wave of insects appeared. Pouring out of the holes, a carpet of roaches swarmed toward Bootsy. A number of giant roaches, some as large as a big dogs, came with them.
With them came The Stench. A sickening stench filled the air as the insects skittered into the room. Most of the companions just wrinkled their noses and tried to inhale as little as possible, but Bootsy caught it full force. Sickened by the smell, he had to focus his will power just to keep from vomiting. He found it hard to focus his full attention on the matter at hand.
Despite his condition, Bootsy attacked. A fan of flames leapt from his outstretched hands burning away a large number of the insects. But the swarm kept coming and rolled over him, thousands of tiny insect biting at him as they crawled over his whole body.
Tristan and Frankie charged toward the two largest Roaches, both hacking deep with their weapons. Celtir cast a spell and a burst of bright light burned at the swarm, catching Bootsy just at the edge of the effect. “Sorry!” Bootsy just waved it off.
Wencis and his ever present Soul Spark smashed one with hammer and soul energy. There was a bright blue spark and the smell of ozone as electricity leapt from his hammer, frying the insect instantly. For a moment he considered naming his soul energy hammer, “The Bug Zapper”, but that thought passed quickly as it didn’t seem a very heroic title. The remaining creatures scuttled up to Celtir and bit at his legs.
Bootsy, enraged beyond reason by the bugs that swarmed all over him, smashed a flask of alchemist fire right at his own feet. The smell of burning insects mixed with The Stench and the swarm broke up, the tiny insects scurrying back into the dark holes that spawned them. Finding him self free of the insects, Bootsy started patting out the flames that were burning away his robes.
Frankie and Tristan kept smashing at the insects in front of them, but the creatures survived the attacks and continued to bite back. Celtir kept up his attacks with his bow, stepping away from the insects each time they closed the gap to attack him. Bootsy drew his crossbow and fired at any moving insect he could get within his sights. Wencis and his Soul Spark leant their support to the others where they could. Finally able to focus their attacks, the companions quickly killed the few remaining insects.
While Celtir sat down to continue gathering the magical energies of the node, Tristan looked into the holes the insects had crawled out of. “Well, we have some time to kill. How about you tie a rope around me and I see if I can find anything within the small tunnels.”
Wencis laughed, “Kind of like the Gnomish yo-yo, except with a paladin. A paladin yo-yo!”
Tristan found himself giving his companions yet another confused look. “Guess we didn’t tell you about that part of our story,” Wencis said with a smile. The paladin started to worry a little about the sanity of his new companions.
Tristan crawled through each of the cramped tunnels, one at a time, going as far as the rope tied around his waist would let him. Finally his search paid off. Just as he was about to crawl back the way he had come, he found the rock his hand was resting on was actually a skull. Picking it up, he examined it closely in the light shed by Merthuvial. It was definitely humanoid, probably Human or Elven. Sifting around in the dust and grime, he found two desiccated bodies. There was little left, though he was able to scrounge a potion, some coin and a spider figurine carved from black banded red jasper.
Once he had climbed back out, he showed his companions what he had found. While Bootsy set about identifying the potion, Celtir cast Detect Magic and Wencis cast Detect Evil on the figurine.
“It’s definitely magic,” said Celtir.
“It’s not evil,” added Wencis.
Tristan held up one of the coins. “Look at this.” The others gathered around as he showed them the face of the coin. On it was the profile of a beautiful Elven woman and a spider.
“Drow,” Celtir spat, unable to hide his disgust.
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“I’m ready.”
The others looked to Celtir. “Gather around, I expect everyone within the node will go, but we should stay close nonetheless. Especially since we don’t know where we’ll end up.”
As the others gathered around him, Celtir concentrated. The energies of the node gathered around them, making their skin prickle and their hair stand on end. Finally there was a bright flash, then darkness. Then there was a feeling as if they were being pushed through the very earth. Though it was a little disconcerting, they were unharmed. Just as they started to worry that they may be stuck underground forever, there was another flash and they found themselves standing in a crater. It was obviously contained within a larger space, though the rim of the crater kept them from seeing much of their surroundings.
Carefully, the companions climbed up the wall of the crater to see where the magic of the node had sent them.
Beyond, they found a wide underdark vista lit by a pale light that shone through enormous columns that marched into the misted distance. The benighted waters of a sunless sea met a pebble strewn shore a half-mile or so away. Across that dark water, a city glimmered around the base of the nearest column.
A cobbled road, which emerged from an opening in a dimly glowing cavern wall about a quarter mile to their left, passed within ten feet of the crater and continued on to the right. It finally connected to a narrow but elongated stone formation that spanned the shadowy sea and reached more than a mile to the city.
Just across the road from the crater, a strange covered wagon sat. A broad dusky dwarf, bald, with a white beard, stood in front of it, smiling. He wore a thick leather coat and gloves that had gold piping. Two large gray lizards stood idly nearby.
The grinning Dwarf called out in a deep baritone in perfect Common, “Node travelers and unless I miss my mark, surfacers too! I am Bruthwol Coalhauler, humble merchant! Perhaps you would like to see my wares?”
Wordlessly the others looked to the paladin with the unspoken question, “Evil?” He gave a small shake of his head indicating he could sense no evil.
Celtir stepped forward. “Greetings. Could you tell us where we are exactly?”
Bruthwol spread his arms and answered, “Welcome to the Great Grotto! Once a major center of trade, it has been relegated to a backwater by disease and war. Brigands ne’er do wells and refugees from this or that underdark power inhabit the fallen Drow city of Pedestal. See it there surrounding that first column beyond the Sullen Sea? Never will you find a more wretched hive of…”
“Yes, yes,” Bootsy interrupted, “It’s a terrible place, I’m sure. What brings you to this area?”
The friendly smile never left Bruthwol’s face as he answered, “Well even lowlife’s need trade to sustain them. Thus I also call pedestal my home.”
“Have you seen anyone else come through recently?” asked Wencis.
Bruthwol looked thoughtful for a moment, “Well, I have been camped here a few days. Not too long ago, a cloaked figure, a female humanoid by the shape, though I couldn’t discern much else, emerged from this very node. She ignored my greetings and stalked off toward the Oceanbridge. Is she a friend of yours?”
Celtir was careful in his answer, still not sure if he could trust this Dwarf. “No, but we would like to speak with her. Who would we talk to if we needed some questions answered?”
“Well, I’ll answer what I can, but if you have hard questions, or seek someone,” Bruthwol said with a knowing look, “Es Sarch is the one to talk to. You can find him at the Dripstone Inn on the street of the Five Hanged, directly north three blocks from Pedestal’s southern gate. He knows everything about the city, though he’s sure to want something in return for his help.”
“What can you tell us of Pedestal? Would surfacers be welcome there?”
Bruthwol laughed, “No more or less then anyone else. Keep to yourselves, don’t let anyone push you around and you have as good a chance of surviving to see tomorrow as the next guy. But then again, if you’re still alive then the next guy is probably dead. Listen, Pedestal has no central power. Several groups claim sovereignty, but during bad weeks, the city is little better than a war zone. Good weeks are merely lawless. Anarchy rose in the collapse of the Drow hierarchy. A terrible plague ten years ago wiped nearly all of them out.
“The three top powers are the Inheritors, House Dusklorne and the Assassins Guild…
Bootsy stepped forward and interrupted, “You got any acid in there? Or maybe some oil?”
Bruthwol’s smile grew even wider, “I sure do, step right this way, all my goods are in my wagon.”
“How about a map?” Wencis asked.
“Why sure, I’ll give you a free map of Pedestal with any purchase over ten gold.”
After a short discussion the companions purchased some basic equipment, even giving the gregarious Dwarf a small tip and made ready to head off to Pedestal. As they walked away, Bruthwol called after them, “Be careful crossing the Oceanbridge, wild Kuo-toa and worse swim in the sea’s murky waters. Sometimes travelers who start at one end of the bridge fail to arrive at the other. In fact, part of the bridge has been damaged for a while now. Good luck! If you spend any time in Pedestal, look me up at the Bazaar on East Row. I keep a stall there and should be there within a few days time.”
The companions smiled, waved and kept on walking. “That seemed a little strange,” muttered Wencis.