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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Carnifex" data-source="post: 965567" data-attributes="member: 227">Outside, in the rocky ravine, Wyshira had just uttered her question when in the valley below them, a wooded delve with a river running through it, a bright, azure blue light pulsed momentarily. The beholder swung a number of eyes round to peer down the gully they were in, apparently seeing movement at its bottom. "Something approaches," it growled interestedly. There was a faint breeze on the air, but something more than the moving air made the skin of the two women prickle, almost as if in anticipation. Wyshira could feel a new presence nearby, something that she couldn't explain but she knew must be powerful, something divine. Melisande felt not this, but instead her blood seemed to tingle as if electricity were dancing down her limbs. * * *Slowly the paralysis crept from Sebastion and Kale, leaving them both cold and stiff but still alive... With the ghouls dealt with, the party explored the rest of the irregular cave; no further undead lay in wait for them. There were no other viable routes off; a few constrictingly small tunnels leading away but nothing any of them could possibly manage to get through. A few pieces of debris and animal bones were lodged in some of the tunnels, from wher water running through the sloping cavern had washed them down. Amongst the stalagmites at the back, Wolf had quickly set to with the enchanted dragonkin mace and smashed a few off, quicky yielding a fair amount of the mineral-laden stone spikes to carry back to the captor of their comrades. The fiery serpent waited by where it had last attacked, watching Burl in a manner that could only be termed as expectantly. The cave was to yield one last surprise. The small lit area they had seen upon entry turned out to be a small alcove in a rocky wall, a short candle flickering in the gloom. Strangely, the candle didn't appear to have burned down at all despite being lit, and had been placed high up enough on a ledge to be out of the way and sheltered from the moisture and damp of the rest of the room. Also in the alcove, clean and polished and neatly arranged, were three items. The first was a pair of solid, reinforced soldiers boots, the kind of footwear designed to hold through for long marches and battlefield manoeuvers, except that upon close inspection it was inlaid in places with both pieces of smoothly polished dull gray stone and equally smooth stone of a dull blue-white hue. The stone didn't seem to impact particularly upon the weight of the boots though. On top of the boots was a highly polished and spotless silver helm. Above the open face was the head of a hawk pointing outwards, its wings swooping down on either side to frame the face of whoever might wear it. The rest of the helm was decorated with swirling wave patterns. And laid down in front of both of these was a small neck-chain upon which an amulet in the image of the holy emblem of Naskha, a golden dragons head within a circle, was attached. The same holy symbol was crudely scratched into the stone walls behind the items.Rising slowly, stiffly to his feet, Sebastion's embaressment at his fate was ameliorated only by watching Kale go through the same lethargic process. By the time he'd cleared the worst of the penetrating cold, he found himself staring up at the paraphernalia with a strange feeling. It wasn't just that Naskha was associated with wizards and magic, though that didn't settle him at all, but rather that it seemed almost as though it were a shrine of some sort. "I don't know," he muttered, quietly, trying to rub some heat back into his hands, "spoils of war is one thing, but this feels like grave-robbing... I'm leaving well enough alone."Kale's senses came back to him slowly, but he wasted no time making his way awkwardly to his feet, and away from the foul undead corpses. "Thanks," he said to Wolf simply as he offered a hand up. It was the first time he had fallen in battle. Well, not exactly the first... but the first where his fate would be sealed, were it not for the quick work of his companions. A slight mercy, he was able to watch Sebastion recover with the same awkwardness. Of good fortune, the cave was now distinctly lit by the flames of the large fire serpent. Its sinuous flaming body looked in anticipation to Burl. Flickering shadows and permeating stench, and as though the scene couldn't be any more odd, the serpent seemed to know or recognize Burl. And it called him... bloodkin. The plot seemed to grow even thicker at the revelation. But then, what does an animated campfire know? Kale mused, frustrated that the odd, somehow naive necromancer could have anything to do with the cultist slave-keppers they'd so recently dispatched to the next world. Kale turned curiously to the flame creature, "Why do you talk to this man? You didn't for the blue woman two days ago..." Suspicions suggested an answer of their own. In a small cave with a wand-wielding fire-commanding necromancer with ties to Gilamesh... but Burl could be trusted, couldn't he? But more curiousities abounded, and the team had little time to tarry. His javelin offered light for the moment, so Kale went about examining the crevices of the cave, poking about in the bones to see what manner of cratures used to live down in the cavern. He suspected goblins or kobolds, or some other species who'd scavenge from the beholder, before the undead beasts came up... or down... or whatever it is that the things do when they show up. And then there was the alcove, shrine? "I'm leaving well enough alone" Sebsastion just said, and Kale looked over to see a collection of items. A rough symbol was scrawled on the wall beside the alcove, hardly the work of a man commemorating the fall of a Wave Hawk. Could this be the shrine for one of the fallen elite? Beholder probably did him in, and some primative scav'ed the gear to worship it... Kale rationalized. "Hardly a fitting grave," he supposed, looking for reason to collect the gear. Maybe Ecurius would offer a reward. Maybe Kale could keep those spectacular boots. Surely they were enchanted. Enchanted boots meant for elite long-ranging soldiers. Was this the remains of a Wave Hawk's last stand? It was all so interesting, and while Kale could do more than muster cultural respect for the dead, the notion of crossing regard for a falled warrior gave him pause. "Boot shrines in slimy muck-caves is hardly how to honor the fallen," he concluded at last. "Now there's something I can use," Kale reached as he looked unbelievingly... at the nevermelting candle in the sconce. His javelin magic had waned, and he was happy to have any sort of illumination at his command. Kale gathered the boots, helmet, and medallion, stowing the gear in the harness webbing on his back. There was the issue of concealing the gear from the beholder, but Kale would just have to cross that bridge when he came to it. Hefting some of the ore slabs, he queried the others. "We have the option of throwing ourselves on the mercy of the beholder, hoping he'll free us in return for the ore." he menitoned as he stepped quite carefully up the slimy incline. At the top he grounded his load for a moment to offer Burl a hand up. "Or perhaps Sebastion didn't make it out alive... you could be galloping for help while we... " the plan just didn't seem to come to completion. "Oh never mind. But there's no reason why we should all go walking back there. Sebastion, why don't you and I return the ore, collect our crew, and meet the rest at the horses?" And Kale had no desire that the others would mount a defense, should the beholder decide to attack. Well, at least there's some new boots in it for me...</blockquote>

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