Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Jon Potter said:Well, we won't be visitting any para-elemental planes any time soon. Salt water, on the other hand...![:]](http://www.enworld.org/forum/images/smilies/devious.png "Devious :]")
Hmm..... ships or flooded rooms?
or Both! Oh, and I updated my sig. I hope you don't mind.
-
NOW LIVE! Into the Woods--new character species, eerie monsters, and haunting villains to populate the woodlands of your D&D games.
The Realms of Enlightenment: The Grey Companions
- Thread starter Jon Potter
- Start date
Hmm..... ships or flooded rooms?
or Both! Oh, and I updated my sig. I hope you don't mind.
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:Hmm..... ships or flooded rooms?
You guessed it! It's a return to the days of old when nobody asked how they got the galleon into the bottom of the dungeon or what the dragon eats way down on level twenty.
Oh, and I updated my sig. I hope you don't mind.
I must say, "I'm flattered!"
And as a thank you gesture, I'll post another update.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #358] The Scroll Room and Beyond
Unsurprisingly, next to the chill larder and across the corridor from the grisly dining room they'd discovered earlier, they found a hellishly hot kitchen. The floor was crusty with dried blood and rusty hooks and gore-soaked butcher blocks predominated and none of them was eager to discover what was cooking in the mammoth oven that loomed over the place from a shadowy recess in the far wall.
"Should I go check it out?" Lela asked hesitantly.
"No," Morier replied. "I'm pretty confident that they wouldn't hide the keys in the kitchen." As they turned around and headed back down the hall, Huzair snorted derisively and shook his head.
"Tell me again why we're looking in all these rooms and not actually searching them," he muttered but nobody heard him or cared to answer.
The next place they discovered reminded Shamalin of the Holy Writing room back in Floxen. Except that it felt anything but holy. It was dark and had a rather unusual smell. Racks upon racks of scrolls reached from floor to ceiling lining three full walls. In the center of the room one scroll was displayed, framed tight and apparently in the final stages of completion. It's creamy surface glowed pink with an inner light that illuminated the red lettering and made it appear almost wet. Shamalin felt an odd sense of awe as she circled the scroll slowly, studying it from various angles.
As she studied it more closely she saw that the unfurled scroll wasn't finished; it was held in the frame not for display but to keep the prepared skin from shrinking. Shamalin knew little about the making of parchment, but she did know that it started with a piece of hide not unlike this one. And what she'd taken for writing was actually red stitching that seemed to zig-zag haphazardly across the skin. But there was something... strange...
Karak harrumphed, tearing her attention away. "What language be this?" he grumbled loudly. "Nothing I can read, to be sure." He shoved a scroll back into its place and looked around the room critically.
"I cannot read it either," Ayremac admitted, looking expectantly at Shamalin. But she was studying the framed scroll once more.
"Wait. There's something..." Her voice trailed off, uncertain.
Morier stepped closer to the scroll, his hand resting on Ravager's hilt. "What is it?"
"This stitching..." Shamalin whispered, "I think it's moving!"
"What?" Lela asked. She landed on Karak's shoulder as the dwarf crowded close to the piece of hide. "I don't see anything."
"Nor do I," Karak muttered and started to step away.
"No. She's right," Morier said. "It's different now than when I first looked at it. But now it's..." He squinted critically at the stitching.
"Look away," Ayremac instructed. "Then look back." They all did it and several surprised gasps issued from the group. "It only changes when you're not looking."
"Nice!" Huzair hissed appreciatively. "But what's it mean?"
No one had an answer to that one.
"I can pray tomorrow for the ability to Comprehend Languages," Shamalin offered. "Then we can come back and take a look at these scrolls again."
It wasn't a very satisfying solution to the mystery, but it was the only one they had.
The final unexplored room on that level was a treasure chamber or trophy room of sorts. An open chest overflowing with large golden coins of a mint that none of them recognized was on the left of the door and three stone pedestals - each surrounded by an inlaid ring of silvery runes - were evenly spaced along the long wall. Atop each of the three pedestals was a silver box and the Order moved eagerly forward, triggering all three Explosive Runes traps nearly simultaneously.
Unsurprisingly, next to the chill larder and across the corridor from the grisly dining room they'd discovered earlier, they found a hellishly hot kitchen. The floor was crusty with dried blood and rusty hooks and gore-soaked butcher blocks predominated and none of them was eager to discover what was cooking in the mammoth oven that loomed over the place from a shadowy recess in the far wall.
"Should I go check it out?" Lela asked hesitantly.
"No," Morier replied. "I'm pretty confident that they wouldn't hide the keys in the kitchen." As they turned around and headed back down the hall, Huzair snorted derisively and shook his head.
"Tell me again why we're looking in all these rooms and not actually searching them," he muttered but nobody heard him or cared to answer.
The next place they discovered reminded Shamalin of the Holy Writing room back in Floxen. Except that it felt anything but holy. It was dark and had a rather unusual smell. Racks upon racks of scrolls reached from floor to ceiling lining three full walls. In the center of the room one scroll was displayed, framed tight and apparently in the final stages of completion. It's creamy surface glowed pink with an inner light that illuminated the red lettering and made it appear almost wet. Shamalin felt an odd sense of awe as she circled the scroll slowly, studying it from various angles.
As she studied it more closely she saw that the unfurled scroll wasn't finished; it was held in the frame not for display but to keep the prepared skin from shrinking. Shamalin knew little about the making of parchment, but she did know that it started with a piece of hide not unlike this one. And what she'd taken for writing was actually red stitching that seemed to zig-zag haphazardly across the skin. But there was something... strange...
Karak harrumphed, tearing her attention away. "What language be this?" he grumbled loudly. "Nothing I can read, to be sure." He shoved a scroll back into its place and looked around the room critically.
"I cannot read it either," Ayremac admitted, looking expectantly at Shamalin. But she was studying the framed scroll once more.
"Wait. There's something..." Her voice trailed off, uncertain.
Morier stepped closer to the scroll, his hand resting on Ravager's hilt. "What is it?"
"This stitching..." Shamalin whispered, "I think it's moving!"
"What?" Lela asked. She landed on Karak's shoulder as the dwarf crowded close to the piece of hide. "I don't see anything."
"Nor do I," Karak muttered and started to step away.
"No. She's right," Morier said. "It's different now than when I first looked at it. But now it's..." He squinted critically at the stitching.
"Look away," Ayremac instructed. "Then look back." They all did it and several surprised gasps issued from the group. "It only changes when you're not looking."
"Nice!" Huzair hissed appreciatively. "But what's it mean?"
No one had an answer to that one.
"I can pray tomorrow for the ability to Comprehend Languages," Shamalin offered. "Then we can come back and take a look at these scrolls again."
It wasn't a very satisfying solution to the mystery, but it was the only one they had.
The final unexplored room on that level was a treasure chamber or trophy room of sorts. An open chest overflowing with large golden coins of a mint that none of them recognized was on the left of the door and three stone pedestals - each surrounded by an inlaid ring of silvery runes - were evenly spaced along the long wall. Atop each of the three pedestals was a silver box and the Order moved eagerly forward, triggering all three Explosive Runes traps nearly simultaneously.
Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Jon Potter said:
Ach! Definately a dungeoneering faux pas!
Jon Potter said:
I love these things!
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:Ach! Definately a dungeoneering faux pas!
I think that - other than Huzair - the party was operating with a smash-and-grab philosophy. They were looking for "The Keys" and rightly assumed that they wouldn't be hidden in a random drawer. They were looking in the rooms just enough to say, "Nope. Not in here." before moving on.
Random looting ain't their thing. They're not the typical adventuring group in that regard.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #359a] Once More into the Depths
"Oi!" Karak grumbled, picking himself off the floor, capturing in one syllable the sentiments of half the party.
"Should have seen that coming," Morier confided. He dragged his thumb under his nose and it came away wet with blood.
"It was stupid of us," Ayremac agreed. He stood and offered his hand to Shamalin, practically dragging the cleric to her feet.
"Brilliant use of a spell, I must say," Huzair muttered as he got to his own feet, using his shortspear like a walking stick to lever himself up. "Explosive Runes, by the way. Fairly nasty, but it's harmless now that it's triggered." Saying thus he moved closer and opened the first box. Inside was a triangle of blue cloth carefully folded to display a rearing horse worked in silver thread.
"Huh," Ayremac muttered as he looked over Huzair's shoulder. He extended a hand and traced the rampant gelding. "That's the symbol of Ibrahil, God of Justice."
"Seems an odd fit for a dungeon dedicated to Ayphx," Huzair observed as he carefully unfurled the fabric. It was clearly a banner such as one might see fluttering at the head of an army on the march.
"Gimme that poker o' yers," Karak grumbled as he reached for Huzair's spear. "We'll string up the banner an' see what she looks like."
"And leave me without a weapon?" the mage protested, trying unsuccessfully to wrench the spear free of Karak's hand. "Why don't you string it on your waraxe if you're so intent on it?" The dwarf regarded him queerly.
"Because I can nae swing me axe with a flag attached to it," he stated. "Are ye daft?"
"And I won't be able to use my spear either, in that case," Huzair argued and Karak easily jerked the shortspear from his hands.
"And when was the last time ye used this or any other weapon in battle?" the dwarf snorted shaking his head as he began to thread the banner onto the wooden shaft.
Morier, meanwhile had opened the second box, revealing a pair of plain metal bracers within. The eldritch warrior removed them and slipped them on readily, hoping secretly for some sort of extra magical protection to keep him from being a magnet for every blade in combat. He could feel the armbands' magic coursing through his body, but he didn't feel any more difficult to hit than he did before putting them on. Frowning he experimented a bit and without really trying very hard, he was able to jump from one side of the room to the other in a single fantastic leap.
"Some kind of Armbands of Jumping," Huzair stated the obvious, but still managed to sound like he was sharing great wisdom with the group.
"Those could come in handy," Lela grinned, her smile wide.
"And last we have this," Ayremac said, drawing forth from the third silver box a chalice that seemed to be carved from a single piece of milky-colored crystal.
"Oi, now that's a thing ye do nae see every day," Karak said, setting aside his flag and taking the goblet from the holy warrior. Holding the cup high he intoned, "Give me a cold dwarven ale!" Unfortunately, the cup remained empty.
"Maybe it needs to be filled with liquid first. Hold it up again," Lela suggested, hovering just at the lip of the cup she called on the Green (which, she noted was somewhat difficult in this place, as if it weren't actually on Orune at all), filling the chalice with pure water. "Aqua Crea!"
Karak brought the cup down so that he could see into it and some of the water sloshed over the rim and ran onto the floor. "Give me a healing draught!" he urged, and drained the cup in nearly one gulp. But the water remained just water and he scowled. "Mayhaps we'll have to do a bit more experimentin' with this later," he suggested, offering the goblet back to Ayremac.
"I guess that just leaves the gold," Huzair said, indicating the overflowing chest. " The chest won't fit, but, if we all work together I think we can get all the gold inside by Handy Haversack pretty quickly."
Shamalin busied herself with healing up injuries while the others began to gather up handfuls of the reddish gold coins and dump them into Huzair's magic bag. Morier picked one up and looked at it critically; he'd never seen its like before, and moreover he didn't think anybody else in the Realms ever had either. Its mint was totally unfamiliar. On one face was inscribed a sort of stylized star with an eye in the center while the other side bore an oval, broken at either end, with something in the middle like a tower or monolith of jagged lines; or perhaps it was meant to represent a stylized tree.
Before he had time to inspect it further, he noticed the burning tingle in his fingertips where he'd handled the coin. He recognized the sensation: poison! At once, he cast it down and knocked the coins from the others' hands in a flurry of motion, but it was too late. They'd all felt the cursed sting of the poisonous metal.
"Maybe we should just leave this here," Huzair suggested as he carefully poured out all the coins with which he'd just so happily loaded himself up.
"Aye. Let's head back downstairs and see what awaits us there," Karak suggested, through clenched teeth. No one noticed the stiffness in the dwarf's gait or the way his arms seemed to droop as he walked. And Karak certainly wouldn't admit that he, a dwarf, had been badly effected by poison.
"Oi!" Karak grumbled, picking himself off the floor, capturing in one syllable the sentiments of half the party.
"Should have seen that coming," Morier confided. He dragged his thumb under his nose and it came away wet with blood.
"It was stupid of us," Ayremac agreed. He stood and offered his hand to Shamalin, practically dragging the cleric to her feet.
"Brilliant use of a spell, I must say," Huzair muttered as he got to his own feet, using his shortspear like a walking stick to lever himself up. "Explosive Runes, by the way. Fairly nasty, but it's harmless now that it's triggered." Saying thus he moved closer and opened the first box. Inside was a triangle of blue cloth carefully folded to display a rearing horse worked in silver thread.
"Huh," Ayremac muttered as he looked over Huzair's shoulder. He extended a hand and traced the rampant gelding. "That's the symbol of Ibrahil, God of Justice."
"Seems an odd fit for a dungeon dedicated to Ayphx," Huzair observed as he carefully unfurled the fabric. It was clearly a banner such as one might see fluttering at the head of an army on the march.
"Gimme that poker o' yers," Karak grumbled as he reached for Huzair's spear. "We'll string up the banner an' see what she looks like."
"And leave me without a weapon?" the mage protested, trying unsuccessfully to wrench the spear free of Karak's hand. "Why don't you string it on your waraxe if you're so intent on it?" The dwarf regarded him queerly.
"Because I can nae swing me axe with a flag attached to it," he stated. "Are ye daft?"
"And I won't be able to use my spear either, in that case," Huzair argued and Karak easily jerked the shortspear from his hands.
"And when was the last time ye used this or any other weapon in battle?" the dwarf snorted shaking his head as he began to thread the banner onto the wooden shaft.
Morier, meanwhile had opened the second box, revealing a pair of plain metal bracers within. The eldritch warrior removed them and slipped them on readily, hoping secretly for some sort of extra magical protection to keep him from being a magnet for every blade in combat. He could feel the armbands' magic coursing through his body, but he didn't feel any more difficult to hit than he did before putting them on. Frowning he experimented a bit and without really trying very hard, he was able to jump from one side of the room to the other in a single fantastic leap.
"Some kind of Armbands of Jumping," Huzair stated the obvious, but still managed to sound like he was sharing great wisdom with the group.
"Those could come in handy," Lela grinned, her smile wide.
"And last we have this," Ayremac said, drawing forth from the third silver box a chalice that seemed to be carved from a single piece of milky-colored crystal.
"Oi, now that's a thing ye do nae see every day," Karak said, setting aside his flag and taking the goblet from the holy warrior. Holding the cup high he intoned, "Give me a cold dwarven ale!" Unfortunately, the cup remained empty.
"Maybe it needs to be filled with liquid first. Hold it up again," Lela suggested, hovering just at the lip of the cup she called on the Green (which, she noted was somewhat difficult in this place, as if it weren't actually on Orune at all), filling the chalice with pure water. "Aqua Crea!"
Karak brought the cup down so that he could see into it and some of the water sloshed over the rim and ran onto the floor. "Give me a healing draught!" he urged, and drained the cup in nearly one gulp. But the water remained just water and he scowled. "Mayhaps we'll have to do a bit more experimentin' with this later," he suggested, offering the goblet back to Ayremac.
"I guess that just leaves the gold," Huzair said, indicating the overflowing chest. " The chest won't fit, but, if we all work together I think we can get all the gold inside by Handy Haversack pretty quickly."
Shamalin busied herself with healing up injuries while the others began to gather up handfuls of the reddish gold coins and dump them into Huzair's magic bag. Morier picked one up and looked at it critically; he'd never seen its like before, and moreover he didn't think anybody else in the Realms ever had either. Its mint was totally unfamiliar. On one face was inscribed a sort of stylized star with an eye in the center while the other side bore an oval, broken at either end, with something in the middle like a tower or monolith of jagged lines; or perhaps it was meant to represent a stylized tree.
Before he had time to inspect it further, he noticed the burning tingle in his fingertips where he'd handled the coin. He recognized the sensation: poison! At once, he cast it down and knocked the coins from the others' hands in a flurry of motion, but it was too late. They'd all felt the cursed sting of the poisonous metal.
"Maybe we should just leave this here," Huzair suggested as he carefully poured out all the coins with which he'd just so happily loaded himself up.
"Aye. Let's head back downstairs and see what awaits us there," Karak suggested, through clenched teeth. No one noticed the stiffness in the dwarf's gait or the way his arms seemed to droop as he walked. And Karak certainly wouldn't admit that he, a dwarf, had been badly effected by poison.
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Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #360] Pillow Talk
Once back downstairs, they returned to the time-honored "Dwarven Method" of exploration - moving systematically to the right whenever such an opportunity arose.
The hallway turned only once before ending in a cul-de-sac with three doors: one in the right hand wall, one at the end of the hall and a third directly across from the first. The first thing they noticed about the doors was that they were a different construction than the others they'd seen within the complex so far. They were made of wood and bound tightly with iron bands etched everywhere with a motif of leaves and twining vines.
After the usual examination of the door, Karak opened it and proceeded inside with his waraxe ready. Beyond was a crypt with enshrouded skeletons in niches lining three of the four walls. A raised plinth holding another desiccated corpse dominated the center of the room. The droning buzz of flies overlaid everything.
The dwarf took another step into the room, followed closely by Morier and Ayremac. A meaty paw slapped down on Karak's back from behind the open door, injuring the dwarf not at all. Ayremac reacted quickly, slamming his morningstar into the thing - which quickly revealed itself as another of the flesh pillows like most of the group had faced and defeated back on their second foray to Miller's Pond. Like that other horror, this one was surrounded by a cloud of immense black flies, and as the holy warrior stepped up to smack the thing, one of the insects tried to land in his mouth. He spat it out in disgust and took a step back.
Morier stepped into it at once, slashing the thing with a massive uppercut from Ravager. The blade rent the pillow asunder, releasing a torrent of foul-smelling puss and wriggling maggots onto the eldritch warrior. He felt his gorge rising, but managed to fight down the urge to vomit even as a trio of Magic Missiles thudded into the monstrosity, dropping it into a noisome heap on the floor.
Out in the hallway, Huzair looked very pleased with himself as he lit up a cigar and grinned at the albino. Before he could celebrate too much, the door behind him opened and another of the pillowy thing's lurched out. The mage was able to avoid the clumsy attack long enough for Karak, Ayremac and Morier to surround the thing.
It didn't survive long after that.
"Look here," Lela chirped. "This repeating symbol's been purposely defaced." She pointed at a line of carved stone that ran around the base of the crypt walls. Some sort of graven image there had been systematically marred.
"What is that?" Morier asked as he peered at the stone. "A heart?"
"I think it WAS an acorn," the sprite told him. "Somebody went to a lot of effort to deface it, whatever it is."
"Some of these other, surrounding symbols are reminiscent of images I've seen in Brogine's temples," Shamalin added and Ayremac looked where she was pointing.
"You're right," he said. "I saw that same geometric pattern on a frieze in the Temple of Winter's Triumph in Frothingham. And now that you mention it, Shamalin, a lot of this symbology looks like Brogine's."
"Could it be Dridana?" Morier asked expectantly. "Isn't she referred to as Beast's Twin in one of the poems Ledare was always poring over?" Ayremac rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, Brogine is the god of wild beasts," the holy warrior told him. "And there are several instances where I've seen him referred to as 'The Twin'. But I've never read any documentation that mentions who his other twin might be. Personally I was always taught that it referenced his twin nature as both predator and prey."
"I was taught something similar at my temple," Shamalin nodded. "But what you say about Dridana makes a great deal of sense, too."
"I wish the Great Oak was here," Lela mused. "He'd know what it all means."
"But he's not here," Morier observed sadly. "And without further insight, I suggest we move on." He started for the door but Karak stopped him, angling a thumb at the massive stone platform with its crown of dessicated bones.
"I'd like to try movin' that block o' stone," the dwarf suggested. "Mayhaps there be somethin' hidden beneath it."
"Like a key?" Lela observed brightly and Karak shrugged.
"It can't hurt to try," Ayremac said setting down his shield and weapon. Together he and Karak and Morier were able to move block enough to see that there was nothing hidden beneath it.
Discouraged, they moved to the hallway and the door at the end of the corridor. Like the doors to the two burial chambers, this one was different than most of the others they'd seen - wooden and lacking any of the thorny spikes that predominated elsewhere. Huzair stepped up to examine the door, noticing a fine sprinkling of silver dust as he did so. What that might mean, no one knew, but the mage pronounced the door free of traps and Karak's boot opened it without difficulty.
The stench of rot slammed into them like a cold, wet slap across the face and the dwarf covered his nose with his hand, his face screwed up in disgust.
"Wizard, ye'd best stand down wind o' the rest of us!" he cursed. "Ye stink like a troll's arse!" Huzair laughed mockingly.
"Leave it to Karak to know what a troll's ass smells like!" he quipped. "It shouldn't really surprise me, I guess. You're at the right height for it, after all." He patted the dwarf on top of his helmet, then dodged back as Karak turned, teeth bared.
"It isn't any of us who stink," Ayremac told them, disarming the situation as he moved into the room. "It's these pools."
He was right. The room beyond was square, about 25 feet on a side with a five foot wide pathway leading from the door to a five foot ledge that ran the length of the opposite wall. To the right and left the floor dropped away with steep ramps leading down from the pathway to the main floor, two on each side. Between the ramps were round pools filled with rotting slime. It was from them that the stench was emanating.
They moved in and conducted a quick search, but found nothing too noteworthy other than more of the defaced symbols they had seen in the previous rooms. No one was willing to stick their arm into the pool, so Lela called on The Green to Purify the Water. She was not able to affect the entire pool, but a crystal clear cylinder of water appeared in the center of it. Before the purified water was completely clouded by the surrounding corruption, Lela was able to see that the pool was perhaps four feet deep with steps leading down from the edge of the pool to the bottom.
"Like a bath," Huzair suggested. "They have similar pools in the bathhouses in Farmin." Karak harrumphed and Morier muttered under his breath something about Huzair's experiences in bathhouses.
"Well I don't think anyone would want to take a bath in that!" Ayremac hypothesized, his face screwed up in disgust.
"Perhaps there is some magic at work here," Shamalin suggested and Lela gave a nod.
"I can check," she said, taking a deep breath to draw on her natural ability to Detect Magic. She concentrated, but noticed nothing apart from the numerous auras surrounding the other members of The Order. Then something attracted her attention off to the side; a thin seam in the back wall of the chamber was glowing.
"Nothing magical in the pools, but there's something here," she told the others as she fluttered over to the crack. "Transmutation magic. Strong, too."
Karak stumped over and looked at the spot she'd indicated. His face became thoughtful as he looked. "This be new stonework," he said, running a hand up the seam. He tapped on the wall and paced off a spot ten feet wide. "This whole section's been added within the last few years, I reckon. The workmanship be nae as good as the rest o' this place."
"Is it a secret door?" Morier asked, as he felt along the surface of the wall for some sort of catch. Karak shook his head.
"It looks to be a wall, not a door," the dwarf told him. "I reckon there's somethin' behind this door what somebody di' nae want us to find."
"Like a key!" Lela sparkled and this time Karak nodded.
"Aye, wee on," he said as he carefully set aside his waraxe and drew out his little-used warhammer. "Like a key."
Lela called on The Green to empower Karak's muscles and swollen with the extra Strength of a Bull, he went to work on the wall. His hammer blows echoed deafeningly about the room, but the wall quickly collapsed into a pile of broken rubble around the dwarf's feet.
Beyond was revealed a shallow alcove dominated by a solid-looking door. In the center of the door was set a circular plaque divided into four equal sections. Inside each section was a symbol for one of the elements: earth, fire, air and water.
"The four that are all," Morier hissed, his voice heavy with excitement.
"So this is what we've been looking for?" Huzair asked, skeptical.
"I think so," Morier said. "The Water Guardian told me that there were four keys, each of which would grant power over one of the four elements, and that we'd need all four to free Dridana's Heart." He stretched out a hand and touched the circular symbol.
"You'll never get passed me, foul spawn of the pit!" screamed a stone face that appeared in the wall beside the large door. It looked like an old man, wizened and bearded, and its stone eyes regarded the group with anger. "You're not worthy to pass beyond and no amount of-" It paused, looking over the group again and its features softened.
"I'm sorry," it said with a tentative smile. "Do I know you?"
Once back downstairs, they returned to the time-honored "Dwarven Method" of exploration - moving systematically to the right whenever such an opportunity arose.
The hallway turned only once before ending in a cul-de-sac with three doors: one in the right hand wall, one at the end of the hall and a third directly across from the first. The first thing they noticed about the doors was that they were a different construction than the others they'd seen within the complex so far. They were made of wood and bound tightly with iron bands etched everywhere with a motif of leaves and twining vines.
After the usual examination of the door, Karak opened it and proceeded inside with his waraxe ready. Beyond was a crypt with enshrouded skeletons in niches lining three of the four walls. A raised plinth holding another desiccated corpse dominated the center of the room. The droning buzz of flies overlaid everything.
The dwarf took another step into the room, followed closely by Morier and Ayremac. A meaty paw slapped down on Karak's back from behind the open door, injuring the dwarf not at all. Ayremac reacted quickly, slamming his morningstar into the thing - which quickly revealed itself as another of the flesh pillows like most of the group had faced and defeated back on their second foray to Miller's Pond. Like that other horror, this one was surrounded by a cloud of immense black flies, and as the holy warrior stepped up to smack the thing, one of the insects tried to land in his mouth. He spat it out in disgust and took a step back.
Morier stepped into it at once, slashing the thing with a massive uppercut from Ravager. The blade rent the pillow asunder, releasing a torrent of foul-smelling puss and wriggling maggots onto the eldritch warrior. He felt his gorge rising, but managed to fight down the urge to vomit even as a trio of Magic Missiles thudded into the monstrosity, dropping it into a noisome heap on the floor.
Out in the hallway, Huzair looked very pleased with himself as he lit up a cigar and grinned at the albino. Before he could celebrate too much, the door behind him opened and another of the pillowy thing's lurched out. The mage was able to avoid the clumsy attack long enough for Karak, Ayremac and Morier to surround the thing.
It didn't survive long after that.
"Look here," Lela chirped. "This repeating symbol's been purposely defaced." She pointed at a line of carved stone that ran around the base of the crypt walls. Some sort of graven image there had been systematically marred.
"What is that?" Morier asked as he peered at the stone. "A heart?"
"I think it WAS an acorn," the sprite told him. "Somebody went to a lot of effort to deface it, whatever it is."
"Some of these other, surrounding symbols are reminiscent of images I've seen in Brogine's temples," Shamalin added and Ayremac looked where she was pointing.
"You're right," he said. "I saw that same geometric pattern on a frieze in the Temple of Winter's Triumph in Frothingham. And now that you mention it, Shamalin, a lot of this symbology looks like Brogine's."
"Could it be Dridana?" Morier asked expectantly. "Isn't she referred to as Beast's Twin in one of the poems Ledare was always poring over?" Ayremac rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
"Well, Brogine is the god of wild beasts," the holy warrior told him. "And there are several instances where I've seen him referred to as 'The Twin'. But I've never read any documentation that mentions who his other twin might be. Personally I was always taught that it referenced his twin nature as both predator and prey."
"I was taught something similar at my temple," Shamalin nodded. "But what you say about Dridana makes a great deal of sense, too."
"I wish the Great Oak was here," Lela mused. "He'd know what it all means."
"But he's not here," Morier observed sadly. "And without further insight, I suggest we move on." He started for the door but Karak stopped him, angling a thumb at the massive stone platform with its crown of dessicated bones.
"I'd like to try movin' that block o' stone," the dwarf suggested. "Mayhaps there be somethin' hidden beneath it."
"Like a key?" Lela observed brightly and Karak shrugged.
"It can't hurt to try," Ayremac said setting down his shield and weapon. Together he and Karak and Morier were able to move block enough to see that there was nothing hidden beneath it.
Discouraged, they moved to the hallway and the door at the end of the corridor. Like the doors to the two burial chambers, this one was different than most of the others they'd seen - wooden and lacking any of the thorny spikes that predominated elsewhere. Huzair stepped up to examine the door, noticing a fine sprinkling of silver dust as he did so. What that might mean, no one knew, but the mage pronounced the door free of traps and Karak's boot opened it without difficulty.
The stench of rot slammed into them like a cold, wet slap across the face and the dwarf covered his nose with his hand, his face screwed up in disgust.
"Wizard, ye'd best stand down wind o' the rest of us!" he cursed. "Ye stink like a troll's arse!" Huzair laughed mockingly.
"Leave it to Karak to know what a troll's ass smells like!" he quipped. "It shouldn't really surprise me, I guess. You're at the right height for it, after all." He patted the dwarf on top of his helmet, then dodged back as Karak turned, teeth bared.
"It isn't any of us who stink," Ayremac told them, disarming the situation as he moved into the room. "It's these pools."
He was right. The room beyond was square, about 25 feet on a side with a five foot wide pathway leading from the door to a five foot ledge that ran the length of the opposite wall. To the right and left the floor dropped away with steep ramps leading down from the pathway to the main floor, two on each side. Between the ramps were round pools filled with rotting slime. It was from them that the stench was emanating.
They moved in and conducted a quick search, but found nothing too noteworthy other than more of the defaced symbols they had seen in the previous rooms. No one was willing to stick their arm into the pool, so Lela called on The Green to Purify the Water. She was not able to affect the entire pool, but a crystal clear cylinder of water appeared in the center of it. Before the purified water was completely clouded by the surrounding corruption, Lela was able to see that the pool was perhaps four feet deep with steps leading down from the edge of the pool to the bottom.
"Like a bath," Huzair suggested. "They have similar pools in the bathhouses in Farmin." Karak harrumphed and Morier muttered under his breath something about Huzair's experiences in bathhouses.
"Well I don't think anyone would want to take a bath in that!" Ayremac hypothesized, his face screwed up in disgust.
"Perhaps there is some magic at work here," Shamalin suggested and Lela gave a nod.
"I can check," she said, taking a deep breath to draw on her natural ability to Detect Magic. She concentrated, but noticed nothing apart from the numerous auras surrounding the other members of The Order. Then something attracted her attention off to the side; a thin seam in the back wall of the chamber was glowing.
"Nothing magical in the pools, but there's something here," she told the others as she fluttered over to the crack. "Transmutation magic. Strong, too."
Karak stumped over and looked at the spot she'd indicated. His face became thoughtful as he looked. "This be new stonework," he said, running a hand up the seam. He tapped on the wall and paced off a spot ten feet wide. "This whole section's been added within the last few years, I reckon. The workmanship be nae as good as the rest o' this place."
"Is it a secret door?" Morier asked, as he felt along the surface of the wall for some sort of catch. Karak shook his head.
"It looks to be a wall, not a door," the dwarf told him. "I reckon there's somethin' behind this door what somebody di' nae want us to find."
"Like a key!" Lela sparkled and this time Karak nodded.
"Aye, wee on," he said as he carefully set aside his waraxe and drew out his little-used warhammer. "Like a key."
Lela called on The Green to empower Karak's muscles and swollen with the extra Strength of a Bull, he went to work on the wall. His hammer blows echoed deafeningly about the room, but the wall quickly collapsed into a pile of broken rubble around the dwarf's feet.
Beyond was revealed a shallow alcove dominated by a solid-looking door. In the center of the door was set a circular plaque divided into four equal sections. Inside each section was a symbol for one of the elements: earth, fire, air and water.
"The four that are all," Morier hissed, his voice heavy with excitement.
"So this is what we've been looking for?" Huzair asked, skeptical.
"I think so," Morier said. "The Water Guardian told me that there were four keys, each of which would grant power over one of the four elements, and that we'd need all four to free Dridana's Heart." He stretched out a hand and touched the circular symbol.
"You'll never get passed me, foul spawn of the pit!" screamed a stone face that appeared in the wall beside the large door. It looked like an old man, wizened and bearded, and its stone eyes regarded the group with anger. "You're not worthy to pass beyond and no amount of-" It paused, looking over the group again and its features softened.
"I'm sorry," it said with a tentative smile. "Do I know you?"
Hairy Minotaur
Explorer
Jon Potter said:
Bi-polar Galeb Duhr?
Jon Potter
First Post
Hairy Minotaur said:
It's a Grandfather Plaque, actually. The 3.5 update is in the Dragon Compendium hardcover. This guy's a little more unique than the one presented there, however.
Jon Potter
First Post
[Realms #361] Grandfather Plaque's Tale
"No, I don't suppose I do," it added quickly, its features settling into a benign smile. "I don't know much of anyone anymore. At least not anyone worth knowing."
Shamalin glanced at the others, certain that she would find consternation on their faces. The stone image was speaking in elvish, and she knew that there were some within the group who did not speak that tongue. What she noticed instead, was that each of her companions wore a look of curious understanding. And in the next moment she realized that the face was tailoring its message to the ear of each listener. She made the sign of the goddess acknowledging once again the great magic at work in this place.
Morier must have made the same deduction, for he began to explain in Common their intent to locate the four keys. The face confirmed that it was indeed guarding keys, and Shamalin felt a shiver of excitement course through her.
"Rake locked me up," it explained, a low emphasis on the name. Karak and Morier exchanged a glance and Shamalin looked back over her shoulder without really meaning to. In spite of Karak's loud work with his warhammer moments ago, they remained alone. "But that's not a problem any more since you're here."
"Who's Rake?" Ayremac asked and the face gasped, its features flying up into a look of shock.
"You mean you haven't killed the blackguard yet?" it asked, studying each of the group in turn. "Well, then I can't let you passed, it's as simple as that. I'd be remiss in my duties!"
"So you're the only thing keeping us from getting the keys," Huzair interrupted, appraising the plaque as he took a thoughtful pull on his cigar.
"I am only the first guardian," the face continued, its tone wary as if suspecting what the mage was considering. "You must pass my test before you can advance. Beyond the door, there are more guardians, and more tests..."
Karak stamped his axe once against the ground with a resounding thud, and Shamalin noticed with satisfaction that even the face stopped abruptly.
"We be here for these tests, that be true. But we are not at full strength," Karak gestured at Lela, a sad smile splitting his beard. "Our sprite be stricken with the rot o' Aphyx. Can you heal her?"
The group waited expectantly, but the face responded simply, "I cannot." Then it brightened. "I can heal doors though. And lock and unlock them. It's one of the things I do best, in fact." A proud expression played across the stoney features.
There was a pause and Huzair stepped forward casually blowing his cigar smoke at the face. "You don't seem to be much help. What do we have to do to get passed you."
"Well kill Rake for one," the face told him. "I can't have him just lurking around to wrest the keys away from you when... if ... you complete the tests. It would be too easy for him. The point of the tests is to keep the keys away from creatures like him."
"What can you tell us about this Rake?" Morier asked. The eyes shifted from one to the next and finally came back to look upon the albino appraisingly.
"I will give you information about Rake if you make a promise," it said at last. Its voice sounded a little smaller than it had before.
"What promise is that?" Ayremac demanded.
"In exchange for information, you must promise to take me with you when you leave. If you should succeed, that is." The plaque looked a trifle guilty as it spoke. "I mean, if the keys are gone, there's no need for me to hang around here, right? I'll have fulfilled my duty. So I can go someplace more... interesting. With people to talk to. A-an-and a new door to guard!"
The fact that the face was willing to negotiate with them seemed a good sign to Shamalin. If it could be trusted. They conferred for a few moments before reaching a decision. "We have a manor," Morier said. "It has many doors and many people training there to fight Aphyx."
"That sounds lovely! It's a deal!" the face beamed. It closed its eyes momentarily and then told The Order what it knew.
"The last eight of nine Druids built this place as well as the tests beyond. Rake dwells here, guarding what is hidden. He is not a man. He worships the dark goddess and is truly evil. He is duplicitous, rotten, and smarter than he looks."
"That's it?" Huzair scoffed.
"I'm afraid so," the plaque sighed. "As you can see, I don't get out much." Karak harrumphed at that.
"So we kill this Rake and you let us passed," Morier asked. "Is that the deal?"
"Not exactly," the face explained. "If you want to enter the tests, you'll first have to solve my riddle."
"No, I don't suppose I do," it added quickly, its features settling into a benign smile. "I don't know much of anyone anymore. At least not anyone worth knowing."
Shamalin glanced at the others, certain that she would find consternation on their faces. The stone image was speaking in elvish, and she knew that there were some within the group who did not speak that tongue. What she noticed instead, was that each of her companions wore a look of curious understanding. And in the next moment she realized that the face was tailoring its message to the ear of each listener. She made the sign of the goddess acknowledging once again the great magic at work in this place.
Morier must have made the same deduction, for he began to explain in Common their intent to locate the four keys. The face confirmed that it was indeed guarding keys, and Shamalin felt a shiver of excitement course through her.
"Rake locked me up," it explained, a low emphasis on the name. Karak and Morier exchanged a glance and Shamalin looked back over her shoulder without really meaning to. In spite of Karak's loud work with his warhammer moments ago, they remained alone. "But that's not a problem any more since you're here."
"Who's Rake?" Ayremac asked and the face gasped, its features flying up into a look of shock.
"You mean you haven't killed the blackguard yet?" it asked, studying each of the group in turn. "Well, then I can't let you passed, it's as simple as that. I'd be remiss in my duties!"
"So you're the only thing keeping us from getting the keys," Huzair interrupted, appraising the plaque as he took a thoughtful pull on his cigar.
"I am only the first guardian," the face continued, its tone wary as if suspecting what the mage was considering. "You must pass my test before you can advance. Beyond the door, there are more guardians, and more tests..."
Karak stamped his axe once against the ground with a resounding thud, and Shamalin noticed with satisfaction that even the face stopped abruptly.
"We be here for these tests, that be true. But we are not at full strength," Karak gestured at Lela, a sad smile splitting his beard. "Our sprite be stricken with the rot o' Aphyx. Can you heal her?"
The group waited expectantly, but the face responded simply, "I cannot." Then it brightened. "I can heal doors though. And lock and unlock them. It's one of the things I do best, in fact." A proud expression played across the stoney features.
There was a pause and Huzair stepped forward casually blowing his cigar smoke at the face. "You don't seem to be much help. What do we have to do to get passed you."
"Well kill Rake for one," the face told him. "I can't have him just lurking around to wrest the keys away from you when... if ... you complete the tests. It would be too easy for him. The point of the tests is to keep the keys away from creatures like him."
"What can you tell us about this Rake?" Morier asked. The eyes shifted from one to the next and finally came back to look upon the albino appraisingly.
"I will give you information about Rake if you make a promise," it said at last. Its voice sounded a little smaller than it had before.
"What promise is that?" Ayremac demanded.
"In exchange for information, you must promise to take me with you when you leave. If you should succeed, that is." The plaque looked a trifle guilty as it spoke. "I mean, if the keys are gone, there's no need for me to hang around here, right? I'll have fulfilled my duty. So I can go someplace more... interesting. With people to talk to. A-an-and a new door to guard!"
The fact that the face was willing to negotiate with them seemed a good sign to Shamalin. If it could be trusted. They conferred for a few moments before reaching a decision. "We have a manor," Morier said. "It has many doors and many people training there to fight Aphyx."
"That sounds lovely! It's a deal!" the face beamed. It closed its eyes momentarily and then told The Order what it knew.
"The last eight of nine Druids built this place as well as the tests beyond. Rake dwells here, guarding what is hidden. He is not a man. He worships the dark goddess and is truly evil. He is duplicitous, rotten, and smarter than he looks."
"That's it?" Huzair scoffed.
"I'm afraid so," the plaque sighed. "As you can see, I don't get out much." Karak harrumphed at that.
"So we kill this Rake and you let us passed," Morier asked. "Is that the deal?"
"Not exactly," the face explained. "If you want to enter the tests, you'll first have to solve my riddle."
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