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Eberron's Not So Brave - The Dragonmarked Madness
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<blockquote data-quote="Lwaxy" data-source="post: 5991508" data-attributes="member: 53286"><p>Thanks for reading <img src="data:image/gif;base64,R0lGODlhAQABAIAAAAAAAP///yH5BAEAAAAALAAAAAABAAEAAAIBRAA7" class="smilie smilie--sprite smilie--sprite2" alt=";)" title="Wink ;)" loading="lazy" data-shortname=";)" /></p><p></p><p></p><p>-------------------------------------------</p><p></p><p>There was nothing in the corridor on the next level except an old, mostly rotten tapestry showing a bear hunt and a hardly recognizable painting of a duel. Some mold of the harmless type was visible here and there on the fine marble floor, and thanks to the damaged roof there were some slippery spots where the rain had come in and some sort of algae were thriving. The corridor made a right turn and lead towards a door before going left. </p><p></p><p>"This door first so we have nothing in our backs?" the paladin asked. </p><p></p><p>"I'd suggest checking out the sounds first," Zolan suggested instead. "Don't you hear that?"</p><p></p><p>Now that he mentioned it, the others could hear the faint sounds of scraping and rustling. It came from where the corridor went left. "Sounds like insects," the druid guessed. </p><p></p><p>Following the sounds, they came to where the corridor went left once more. To their right hand in the corner was a badly damaged, half open door. Before anyone could stop him, Zolan poked his head in. "Spiders it is," he announced as he withdrew. "Some big, nasty, black ones with angry green markings on their backs. Looks poisonous. And it looks like they are eating a zombie."</p><p></p><p>"Whatever eats zombies is our friend," Ti'ir decided. "Let's leave them well enough alone until they come at us. Unless there is anything of interest in that room?"</p><p></p><p>"Not that I could see. But then, there were a lot of webs."</p><p></p><p>"There is more noise. Some flapping." Ahan pointed down the corridor. </p><p></p><p>The displacer beast hissed. It sounded almost dismissive. "She says it's just bats, and small ones," Filbura translated. </p><p></p><p>"Great, then, back to the first door. I have a feeling some revelation is waiting there." Lorraine pointed with her sword and went to see if she could open the door. </p><p></p><p>"You mean like where all the undead come from?" Filbura closed the door to the spider room a bit more before she followed. </p><p></p><p>"More like what happened here. This was at least partly a magical attack." The fighter found the door to be open, but stuck, so she started pulling. </p><p></p><p>"Indeed." Quavin pointed at scorch marks and other signs which were, at first sight, easily missed. "And it doesn't look like this all happened during the Last War either." </p><p></p><p>"More recent, yes, and I..." Lorraine couldn't finish her sentence, as the door opened and everyone immediately noticed the red glowing eyes in the dimness of a room with shut windows. A gust of cold and dust drifted into the corridor, and as nothing happened, the party began to notice other details. Hunting trophies, including a rotten snarling brown bear posed to stand up, a boar with a bored expression and a snake with glittering glass yes, were on the floor and on the walls. Turned over chairs and a broken table were lying half rotten on the floor. A skeleton construct was posed in front of the only other door out of the room. It had the red eyes they had noticed, and they were staring right at them. </p><p></p><p>"Bone golem," Lorraine whispered. "Often used for training, and the commands for it are always the same." Stepping inside, she lifted her sword and called out "Alabaster." Immediately, the thing stepped aside and into a corner.</p><p></p><p>"Alabaster?" the paladin chuckled. </p><p></p><p>"Well, it can't very well be something easy to try like 'stand down' now, can it?" The fighter sounded a bit peeved. "As long as it worked."</p><p></p><p>"Indeed." Quavin sighed. "Anything is better than fighting everything we come across."</p><p></p><p>"Looks this was once the trophy chamber and office of the commander." Lorraine pointed her sword at the closed door. "Which probably means we'll find his quarters there."</p><p></p><p>"Nothing here to tell us what has transpired." Quavin, who had been checking out the room holding up the light high, frowned at the rat-eaten trophies and mold eaten papers. "We can just hope the commander had a private log or something."</p><p></p><p>"They usually do." Lorraine opened the door to what looked like a sitting room. It opened surprisingly smoothly and didn't even squeak. "Some protective magic on the door,I guess."</p><p></p><p>Another set of red eyes stared at them from one of the moldy armchairs. "Another bone golem? They seem to love them." Filbura frowned. But the displacer beast howled in alarm. </p><p></p><p>"Not a bone golem." The light in here was somewhat better, if still dim. The paladin took up a defensive position in front of the others and next to Lorraine. "This looks to be a bog mummy."</p><p></p><p>Indeed, the glowing eyes belonged to a brownish colored body that must have rested in the marsh ground for quite some time. It seemed to be male, and the rusty sword in its hands looked more than a bit threatening as it got up and, with a creaking sound of its joints, came forward. The intent to attack was obvious. </p><p></p><p>"Whoever he was when he was alive, time in the bog hasn't done him any favors," Zolan chuckled. "Can you two handle it?"</p><p></p><p>Lorraine replied by stepping forward,catching the rusty sword of the mummy with ease, disarming the thing. Unfortunately, undead didn't care if they were armed or not, and this one was no difference. With a creaking sound, the arms of the thing stretched out to wrap around Lorraine's neck. Trying to catch her balance from almost falling over something unseen on the floor, the woman knew she could not duck the attack. Fortunately, just before the arms made contact, they were separated from the mummy's body and clunked to the ground. Then the head of the abomination went flying as well. "Yup,we can handle it," a grinning paladin announced. </p><p></p><p>"How can you stay so calm in the presence of these things?" Filbura busted out. "They are so unnatural, they really make me feel all wobbly." </p><p></p><p>"Me, too," the elven bard admitted. </p><p></p><p>Ahna looked at them with piercing blue eyes in that 'paladin on a mission' way as Zolan loved to call it. "We'll be seeing a lot of things like this one in the future," she said sternly. "When we decided to take on adventuring, we all knew what this would entail, at least the basics of it, no? While we may not all be motivated by wanting to be champions of valor - or even heroes known at least in Sharn - but instead want birthrights back and to live in the luxury of Houses again, we all should be clear that this is no garden party. We'll battle with evil most of the way, be assured, so instead of giving in to fears and worries, we need to employ our inner strength, even humor, to deal with the situation. Some day, one of us might not make it. And the last thing the survivors would need is falling victim to emotions where a clear head a logic are in order!"</p><p></p><p>Everyone else except Lorraine, including the displacer beast, stared at the gnome. "Right, then," Zolan finally coughed. "But you can forgive us if at one point of the other some of us don't live up to your paladinish standards,yes?"</p><p></p><p>Lorraine, who had checked out the mostly empty room and found nothing, was already moving towards doors likely leading into the bedchambers. "Are you going to stand there all day giving and listening to lessons of morale, or can we get on with this?" </p><p></p><p><em>"In my time, I've seen many an adventurer party give up," a middle aged woman who looked like an archer with her strong arms and piercing stare, said. "That's the other part of adventuring most people don't get. It's not a game, and while you can have fun and excitement, the tragedies that may happen need to be kept in mind."</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>A few others nodded and said words of agreement, while a few young folks mumbled among themselves, looking a bit worried. Possible future adventurers, no doubt. The storyteller smiled and nodded, continuing her story.</em></p><p><em></em></p><p>"The party indeed came into a once luxurious, oak paneled bedroom, the left over furniture as useless and moldy as all other things they had found until now. What was remarkable though was the mostly skeleton body on the ground next to the rotten canopy bed. It was of an armed and armored man bearing the symbol of House Deneith and stripes marking him as the garrison commander. A faint magic glow, even visible to those with no magic abilities, surrounded the remains, which explained why the unfortunate commander had not joined the undead forces. "Someone put a powerful blessing on the body," Zolan mused. "Probably because they had no way to come back and bury him properly."</p><p></p><p>"This is curious." Lorraine inspected the body closely, careful not to touch anything. </p><p></p><p>"Something wrong?" the orc asked. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah, you could say that. He's been killed by a throwing axe." Lorraine pointed to the blade still embedded in one of the ribs. "Someone tried to save him, but he likely lost too much blood."</p><p></p><p>"What's so unusual about that?"</p><p></p><p>"Look at the blade more closely," Lorraine said darkly. </p><p></p><p>Before Zolan could do so, Moreelle whistled. "The blade has House Deneith markings."</p><p></p><p>Indeed, now that it had been pointed out, the others could barely make out the etched Deneith symbol in the middle of the blade. "So you think he has been killed by one of his own?"</p><p></p><p>Lorraine shook her head. "There are many factions in our house, as I'm sure there are in all others. Rivalry is more or less open. And sometimes, although this is hardly ever admitted to, those rivalries can take deadly turns."</p><p></p><p>"So, another faction of Deneith is responsible for the attack? How many factions are there, and which one did this man belong to? Or the attackers?" Filbura's eyes had gone wide. House Kundarak had its own rivalries, sure, but save some poison every once in a while, they did not usually take such violent turns. </p><p></p><p>"That, I cannot know," Lorraine admitted. "I need to find more information." Looking around the room, she frowned, seemingly lost in thoughts. </p><p></p><p>"And then, of course," the paladin cautioned, "is always the possibility the killer just took the weapon of one of the defenders."</p><p></p><p>"Good point. But then doesn't the intact bone golem support the theory of Deneith killers?" Quavin mused. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah..." Ahna admitted, not liking the idea to be drawn into house politics. </p><p></p><p>"In any case, we can't get past this magic to bury the man, if we could even get him out. And he's well enough protected, so I suggest we let dead commanders lie," Zolan offered. </p><p></p><p>"Definitely." Ahna began checking out the room in assistance of the displacer beast, who was sniffing at the rotten furniture, and Filbura and the bard who seemed to need to take their minds off the dead body for now. </p><p></p><p>"Here it is." Lorraine sounded triumphant, and a squeaking noise made everyone turn towards her. Behind the canopy bed, a secret panel was swinging open ever so slowly, the mechanism damaged by decay. "Many commanders have secret chambers for the monetary stuff and, of course, the more important papers." </p><p></p><p>The small chamber behind was glowing in a faint magic light, too, but Quavin quickly asserted that it was just a stasis field to protect documents. There were a few small chests and scroll cases, and most important to Lorraine a box with well sorted papers in binders. She grabbed them quickly, stowing them away in her backpack. "Time to go through them is when we are out. Take the rest, don't bother to look. It's the treasury most likely, and we can examine that later, too. In the name of my house, I claim treasure and papers for us," she formally added, just in case there was additional protective magic. </p><p></p><p>"Can we get out now? This was the last floor save the towers, yes?" Filbura had already retreated to the bedroom door. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah the rest of the place needs to be accessed from elsewhere. Just clean out this floor, and then we need to find a way into the towers, and check the basement. The undead plague must come from somewhere," Ahna reminded them. </p><p></p><p>Fortunately, save the bats in a room otherwise empty and a zombie giant snake in the old dueling room at the end of the corridor – which was dealt with quickly enough – there was nothing more of interest. As they were about to retreat again, Lorraine insisted on barricading the stairs with the plenty of rotten furniture and broken on walls. "Lest we want to find new infestations on the morrow. I doubt we can finish the job today, we are all exhausted."</p><p></p><p>It was barely early afternoon, but the others agreed. While it was exhausting them even more to place barricades, it was certainly better than going through the floors for another time. They also took the time to check if anything had moved in since they had come through, but they were lucky. They also found the badly concealed doors to the towers and wondered how they had missed it the first time. Finally, they stood in the entrance hall again. Anti poison potions were handed around once more, and they began discussing further actions. </p><p></p><p>They could go up the spiral stairs to the towers or they could check out the basement. Both options meant something could sneak up to them from the other side. With a bit or reluctance, they decided to block the stairs to the basement with a barely rotten cupboard from the entrance hall. With the toppled over thing blocking the stairs, mindless undead would be kept down, and even those who had somewhat of a mind would have their issues. It would of course not be that easy to remove the blockade again but they were sure they could manage once they had rested. </p><p></p><p>Rest, however, was not on the menu yet. They could at least get up the stairs and to level 4, which they thought served as a base for the towers. A weird way to construct a stronghold, maybe, especially as it had not helped much to keep invaders confused. It made for all the more running up and down while they were already having some troubles catching their breath. </p><p></p><p>"Maybe we can find a save place to rest up there," Lorraine offered. "Once we cleared the other levels out, save the spiders and bats it would have made a better place than sleeping in the swamp."</p><p></p><p>"Not better than staying in the hut," Zolan grimaced. But he, as all the others, followed Lorraine up, with Ahna bringing up the rear. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>At roughly the same time, back in Sharn, a frustrated Viril was staring intently at the 3D map they had gotten from law enforcement. Another spot had just lit up on the map, indicating the vampire killer had found a new victim. "There is a pattern in all this, I just know it," the wannabe private eye mumbled, more to himself as everyone else was a bit tired of him repeating it over and over. "Maybe it includes the time of day the murders happen?" Hopeful, he started to write down details on a scrap of paper. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah," Yuja, who was balancing on her chair with a cup of coffee in her hand opposite the half-elf said automatically, not really listening. "Hey, look at that! They have finally tracked down the suppliers of the red ale and the black beer. Ahna will be happy to hear about it?"</p><p></p><p>"Huh?" Irritated about being interrupted, the fat half-elf looked up at her. "Ale, Beer?"</p><p></p><p>"Really, where have you been? Ahna has been going on about this drug connection for quite a while. Supposedly, the red ale and the black wine make you all happy happy joy joy but open you up for suggestions and spells and servants of the Dark Six have been using this as a way to gain followers or, at least sacrifices. It has been quite the talk of Sharn recently."</p><p></p><p>"I see." Viril was running his hands through his hair. "I don't pay that much attention when Ahna is in one of her super paladin moods. I just turn her out," he admitted. </p><p></p><p>"Yeah, we do the same when you go on about the investigation for more than an hour, of if you keep repeating yourself like in the last 15 minutes." She downed the brown liquid and grinned at her friend. "Tell you what, let's start anew with this. Maybe it is not the dates of the killings, it is the position only. We know some attacks failed, and the murderer came back later to kill someone else, at a different time."</p><p></p><p>"Good point." Viril pushed the piece of paper away. "But the locations seem so random, all over Sharn in a long period of time."</p><p></p><p>"Maybe we can't see a pattern yet because there are not enough victims? Like in those connect the dot games," Yuja suggested, shifting her equally overweight form to a more comfortable position. "You usually need to see at least half the dots and be good in it to know what will come of it."</p><p></p><p>"Huh!" Viril shook his head in worry. "That'd be an awful lot of murders."</p><p></p><p>"We might just not be good in it and the vampire is almost done," the girl offered. "In any case, this is 3-dimensional. Harder to see, especially since we don't know what direction we need to look at it from."</p><p></p><p>"Huh!" Viril shouted again. "I never thought of that. I just assumed down was down, and where the information was placed was front."</p><p></p><p>"Down is probably really down, unless the killer is truly messed up." Getting up to get more coffee, the girl tried to look at the image from all sides. "And it is an overlay over the city. I know we took that out before, maybe we should again and then hit the arcane library with it."</p><p></p><p>"What? Why? Do you think the killer is a mage?"</p><p></p><p>"Maybe, but I was more thinking about this all being some sort of rituals or one big ritual or whatever, or maybe a star chart of sorts. Where else to find out about that than in the arcane library?"</p><p></p><p>"Ah." Viril's face lit up visibly. "Why didn't we think of that earlier?" </p><p></p><p>"It's only been 2 days," Yuja laughed. "Of course we need some time to process it. The law has been on it for month with no results." She didn't mention that the law had probably already had arcane help, as she needed to do something else but sit here and listen to her friend complain. "Maybe we should take our oracle, too?"</p><p></p><p>"She's not yet back. That fair she was invited to read at, remember? Will be a few hours."</p><p></p><p>"Alright, then. Let's go. Maybe when the others are all back, we have some more info to go by."</p><p></p><p>As they were making their way out of the front door, the back door - leading to a balcony for the whole complex lit by a timed daylight spell - opened with a squeak into the small sitting room. Tibunn, Feyan and Nihil rushed in after making sure no one else was in there. </p><p></p><p>"Do you think it is a good idea to do this on our own?" Tibunn asked, starting, like the others, to gather his equipment from his room after putting down groceries and other things they had just bought. </p><p></p><p>Nihil ignored the look and checked the positions of his knives. "This is a chance for me to gain favor with my House again."</p><p></p><p>"Someone stole a few messages you don't even know what they might contain, you remember being run over by the thief in the description and think you kn ow where he lives – but you aren't sure." Despite his doubts, Tibunn was already dressed up for a hunt. </p><p></p><p>"Hey," Feyan jumped in. "I lost an important document for my House, and everyone was quite angry. so I can imagine his House would be glad to get the messages back. It's a matter of reliability."</p><p></p><p>"Exactly." The bard looked ready to go after he had tucked away his small crossbow. "The reward is substantial enough to make me think something important was in those messages, too." </p><p></p><p>"Yeah, I admit, a 100 gold just for giving information about the guy seems a lot." The thief wannabe was ready now, too. "But I wonder that they didn't post any information about what they would pay if you bring the guy or the messages."</p><p></p><p>"Most people would probably not bother with someone stealing others' mail," Feyan grinned. "Nothing really heroic about it. That's what Sharn has a law enforcement for."</p><p></p><p>"Which in turn relies on adventurers like us to work properly anyway, so we are all good," Nihil pointed out. "And we can leave the guy to the guards, all I want is the bag with the messages."</p><p></p><p>"We get it, we get it. Let's go, then, and tell us in detail how the guy ran into you, and where. Seems like a lot of luck." Feyan left a quick note on the back of their shopping list to state they were 'on a small job and back soon.'</p><p></p><p>"Well..." There was no way around it, so the bard began his slightly tuned down tale about his chance meeting with someone from the bottom part of Sharn's society. "</p><p></p><p>"<em>So the gnome didn't learn," a stern woman in the audience shook her head. "After the matchmaking disaster he should have known better."</em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"When do gnomes ever know better?" a dwarf grinned. </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>"Hey, we always know better!" A young gnome bard jumped on a chair and struck a few heroic notes. "We just tend to believe better is boring!" </em></p><p><em></em></p><p><em>As the laughter of the audience died down, the storyteller continued. </em>"As they made their way down into the lower levels of the great city, they listened to the bard's story about meeting an outcast bard on one of the lower taverns while searching for some more unsavory type of songs to add to his repertoire. The man was wanted on the upper levels for slighting one noble or the other, or so he had said, but was happy enough living the way he did. And he had kept his promise of not only teaching new songs but also some new spells, always complimenting Nihil on his voice and arcane potential. One afternoon, Nhil had again lost his way and found himself on a level where hardly anyone lived but some ratmen – who were friendly enough towards a bard to point him in the right direction. Shortly after, the thief of the messages ran into him and knocked the bard against a wall, not even looking back. The description – tall black haired man with a red dragon tattoo on his forehead, left eye missing, a pronounced limp – was so obvious he couldn't forget him. Which was a good thing because today he had seen the wanted notice on the market. </p><p></p><p>"Are you sure you even find the place again? And ratmen? I am sure they are not generally friendly to strangers." The doubtful expression just wouldn't leave the halfling's pale face. "The area down there is generally dangerous, I'm surprised you didn't run into trouble yet."</p><p></p><p>"I did... a few times. But having a few friends down there by now has helped," the bard admitted. "Anyway, yes, I can find the place again. I left some arcane marks only me can see under normal circumstances to guide me."</p><p></p><p>"You learned how to do that? Very nice, will come in handy if we ever have to go into the sewers again, or any sort of dungeon." For the first time, the expression of the halfling softened and he shook his head so his blue locks were flying about him. "I have had a few nightmares about being stuck in a sewer maze without a hint how to get out." </p><p></p><p>"Me, too," the gnome admitted before he could catch himself. "But," he quickly added, "that was some time ago." </p><p></p><p>The lower areas of Sharn are a hive of scum and villany, but not only. A lot of the denizens there simply have no other choice but to live there, for various reasons, and try to make the best of it. Dirty and run down and dark does barely begin to describe it, but if you made up your mind, you can see beyond the filth and notice that life, there, is not that much different than anywhere else. The same way you'd find that in a palace of shining light and many fine things there is the same sort of treachery and greed as in any other place in the world. </p><p></p><p>They had been down in those places before, of course, when they had recovered the schema. At that time, though, they hadn't known what to expect. Now they did. The low levels of the tower the bard was leading them to seemed to be flooded with beggars usually begging on higher up levels, dark figures shooting looks at them and the occasional scream or wild laughter here and there. None of them spoke until they finally arrived at what almost looked to be a cave entrance. Half the wall of the building was broken down, forming an archway. A weak torchlight could be seen just inside. It smelled of decay and garbage, but not more so than everything else. </p><p></p><p>"This is where he ran into after he bumped into me," Nihil explained. "He seemed to know exactly where he was going."</p><p></p><p>"Alright." Moving in front to check for possible traps, Tibunn eyed the torch first, but it seemed to be just a normal, cheap torch which might burn for another hour or two. He noticed the astonished looks from the others and shrugged sheepishly. "I've been taking lessons, too."</p><p></p><p>"You mean you hooked up with the local thieves' guild to learn about traps and tricks?" Nihil shook his head and a finger. "Don't let Ahna know."</p><p></p><p>"Adventurer's guild!" Tibunn corrected, moving on carefully. "And I suggest we better be quiet now." </p><p></p><p>In the meantime, Viril and Yuja had arrived at the Arcane Library, which was distinct from the library at Morgrave University, and much smaller. On their way, they had thought of using the university's library as well, but decided to try here first as planned. </p><p></p><p>They had run into a little problem because the librarian was sceptic of both the psi crystal and allowing a mystic – easily recognizable by her aura, as he assured Yuja – to access the library. Mystics were, after all, known for "stuff just happening around them." Yuja, who had had little idea about this, not even knowing her abilities had a name, was luckily able to assure him that little had ever happened around her, and explained she was not trained and it was the first time she heard about it. Asides, she was dragonmarked. The librarian was even so nice to give her a list of people she could contact to find out more about it. </p><p></p><p>Upon hearing what they were looking for, the elderly man lead them to a room which had a working model of the skies of both hemispheres. It looked similar like the 3d presentation in the psi crystal at first look, but there were notable differences. For one, there were details the crystal's presentation of Sharn was lacking. Nebulas, comets, stars with constellations marked, meteor clusters and more. Not only did everything have names and numbers under it, it was moving! </p><p></p><p>They were told the library had similar working models for several planes, arcane power points and more. Also, when you touched anything in the model (more like putting your finger – or nose, as Yuja found out – in, it would give you one or more glowing lines to follow through the library to relevant works about it.</p><p></p><p>Virlíl was completely taken by this, and it was a while before he stopped oohing and aaahing and Yuja could get him back to the issue at hand. She had had no idea Viril was so interested in astronomy, but as he now told her, it was something he had done with one of his great grandfathers when he was young and the interest had never left. Sharn, he complained, was usually too well lit even at night to see anything cool though, unless you paid for the use of the observatory, which Viril could currently not afford. </p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Back in the swamp, the party had, very carefully, climbed the stairs in the tower, avoiding slipping on the moss or tumbling over some rubble from damaged stairs. The doors to the landing on the next floor were open, if not completely, and they could see a little dim light filtering out of the area behind it. For a moment they stopped, listening for any signs of danger. Aside from some faint sounds reminding them of dropping water or rolling rubble, they could hear nothing. </p><p></p><p>Ahna slipped to the front to stand next to Lorraine. The gnome, being much lower to the ground, peeked around the door for a few seconds, then waved to the others. "It's an empty room, save for a collection of statues. Quite the curious collection, actually. And very life like. I would very much like to meet the artist." The paladin disappeared into the room. Lorraine, looking back down the stairs for a moment to see if they were followed by chance, went in behind her. </p><p></p><p>In Quavin's mind, an alarm bell began to ring. It took him a few precious seconds to remember what was striking him the wrong way but then it clicked for him. "Be careful," he cried out. "There might be a..."</p><p></p><p>Right then, a shrill shriek could be heard from behind the door, followed by an alarmed cry of the paladin. "Cockatrice!" Lorraine shouted. A swooshing sound and then a thump, and a moment later, the severed head of the beast came bouncing down the stairs. The displacer beast purred and patted at it with his paws playfully, but with such a force the head flew to the other side of the tower, where it hit the wall with a sickening crunch before falling down with another sickening splash. "Eww," the druid commented. </p><p></p><p>"Man, that was close," Quavin sighed. "A room full of life-like statues, alright." He couldn't help but chuckle, but then Lorraine's worried voice drifted out to them. "I think we have a problem..."</p><p></p><p>That turned out to be somewhat of an understatement. As everyone rushed into the room with the 'statues' they almost toppled over the new one in the likeness of a gnome paladin with one hand at her rear end where she had been bitten after being ambushed from behind. She was bent slightly forward, and so was not very stable to begin with. </p><p></p><p>"Oh ye gods," the orc cried out. "Is she dead?"</p><p></p><p>"No, just petrified. Like everyone else in here." Quavin pointed to the 'statues' of an orc, several ravens and bats, a few goblins in interesting positions, a youg bear, a snake, undead – even a skeleton - a ragged looking ogre and a few goblins in weird looking positions. "It's reversible, if you can afford the right spell or ritual."</p><p></p><p>"I wonder how heavy she is now?" The bard wasn't sure if to be worried or amused. "Good it wasn't you Lorraine, you'd be much harder to carry."</p><p></p><p>"It might be worse that it is Ahna." Quavin tested the weight of the statue. "Because the spells for reversing this are well beyond my knowledge, even as a ritual, and the components are very expensive. Paying someone for it would be even worse. I'm sure Lorraine's House would have paid for it, though. But even with the treasure we found in the commander's quarters, we will need a long time to get the coin."</p><p></p><p>A shocked silence fell. Just Lorraine wasn't too concerned. "Really, it would be a lot worse if that was me. Explaining my presence here and possible political implications if the doings of an as yet unknown party of my House came to light could cause some people to decide I was better left in stone. Well, there is nothing to be done now, so I suggest we hurry on."</p><p></p><p>"You want to leave Ahna here?" Filburas eyes seemed to want to come out of their sockets. </p><p></p><p>"You don't expect us to carry her around, do you?" Quavin asked. "It'll be hard enough getting her downstairs and out of the swamp once we're done here." </p><p></p><p>There was no arguing the simple logic, but the gnome still looked unhappy. "Why can't her god just turn her right again? She's a paladin, after all!"</p><p></p><p>Zolan frowned. "That's not how gods operate, exactly, unlike someone is really crucial to their plans, but the question isn't bad. Maybe something can be done the divine way, just not in here." The poison atmosphere of the area would soon require them to use another potion, and they were getting short in supplies, even taking Ahna out of the equation. </p><p></p><p>"Keep going up, or check out this level first?" the bard asked. </p><p></p><p>"This level," Lorraine suggested. "We can come back here to rest and use the statues to block both doors to be save." She didn't mention that it felt less like abandoning their friend; it seemed a silly thought. </p><p></p><p>The only other door out of the room was hard to open, and it led into the open air. They were now standing on the cross section the tower walkway running around both towers, facing the other tower. None of them had seen a tower design like that before. The wind was blowing stronger up here, but not strong enough to get rid of the poison in the air. Lorraine coughed and wondered if the potions were losing their effectiveness. </p><p></p><p>Right across the door was an iron cage door set into the tower wall. They could see rotten straw and what looked to be dead guard dogs in a large kennel behind it. A part of the kennel seemed to have been turned into a roost for some large birds, but there were neither bird remains not live birds to be seen. Carefully walking around the larger tower, they found no other entrance into it. "Whoever was in charge of room design probably got his license from some golem school," Filbura joked. </p><p></p><p>"It's probably meant to confuse possible invaders. Works with us but hasn't helped them much." Zolan pointed back to where they came from. "Let's continue upward, nothing here really and we still have some daylight."</p><p></p><p>Daylight it might have been, but the marsh was gloomy to begin with, and the tower only had slits for windows so the magical light was very much needed, more than earlier. The room they finally emerged in was obviously the old clock tower. Parts of the clockwork, wooden beams and rubble that had come down and a lot of tools made the room a hazard in itself. There were no stairs to the next level; they had obviously arrived at a dead end. </p><p></p><p>Lorraine opened her mouth to suggest retreating, when the rubble began to move and various sorts of undead, mostly zombies and skeletons, emerged from the ruined room. It almost looked as if someone had been storing them here. It didn't take a genius to conclude that they had at least found one of the sources of the undead plague. </p><p></p><p>"Zolan!" Lorraine cried out while she hacked apart the zombie that had emerged right in front of her. "Can you turn them?"</p><p></p><p>"All of them?" The orc paled. "Not a chance, asides, where would they go? The effect would be lost in a few moments." He, too, engaged a zombie and then ducked back into the safety of the door. "And it looks like they would follow us down."</p><p></p><p>A soft song, almost mocking, drifted into the room from behind them, accompanied by the music of a harp. They recognized it – The Zombie and the Barmaid – and the flood of undead that was about to rush over them slowed down considerably. They looked to be almost frozen in time where they were closest, and just barely slower in the back of the room. The elf bard motioned her head for them to pass her down the stairs. Everyone but the orc and his human friend hurried to do as suggested. The two of them stayed to hack apart the first two rows before they felt too tired and began their retreat to the lower levels. "How long is this spell holding?" the orc gasped. </p><p></p><p>"Probably a few minutes," Quavin replied. "Not enough for us to get to the bottom of the stairs. Even considering those things are generally slower than us."</p><p></p><p>"To the room with the statues, then, as planned," Lorraine ordered, and everyone, including the bard who had stopped singing, followed. Moreelle looked pale and tired, and Quavin had to catch her so she would not stumble on her way down. Close to the next landing, he handed her to Ti'ir who let the woman more or less ride on her. Then he turned around. The whole way down, his anger and fear had caused his hair to sparkle and stand to all sides, and small sparks were flowing from his fingers as well now. His magic was building up, uncontrolled by him as he had already exhausted himself today. Hew could not follow his friends into the statue room this way or he might end up causing a disaster. But out here, he might be able to do something good instead.</p><p></p><p>While he couldn't control the building blast, he could direct it somewhat. And as fire almost always went up, he was sure the undead would suffer significant losses. "One moment," he shouted to the others. Then he let go of any control, just pushing the raw magic away from himself and the door his friends were waiting behind. In a roar of flame, accompanied by sizzling lightning, the inside of the stairwell became an inferno flashing up through the dimness. The dead moss clinging to the walls helped matters along, too. </p><p></p><p>The Lyandar outcast stumbled backwards, intend on reaching the door to safety. But this act of arcane fury had, even if not controlled, taken more power from him that he had left. He felt a rush of cold coming over him, and a numbness of mind and body. Before he could say anything, the world around him turned dark and he crashed to the floor, half into the room and half outside. </p><p></p><p>Lorraine and Zolan dragged him in quickly, and closed the door. "What happened? He's alive, isn't he?" Lorraine stared at the pale face, uncomprehending what had happened. </p><p></p><p>"He'll be alright." Zolan checked the vital signs. He knew in this situation, his little healing magic would do no good. "He overcasted. Even if he wasn't in control, really, the energy needed was the same." </p><p></p><p>"Overcasted?" Lorraine was about to ask a lot of questions about this, but Moreelle shook her head. "Forget it for now, Thing is, he will need a lot of rest. So do I. So do all of us, I guess." Her voice sounded very weak indeed. </p><p></p><p>Zolan was already busy moving the 'statues' – all but Ahna's – while he grunted his consent. He needed a few attempts and Loraine's and even Filbura's help to secure the doors. Moreelle set up a base camp in the meantime – their sleeping bags and some extra covers for the cold mainly – while the displacer beast started patrolling the room, just in case. "She says we should sleep until it is dark, then she will wake whoever smells fittest to take over," Filbura explained as Ti'ir' hissed and purred at them. </p><p></p><p>"Sounds good to me," Moreelle whispered, already in her bag. A second later, she was already asleep and the others were not far behind her. </p><p></p><p><strong>TBC</strong></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Lwaxy, post: 5991508, member: 53286"] Thanks for reading ;) ------------------------------------------- There was nothing in the corridor on the next level except an old, mostly rotten tapestry showing a bear hunt and a hardly recognizable painting of a duel. Some mold of the harmless type was visible here and there on the fine marble floor, and thanks to the damaged roof there were some slippery spots where the rain had come in and some sort of algae were thriving. The corridor made a right turn and lead towards a door before going left. "This door first so we have nothing in our backs?" the paladin asked. "I'd suggest checking out the sounds first," Zolan suggested instead. "Don't you hear that?" Now that he mentioned it, the others could hear the faint sounds of scraping and rustling. It came from where the corridor went left. "Sounds like insects," the druid guessed. Following the sounds, they came to where the corridor went left once more. To their right hand in the corner was a badly damaged, half open door. Before anyone could stop him, Zolan poked his head in. "Spiders it is," he announced as he withdrew. "Some big, nasty, black ones with angry green markings on their backs. Looks poisonous. And it looks like they are eating a zombie." "Whatever eats zombies is our friend," Ti'ir decided. "Let's leave them well enough alone until they come at us. Unless there is anything of interest in that room?" "Not that I could see. But then, there were a lot of webs." "There is more noise. Some flapping." Ahan pointed down the corridor. The displacer beast hissed. It sounded almost dismissive. "She says it's just bats, and small ones," Filbura translated. "Great, then, back to the first door. I have a feeling some revelation is waiting there." Lorraine pointed with her sword and went to see if she could open the door. "You mean like where all the undead come from?" Filbura closed the door to the spider room a bit more before she followed. "More like what happened here. This was at least partly a magical attack." The fighter found the door to be open, but stuck, so she started pulling. "Indeed." Quavin pointed at scorch marks and other signs which were, at first sight, easily missed. "And it doesn't look like this all happened during the Last War either." "More recent, yes, and I..." Lorraine couldn't finish her sentence, as the door opened and everyone immediately noticed the red glowing eyes in the dimness of a room with shut windows. A gust of cold and dust drifted into the corridor, and as nothing happened, the party began to notice other details. Hunting trophies, including a rotten snarling brown bear posed to stand up, a boar with a bored expression and a snake with glittering glass yes, were on the floor and on the walls. Turned over chairs and a broken table were lying half rotten on the floor. A skeleton construct was posed in front of the only other door out of the room. It had the red eyes they had noticed, and they were staring right at them. "Bone golem," Lorraine whispered. "Often used for training, and the commands for it are always the same." Stepping inside, she lifted her sword and called out "Alabaster." Immediately, the thing stepped aside and into a corner. "Alabaster?" the paladin chuckled. "Well, it can't very well be something easy to try like 'stand down' now, can it?" The fighter sounded a bit peeved. "As long as it worked." "Indeed." Quavin sighed. "Anything is better than fighting everything we come across." "Looks this was once the trophy chamber and office of the commander." Lorraine pointed her sword at the closed door. "Which probably means we'll find his quarters there." "Nothing here to tell us what has transpired." Quavin, who had been checking out the room holding up the light high, frowned at the rat-eaten trophies and mold eaten papers. "We can just hope the commander had a private log or something." "They usually do." Lorraine opened the door to what looked like a sitting room. It opened surprisingly smoothly and didn't even squeak. "Some protective magic on the door,I guess." Another set of red eyes stared at them from one of the moldy armchairs. "Another bone golem? They seem to love them." Filbura frowned. But the displacer beast howled in alarm. "Not a bone golem." The light in here was somewhat better, if still dim. The paladin took up a defensive position in front of the others and next to Lorraine. "This looks to be a bog mummy." Indeed, the glowing eyes belonged to a brownish colored body that must have rested in the marsh ground for quite some time. It seemed to be male, and the rusty sword in its hands looked more than a bit threatening as it got up and, with a creaking sound of its joints, came forward. The intent to attack was obvious. "Whoever he was when he was alive, time in the bog hasn't done him any favors," Zolan chuckled. "Can you two handle it?" Lorraine replied by stepping forward,catching the rusty sword of the mummy with ease, disarming the thing. Unfortunately, undead didn't care if they were armed or not, and this one was no difference. With a creaking sound, the arms of the thing stretched out to wrap around Lorraine's neck. Trying to catch her balance from almost falling over something unseen on the floor, the woman knew she could not duck the attack. Fortunately, just before the arms made contact, they were separated from the mummy's body and clunked to the ground. Then the head of the abomination went flying as well. "Yup,we can handle it," a grinning paladin announced. "How can you stay so calm in the presence of these things?" Filbura busted out. "They are so unnatural, they really make me feel all wobbly." "Me, too," the elven bard admitted. Ahna looked at them with piercing blue eyes in that 'paladin on a mission' way as Zolan loved to call it. "We'll be seeing a lot of things like this one in the future," she said sternly. "When we decided to take on adventuring, we all knew what this would entail, at least the basics of it, no? While we may not all be motivated by wanting to be champions of valor - or even heroes known at least in Sharn - but instead want birthrights back and to live in the luxury of Houses again, we all should be clear that this is no garden party. We'll battle with evil most of the way, be assured, so instead of giving in to fears and worries, we need to employ our inner strength, even humor, to deal with the situation. Some day, one of us might not make it. And the last thing the survivors would need is falling victim to emotions where a clear head a logic are in order!" Everyone else except Lorraine, including the displacer beast, stared at the gnome. "Right, then," Zolan finally coughed. "But you can forgive us if at one point of the other some of us don't live up to your paladinish standards,yes?" Lorraine, who had checked out the mostly empty room and found nothing, was already moving towards doors likely leading into the bedchambers. "Are you going to stand there all day giving and listening to lessons of morale, or can we get on with this?" [I]"In my time, I've seen many an adventurer party give up," a middle aged woman who looked like an archer with her strong arms and piercing stare, said. "That's the other part of adventuring most people don't get. It's not a game, and while you can have fun and excitement, the tragedies that may happen need to be kept in mind." A few others nodded and said words of agreement, while a few young folks mumbled among themselves, looking a bit worried. Possible future adventurers, no doubt. The storyteller smiled and nodded, continuing her story. [/I] "The party indeed came into a once luxurious, oak paneled bedroom, the left over furniture as useless and moldy as all other things they had found until now. What was remarkable though was the mostly skeleton body on the ground next to the rotten canopy bed. It was of an armed and armored man bearing the symbol of House Deneith and stripes marking him as the garrison commander. A faint magic glow, even visible to those with no magic abilities, surrounded the remains, which explained why the unfortunate commander had not joined the undead forces. "Someone put a powerful blessing on the body," Zolan mused. "Probably because they had no way to come back and bury him properly." "This is curious." Lorraine inspected the body closely, careful not to touch anything. "Something wrong?" the orc asked. "Yeah, you could say that. He's been killed by a throwing axe." Lorraine pointed to the blade still embedded in one of the ribs. "Someone tried to save him, but he likely lost too much blood." "What's so unusual about that?" "Look at the blade more closely," Lorraine said darkly. Before Zolan could do so, Moreelle whistled. "The blade has House Deneith markings." Indeed, now that it had been pointed out, the others could barely make out the etched Deneith symbol in the middle of the blade. "So you think he has been killed by one of his own?" Lorraine shook her head. "There are many factions in our house, as I'm sure there are in all others. Rivalry is more or less open. And sometimes, although this is hardly ever admitted to, those rivalries can take deadly turns." "So, another faction of Deneith is responsible for the attack? How many factions are there, and which one did this man belong to? Or the attackers?" Filbura's eyes had gone wide. House Kundarak had its own rivalries, sure, but save some poison every once in a while, they did not usually take such violent turns. "That, I cannot know," Lorraine admitted. "I need to find more information." Looking around the room, she frowned, seemingly lost in thoughts. "And then, of course," the paladin cautioned, "is always the possibility the killer just took the weapon of one of the defenders." "Good point. But then doesn't the intact bone golem support the theory of Deneith killers?" Quavin mused. "Yeah..." Ahna admitted, not liking the idea to be drawn into house politics. "In any case, we can't get past this magic to bury the man, if we could even get him out. And he's well enough protected, so I suggest we let dead commanders lie," Zolan offered. "Definitely." Ahna began checking out the room in assistance of the displacer beast, who was sniffing at the rotten furniture, and Filbura and the bard who seemed to need to take their minds off the dead body for now. "Here it is." Lorraine sounded triumphant, and a squeaking noise made everyone turn towards her. Behind the canopy bed, a secret panel was swinging open ever so slowly, the mechanism damaged by decay. "Many commanders have secret chambers for the monetary stuff and, of course, the more important papers." The small chamber behind was glowing in a faint magic light, too, but Quavin quickly asserted that it was just a stasis field to protect documents. There were a few small chests and scroll cases, and most important to Lorraine a box with well sorted papers in binders. She grabbed them quickly, stowing them away in her backpack. "Time to go through them is when we are out. Take the rest, don't bother to look. It's the treasury most likely, and we can examine that later, too. In the name of my house, I claim treasure and papers for us," she formally added, just in case there was additional protective magic. "Can we get out now? This was the last floor save the towers, yes?" Filbura had already retreated to the bedroom door. "Yeah the rest of the place needs to be accessed from elsewhere. Just clean out this floor, and then we need to find a way into the towers, and check the basement. The undead plague must come from somewhere," Ahna reminded them. Fortunately, save the bats in a room otherwise empty and a zombie giant snake in the old dueling room at the end of the corridor – which was dealt with quickly enough – there was nothing more of interest. As they were about to retreat again, Lorraine insisted on barricading the stairs with the plenty of rotten furniture and broken on walls. "Lest we want to find new infestations on the morrow. I doubt we can finish the job today, we are all exhausted." It was barely early afternoon, but the others agreed. While it was exhausting them even more to place barricades, it was certainly better than going through the floors for another time. They also took the time to check if anything had moved in since they had come through, but they were lucky. They also found the badly concealed doors to the towers and wondered how they had missed it the first time. Finally, they stood in the entrance hall again. Anti poison potions were handed around once more, and they began discussing further actions. They could go up the spiral stairs to the towers or they could check out the basement. Both options meant something could sneak up to them from the other side. With a bit or reluctance, they decided to block the stairs to the basement with a barely rotten cupboard from the entrance hall. With the toppled over thing blocking the stairs, mindless undead would be kept down, and even those who had somewhat of a mind would have their issues. It would of course not be that easy to remove the blockade again but they were sure they could manage once they had rested. Rest, however, was not on the menu yet. They could at least get up the stairs and to level 4, which they thought served as a base for the towers. A weird way to construct a stronghold, maybe, especially as it had not helped much to keep invaders confused. It made for all the more running up and down while they were already having some troubles catching their breath. "Maybe we can find a save place to rest up there," Lorraine offered. "Once we cleared the other levels out, save the spiders and bats it would have made a better place than sleeping in the swamp." "Not better than staying in the hut," Zolan grimaced. But he, as all the others, followed Lorraine up, with Ahna bringing up the rear. At roughly the same time, back in Sharn, a frustrated Viril was staring intently at the 3D map they had gotten from law enforcement. Another spot had just lit up on the map, indicating the vampire killer had found a new victim. "There is a pattern in all this, I just know it," the wannabe private eye mumbled, more to himself as everyone else was a bit tired of him repeating it over and over. "Maybe it includes the time of day the murders happen?" Hopeful, he started to write down details on a scrap of paper. "Yeah," Yuja, who was balancing on her chair with a cup of coffee in her hand opposite the half-elf said automatically, not really listening. "Hey, look at that! They have finally tracked down the suppliers of the red ale and the black beer. Ahna will be happy to hear about it?" "Huh?" Irritated about being interrupted, the fat half-elf looked up at her. "Ale, Beer?" "Really, where have you been? Ahna has been going on about this drug connection for quite a while. Supposedly, the red ale and the black wine make you all happy happy joy joy but open you up for suggestions and spells and servants of the Dark Six have been using this as a way to gain followers or, at least sacrifices. It has been quite the talk of Sharn recently." "I see." Viril was running his hands through his hair. "I don't pay that much attention when Ahna is in one of her super paladin moods. I just turn her out," he admitted. "Yeah, we do the same when you go on about the investigation for more than an hour, of if you keep repeating yourself like in the last 15 minutes." She downed the brown liquid and grinned at her friend. "Tell you what, let's start anew with this. Maybe it is not the dates of the killings, it is the position only. We know some attacks failed, and the murderer came back later to kill someone else, at a different time." "Good point." Viril pushed the piece of paper away. "But the locations seem so random, all over Sharn in a long period of time." "Maybe we can't see a pattern yet because there are not enough victims? Like in those connect the dot games," Yuja suggested, shifting her equally overweight form to a more comfortable position. "You usually need to see at least half the dots and be good in it to know what will come of it." "Huh!" Viril shook his head in worry. "That'd be an awful lot of murders." "We might just not be good in it and the vampire is almost done," the girl offered. "In any case, this is 3-dimensional. Harder to see, especially since we don't know what direction we need to look at it from." "Huh!" Viril shouted again. "I never thought of that. I just assumed down was down, and where the information was placed was front." "Down is probably really down, unless the killer is truly messed up." Getting up to get more coffee, the girl tried to look at the image from all sides. "And it is an overlay over the city. I know we took that out before, maybe we should again and then hit the arcane library with it." "What? Why? Do you think the killer is a mage?" "Maybe, but I was more thinking about this all being some sort of rituals or one big ritual or whatever, or maybe a star chart of sorts. Where else to find out about that than in the arcane library?" "Ah." Viril's face lit up visibly. "Why didn't we think of that earlier?" "It's only been 2 days," Yuja laughed. "Of course we need some time to process it. The law has been on it for month with no results." She didn't mention that the law had probably already had arcane help, as she needed to do something else but sit here and listen to her friend complain. "Maybe we should take our oracle, too?" "She's not yet back. That fair she was invited to read at, remember? Will be a few hours." "Alright, then. Let's go. Maybe when the others are all back, we have some more info to go by." As they were making their way out of the front door, the back door - leading to a balcony for the whole complex lit by a timed daylight spell - opened with a squeak into the small sitting room. Tibunn, Feyan and Nihil rushed in after making sure no one else was in there. "Do you think it is a good idea to do this on our own?" Tibunn asked, starting, like the others, to gather his equipment from his room after putting down groceries and other things they had just bought. Nihil ignored the look and checked the positions of his knives. "This is a chance for me to gain favor with my House again." "Someone stole a few messages you don't even know what they might contain, you remember being run over by the thief in the description and think you kn ow where he lives – but you aren't sure." Despite his doubts, Tibunn was already dressed up for a hunt. "Hey," Feyan jumped in. "I lost an important document for my House, and everyone was quite angry. so I can imagine his House would be glad to get the messages back. It's a matter of reliability." "Exactly." The bard looked ready to go after he had tucked away his small crossbow. "The reward is substantial enough to make me think something important was in those messages, too." "Yeah, I admit, a 100 gold just for giving information about the guy seems a lot." The thief wannabe was ready now, too. "But I wonder that they didn't post any information about what they would pay if you bring the guy or the messages." "Most people would probably not bother with someone stealing others' mail," Feyan grinned. "Nothing really heroic about it. That's what Sharn has a law enforcement for." "Which in turn relies on adventurers like us to work properly anyway, so we are all good," Nihil pointed out. "And we can leave the guy to the guards, all I want is the bag with the messages." "We get it, we get it. Let's go, then, and tell us in detail how the guy ran into you, and where. Seems like a lot of luck." Feyan left a quick note on the back of their shopping list to state they were 'on a small job and back soon.' "Well..." There was no way around it, so the bard began his slightly tuned down tale about his chance meeting with someone from the bottom part of Sharn's society. " "[I]So the gnome didn't learn," a stern woman in the audience shook her head. "After the matchmaking disaster he should have known better." "When do gnomes ever know better?" a dwarf grinned. "Hey, we always know better!" A young gnome bard jumped on a chair and struck a few heroic notes. "We just tend to believe better is boring!" As the laughter of the audience died down, the storyteller continued. [/I]"As they made their way down into the lower levels of the great city, they listened to the bard's story about meeting an outcast bard on one of the lower taverns while searching for some more unsavory type of songs to add to his repertoire. The man was wanted on the upper levels for slighting one noble or the other, or so he had said, but was happy enough living the way he did. And he had kept his promise of not only teaching new songs but also some new spells, always complimenting Nihil on his voice and arcane potential. One afternoon, Nhil had again lost his way and found himself on a level where hardly anyone lived but some ratmen – who were friendly enough towards a bard to point him in the right direction. Shortly after, the thief of the messages ran into him and knocked the bard against a wall, not even looking back. The description – tall black haired man with a red dragon tattoo on his forehead, left eye missing, a pronounced limp – was so obvious he couldn't forget him. Which was a good thing because today he had seen the wanted notice on the market. "Are you sure you even find the place again? And ratmen? I am sure they are not generally friendly to strangers." The doubtful expression just wouldn't leave the halfling's pale face. "The area down there is generally dangerous, I'm surprised you didn't run into trouble yet." "I did... a few times. But having a few friends down there by now has helped," the bard admitted. "Anyway, yes, I can find the place again. I left some arcane marks only me can see under normal circumstances to guide me." "You learned how to do that? Very nice, will come in handy if we ever have to go into the sewers again, or any sort of dungeon." For the first time, the expression of the halfling softened and he shook his head so his blue locks were flying about him. "I have had a few nightmares about being stuck in a sewer maze without a hint how to get out." "Me, too," the gnome admitted before he could catch himself. "But," he quickly added, "that was some time ago." The lower areas of Sharn are a hive of scum and villany, but not only. A lot of the denizens there simply have no other choice but to live there, for various reasons, and try to make the best of it. Dirty and run down and dark does barely begin to describe it, but if you made up your mind, you can see beyond the filth and notice that life, there, is not that much different than anywhere else. The same way you'd find that in a palace of shining light and many fine things there is the same sort of treachery and greed as in any other place in the world. They had been down in those places before, of course, when they had recovered the schema. At that time, though, they hadn't known what to expect. Now they did. The low levels of the tower the bard was leading them to seemed to be flooded with beggars usually begging on higher up levels, dark figures shooting looks at them and the occasional scream or wild laughter here and there. None of them spoke until they finally arrived at what almost looked to be a cave entrance. Half the wall of the building was broken down, forming an archway. A weak torchlight could be seen just inside. It smelled of decay and garbage, but not more so than everything else. "This is where he ran into after he bumped into me," Nihil explained. "He seemed to know exactly where he was going." "Alright." Moving in front to check for possible traps, Tibunn eyed the torch first, but it seemed to be just a normal, cheap torch which might burn for another hour or two. He noticed the astonished looks from the others and shrugged sheepishly. "I've been taking lessons, too." "You mean you hooked up with the local thieves' guild to learn about traps and tricks?" Nihil shook his head and a finger. "Don't let Ahna know." "Adventurer's guild!" Tibunn corrected, moving on carefully. "And I suggest we better be quiet now." In the meantime, Viril and Yuja had arrived at the Arcane Library, which was distinct from the library at Morgrave University, and much smaller. On their way, they had thought of using the university's library as well, but decided to try here first as planned. They had run into a little problem because the librarian was sceptic of both the psi crystal and allowing a mystic – easily recognizable by her aura, as he assured Yuja – to access the library. Mystics were, after all, known for "stuff just happening around them." Yuja, who had had little idea about this, not even knowing her abilities had a name, was luckily able to assure him that little had ever happened around her, and explained she was not trained and it was the first time she heard about it. Asides, she was dragonmarked. The librarian was even so nice to give her a list of people she could contact to find out more about it. Upon hearing what they were looking for, the elderly man lead them to a room which had a working model of the skies of both hemispheres. It looked similar like the 3d presentation in the psi crystal at first look, but there were notable differences. For one, there were details the crystal's presentation of Sharn was lacking. Nebulas, comets, stars with constellations marked, meteor clusters and more. Not only did everything have names and numbers under it, it was moving! They were told the library had similar working models for several planes, arcane power points and more. Also, when you touched anything in the model (more like putting your finger – or nose, as Yuja found out – in, it would give you one or more glowing lines to follow through the library to relevant works about it. Virlíl was completely taken by this, and it was a while before he stopped oohing and aaahing and Yuja could get him back to the issue at hand. She had had no idea Viril was so interested in astronomy, but as he now told her, it was something he had done with one of his great grandfathers when he was young and the interest had never left. Sharn, he complained, was usually too well lit even at night to see anything cool though, unless you paid for the use of the observatory, which Viril could currently not afford. Back in the swamp, the party had, very carefully, climbed the stairs in the tower, avoiding slipping on the moss or tumbling over some rubble from damaged stairs. The doors to the landing on the next floor were open, if not completely, and they could see a little dim light filtering out of the area behind it. For a moment they stopped, listening for any signs of danger. Aside from some faint sounds reminding them of dropping water or rolling rubble, they could hear nothing. Ahna slipped to the front to stand next to Lorraine. The gnome, being much lower to the ground, peeked around the door for a few seconds, then waved to the others. "It's an empty room, save for a collection of statues. Quite the curious collection, actually. And very life like. I would very much like to meet the artist." The paladin disappeared into the room. Lorraine, looking back down the stairs for a moment to see if they were followed by chance, went in behind her. In Quavin's mind, an alarm bell began to ring. It took him a few precious seconds to remember what was striking him the wrong way but then it clicked for him. "Be careful," he cried out. "There might be a..." Right then, a shrill shriek could be heard from behind the door, followed by an alarmed cry of the paladin. "Cockatrice!" Lorraine shouted. A swooshing sound and then a thump, and a moment later, the severed head of the beast came bouncing down the stairs. The displacer beast purred and patted at it with his paws playfully, but with such a force the head flew to the other side of the tower, where it hit the wall with a sickening crunch before falling down with another sickening splash. "Eww," the druid commented. "Man, that was close," Quavin sighed. "A room full of life-like statues, alright." He couldn't help but chuckle, but then Lorraine's worried voice drifted out to them. "I think we have a problem..." That turned out to be somewhat of an understatement. As everyone rushed into the room with the 'statues' they almost toppled over the new one in the likeness of a gnome paladin with one hand at her rear end where she had been bitten after being ambushed from behind. She was bent slightly forward, and so was not very stable to begin with. "Oh ye gods," the orc cried out. "Is she dead?" "No, just petrified. Like everyone else in here." Quavin pointed to the 'statues' of an orc, several ravens and bats, a few goblins in interesting positions, a youg bear, a snake, undead – even a skeleton - a ragged looking ogre and a few goblins in weird looking positions. "It's reversible, if you can afford the right spell or ritual." "I wonder how heavy she is now?" The bard wasn't sure if to be worried or amused. "Good it wasn't you Lorraine, you'd be much harder to carry." "It might be worse that it is Ahna." Quavin tested the weight of the statue. "Because the spells for reversing this are well beyond my knowledge, even as a ritual, and the components are very expensive. Paying someone for it would be even worse. I'm sure Lorraine's House would have paid for it, though. But even with the treasure we found in the commander's quarters, we will need a long time to get the coin." A shocked silence fell. Just Lorraine wasn't too concerned. "Really, it would be a lot worse if that was me. Explaining my presence here and possible political implications if the doings of an as yet unknown party of my House came to light could cause some people to decide I was better left in stone. Well, there is nothing to be done now, so I suggest we hurry on." "You want to leave Ahna here?" Filburas eyes seemed to want to come out of their sockets. "You don't expect us to carry her around, do you?" Quavin asked. "It'll be hard enough getting her downstairs and out of the swamp once we're done here." There was no arguing the simple logic, but the gnome still looked unhappy. "Why can't her god just turn her right again? She's a paladin, after all!" Zolan frowned. "That's not how gods operate, exactly, unlike someone is really crucial to their plans, but the question isn't bad. Maybe something can be done the divine way, just not in here." The poison atmosphere of the area would soon require them to use another potion, and they were getting short in supplies, even taking Ahna out of the equation. "Keep going up, or check out this level first?" the bard asked. "This level," Lorraine suggested. "We can come back here to rest and use the statues to block both doors to be save." She didn't mention that it felt less like abandoning their friend; it seemed a silly thought. The only other door out of the room was hard to open, and it led into the open air. They were now standing on the cross section the tower walkway running around both towers, facing the other tower. None of them had seen a tower design like that before. The wind was blowing stronger up here, but not strong enough to get rid of the poison in the air. Lorraine coughed and wondered if the potions were losing their effectiveness. Right across the door was an iron cage door set into the tower wall. They could see rotten straw and what looked to be dead guard dogs in a large kennel behind it. A part of the kennel seemed to have been turned into a roost for some large birds, but there were neither bird remains not live birds to be seen. Carefully walking around the larger tower, they found no other entrance into it. "Whoever was in charge of room design probably got his license from some golem school," Filbura joked. "It's probably meant to confuse possible invaders. Works with us but hasn't helped them much." Zolan pointed back to where they came from. "Let's continue upward, nothing here really and we still have some daylight." Daylight it might have been, but the marsh was gloomy to begin with, and the tower only had slits for windows so the magical light was very much needed, more than earlier. The room they finally emerged in was obviously the old clock tower. Parts of the clockwork, wooden beams and rubble that had come down and a lot of tools made the room a hazard in itself. There were no stairs to the next level; they had obviously arrived at a dead end. Lorraine opened her mouth to suggest retreating, when the rubble began to move and various sorts of undead, mostly zombies and skeletons, emerged from the ruined room. It almost looked as if someone had been storing them here. It didn't take a genius to conclude that they had at least found one of the sources of the undead plague. "Zolan!" Lorraine cried out while she hacked apart the zombie that had emerged right in front of her. "Can you turn them?" "All of them?" The orc paled. "Not a chance, asides, where would they go? The effect would be lost in a few moments." He, too, engaged a zombie and then ducked back into the safety of the door. "And it looks like they would follow us down." A soft song, almost mocking, drifted into the room from behind them, accompanied by the music of a harp. They recognized it – The Zombie and the Barmaid – and the flood of undead that was about to rush over them slowed down considerably. They looked to be almost frozen in time where they were closest, and just barely slower in the back of the room. The elf bard motioned her head for them to pass her down the stairs. Everyone but the orc and his human friend hurried to do as suggested. The two of them stayed to hack apart the first two rows before they felt too tired and began their retreat to the lower levels. "How long is this spell holding?" the orc gasped. "Probably a few minutes," Quavin replied. "Not enough for us to get to the bottom of the stairs. Even considering those things are generally slower than us." "To the room with the statues, then, as planned," Lorraine ordered, and everyone, including the bard who had stopped singing, followed. Moreelle looked pale and tired, and Quavin had to catch her so she would not stumble on her way down. Close to the next landing, he handed her to Ti'ir who let the woman more or less ride on her. Then he turned around. The whole way down, his anger and fear had caused his hair to sparkle and stand to all sides, and small sparks were flowing from his fingers as well now. His magic was building up, uncontrolled by him as he had already exhausted himself today. Hew could not follow his friends into the statue room this way or he might end up causing a disaster. But out here, he might be able to do something good instead. While he couldn't control the building blast, he could direct it somewhat. And as fire almost always went up, he was sure the undead would suffer significant losses. "One moment," he shouted to the others. Then he let go of any control, just pushing the raw magic away from himself and the door his friends were waiting behind. In a roar of flame, accompanied by sizzling lightning, the inside of the stairwell became an inferno flashing up through the dimness. The dead moss clinging to the walls helped matters along, too. The Lyandar outcast stumbled backwards, intend on reaching the door to safety. But this act of arcane fury had, even if not controlled, taken more power from him that he had left. He felt a rush of cold coming over him, and a numbness of mind and body. Before he could say anything, the world around him turned dark and he crashed to the floor, half into the room and half outside. Lorraine and Zolan dragged him in quickly, and closed the door. "What happened? He's alive, isn't he?" Lorraine stared at the pale face, uncomprehending what had happened. "He'll be alright." Zolan checked the vital signs. He knew in this situation, his little healing magic would do no good. "He overcasted. Even if he wasn't in control, really, the energy needed was the same." "Overcasted?" Lorraine was about to ask a lot of questions about this, but Moreelle shook her head. "Forget it for now, Thing is, he will need a lot of rest. So do I. So do all of us, I guess." Her voice sounded very weak indeed. Zolan was already busy moving the 'statues' – all but Ahna's – while he grunted his consent. He needed a few attempts and Loraine's and even Filbura's help to secure the doors. Moreelle set up a base camp in the meantime – their sleeping bags and some extra covers for the cold mainly – while the displacer beast started patrolling the room, just in case. "She says we should sleep until it is dark, then she will wake whoever smells fittest to take over," Filbura explained as Ti'ir' hissed and purred at them. "Sounds good to me," Moreelle whispered, already in her bag. A second later, she was already asleep and the others were not far behind her. [B]TBC[/B] [/QUOTE]
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