Archon Basileus
First Post
@Greenmtn, sorry for the delay, no Ki needed! Action totally needed, though, hehehe. Also, @Neurotic, I'm assuming it does, given the nature of the dungeon and the closeness of the structures. I see no reason to limit it, in other words!]
The heroes leave the half-sunken chamber behind as they crawl through the passage. The last sounds are the fading voices of the prisoners, openly discussing whether the heroes will actually return or not before deteriorating into a scattered debate about their roles in that place. It seems such dialogues are all that is left for them.
Despite the restraints of the path, even the tallest among the heroes can pass without much trouble. They have to crouch all the way through, though, and Thulwar's stature becomes quite the advantage, as does Lyllie's. As the metallurgist takes point protected by his mechanic servant, he easily discerns a similar stone seal guarding the other end of the passage. Imitating Yttrian's gesture, Thulwar wastes no time pushing the contraption inside, causing the seal to slide in a similar manner to the first one.
The passage opens to another hall, and for the first time since their departure, the heroes grasp the magnitude of their objective. The room, now a chamber in ruins, is similar to the first one in size. Unlike it, though, it holds a precise, geometric shape to itself, as if it was chiseled from stone by an army of dedicated dwarven stonemasons. The radial perfection of the room has been disturbed by the passage of time, though, as it lies in ruins, surrounded by large cobwebs and broken in several areas. Columns have fallen, inner walls and sections - it seems this hall had half-walls inside - have crumbled due to the action of time and, as a final testament to the strife lived in these chambers, part of the floor collapsed, leading to a mow of unending darkness that plummets much beyond what could be considered the pavement of the cave. The place was once richly decorated by banners on all walls, hanging beneath the busts of prototypical specimens of sentient races, seven in in total. Now they lay, torn as ghosts, underneath the whiteness of silk produced by generations of spiders. Between these, old frescos depict the conquests of elfic and dwarven heroes, human kings and draconian princes, denizens of the underworld and silvan races, heavens and hells in shock. One last depiction shows the advent of the Teraphim, their true forms hidden behind their distinctive sets of armor, as they do battle against a wealth of enemies, all vanished by time's merciless influence.
The maps collected at the library do not lie: this was the Entente's Circle, an underground palace that greeted travelers to the Sanctum. Many a nobleman visited these corridors in the earlier days of the Teraphim, seeking blessings and holding court before the messengers of the gods. Legend has it that the most skilled among them were invited to live along the Teraphim. Some went back and ruled as wise kings and prophets - such as the Dukes of Wellington did once, before their fall.
Despite the impressive view, this is not what concerns the heroes, for the room is taken by fire pits and noisy campers. The sound of pickaxes resound against the stone and the rude laughs of soldiers explode from the spots of light that litter the floor. Orcs. Goblins. The greenskins took the area for themselves, squatting around as they feed, drink and command a band of poor slaves to dig through the distant northeastern wall. Their numbers are great, and it seems more of them are moving through the eastern door, which rests wide open. The explosion of rude voices cursing, yelling and laughing at each other, along with the clinging of metal against the rock, are enough to obscure the signs of the heroes' arrival. Sliding out of the passage, all heroes are about forty feet above the mass and confusion of the encampment, remaining unnoticed so far.
MAP UPDATED
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1EprfJl2xm_JM7K2VZ59EMtydVJIBjK1ZMDetVr2LoEo/edit#gid=0
@Greenmtn @Charwoman Gene @JustinCase @Shayuri @hafrogman @industrygothica @Neurotic
The heroes leave the half-sunken chamber behind as they crawl through the passage. The last sounds are the fading voices of the prisoners, openly discussing whether the heroes will actually return or not before deteriorating into a scattered debate about their roles in that place. It seems such dialogues are all that is left for them.
Despite the restraints of the path, even the tallest among the heroes can pass without much trouble. They have to crouch all the way through, though, and Thulwar's stature becomes quite the advantage, as does Lyllie's. As the metallurgist takes point protected by his mechanic servant, he easily discerns a similar stone seal guarding the other end of the passage. Imitating Yttrian's gesture, Thulwar wastes no time pushing the contraption inside, causing the seal to slide in a similar manner to the first one.
The passage opens to another hall, and for the first time since their departure, the heroes grasp the magnitude of their objective. The room, now a chamber in ruins, is similar to the first one in size. Unlike it, though, it holds a precise, geometric shape to itself, as if it was chiseled from stone by an army of dedicated dwarven stonemasons. The radial perfection of the room has been disturbed by the passage of time, though, as it lies in ruins, surrounded by large cobwebs and broken in several areas. Columns have fallen, inner walls and sections - it seems this hall had half-walls inside - have crumbled due to the action of time and, as a final testament to the strife lived in these chambers, part of the floor collapsed, leading to a mow of unending darkness that plummets much beyond what could be considered the pavement of the cave. The place was once richly decorated by banners on all walls, hanging beneath the busts of prototypical specimens of sentient races, seven in in total. Now they lay, torn as ghosts, underneath the whiteness of silk produced by generations of spiders. Between these, old frescos depict the conquests of elfic and dwarven heroes, human kings and draconian princes, denizens of the underworld and silvan races, heavens and hells in shock. One last depiction shows the advent of the Teraphim, their true forms hidden behind their distinctive sets of armor, as they do battle against a wealth of enemies, all vanished by time's merciless influence.
The maps collected at the library do not lie: this was the Entente's Circle, an underground palace that greeted travelers to the Sanctum. Many a nobleman visited these corridors in the earlier days of the Teraphim, seeking blessings and holding court before the messengers of the gods. Legend has it that the most skilled among them were invited to live along the Teraphim. Some went back and ruled as wise kings and prophets - such as the Dukes of Wellington did once, before their fall.
Despite the impressive view, this is not what concerns the heroes, for the room is taken by fire pits and noisy campers. The sound of pickaxes resound against the stone and the rude laughs of soldiers explode from the spots of light that litter the floor. Orcs. Goblins. The greenskins took the area for themselves, squatting around as they feed, drink and command a band of poor slaves to dig through the distant northeastern wall. Their numbers are great, and it seems more of them are moving through the eastern door, which rests wide open. The explosion of rude voices cursing, yelling and laughing at each other, along with the clinging of metal against the rock, are enough to obscure the signs of the heroes' arrival. Sliding out of the passage, all heroes are about forty feet above the mass and confusion of the encampment, remaining unnoticed so far.
MAP UPDATED
https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1EprfJl2xm_JM7K2VZ59EMtydVJIBjK1ZMDetVr2LoEo/edit#gid=0
@Greenmtn @Charwoman Gene @JustinCase @Shayuri @hafrogman @industrygothica @Neurotic
