Old-School Essentials: Stonehell

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"Sounds perfect. Our interests are separate and we provide extra defense for one another. Seems like there are few downsides.

However I must ask, I was not aware there were Dwarven constructions here. Was Stonehell built or designed by your kind? Or maybe it sits over one of your complexes?"
 
However I must ask, I was not aware there were Dwarven constructions here. Was Stonehell built or designed by your kind? Or maybe it sits over one of your complexes?
The stout scholar nods vigorously. "Our own records, meticulous though they are, mention no such thing. But legends have come back to us over time through explorers such as yourselves."

Snorri sighs dramatically. "There are theories, of course. Some say it's just wind, but some of the accounts are just too precise, considering they come from younger races," he says, indicating yourselves as an example.

"Others hypothesize that there were a few dwarven prisoners among the multitude who were consigned to Stonehell in its time as a prison, and chambers like this," Snorri gazes all around the room, "are good evidence of that. But other accounts suggest greater marvels of my people that put this to shame.

"And so there are other academics," the dwarf begins, pausing significantly, "fewer in number but more daring in thought. This school of thought believes that Stonehell was home to a clan of free-thinking dwarves, exiled from our cities for their own daring ideas," Snorri adds, provocatively.

The other four dwarves listen to their leader attentively. "Anyway, those are some of the theories," he concludes.
 
Hildegard thanks the Dwarves for the information.

"How much of the complex have you explored. We've covered much of this level ourselves. Have you being mapping the place out?"
 
Ridgel perks up at the history lesson. A topic he's always loved. "Fascinating! So it's possible a clan of dwarves lived here so out of dwarven norms that they were erased from history?!?" he says incredulously. "What would be so misaligned with your culture to cause that kind of action?" he asks.
 
"How much of the complex have you explored. We've covered much of this level ourselves. Have you being mapping the place out?"
Snorri replies, "We have mapped our route, but I can't say that we've made it very far. We came the same way as you, and as with you, we are forced to forge ahead."
"What would be so misaligned with your culture to cause that kind of action?" he asks.
The old scholar looks a bit nonplussed by the question, and the other four mutter in obvious irritation. Snorri turns to them and holds a palm down in placation. Turning back to Ridgel, he replies.

"You must understand, our scholars are held to a very high standard. Learning is one of the Three Highest forms of Worship, so we are expected to live very pure lives. Some find the Vows to be...excessively restraining. It doesn't take much to become a heretic, and heretics leave. They are stricken from the record, and technically," he glances nervously at his four attendants, "they never existed in the first place."

Snorri raises a finger. "Keep in mind, good sirs, that this is just a theory," he intones like a mantra.
 
Snorri replies, "We have mapped our route, but I can't say that we've made it very far. We came the same way as you, and as with you, we are forced to forge ahead."
"Well then we can discover the unknown together. It think travelling together will make us a significant force. Maybe we can clear out this whole level.

Unless you suspect there is a secret exit from this room, shall we head back toward the cross section we just came from. There's a door we have yet to open"

OOC: Marked purple just below the caves
stonehell.jpg
 
Unless you suspect there is a secret exit from this room, shall we head back toward the cross section we just came from. There's a door we have yet to open
The weathered scholar smiles ever so slightly. "Easy, young ones, we're still surveying this room. It may not be impressive, but as true seekers of knowledge, we know that exciting discoveries result from tedious observations.

"Besides," he says with a gesture towards the direction you came from, "it looks like forward is the only option."

Indeed, to your puzzlement, the door you came through is no longer visible. A section of wall decorated with graven dwarves is all that meets your gaze.

The four junior scholars shuffle to different corners of the room, examining the walls and jotting notes on small sheaves of ribbon-bound papers.
 
"Well you can't beat a dwarf at this game, but let's help" Hildegard says searching the walls.
 
The party joins the dwarves in their inspection, although they seem to regard you as mildly annoying in the course of cataloging the room's details, their script as dense and precise as the architecture.

After about ten minutes, the dwarves seem satisfied. The most interesting thing anyone discovers is the inability to return from whence you entered the room. The door you passed through is an almost seamless wall from this side, and you can find no crevice to gain purchase. Only a hairline crease betrays its existence, though a dwarf clucks in disapproval that a human could spot anything at all.

The torches reach their final throes, so Ingri and Hearthglow swap them out with fresh ones. Eyeing the one remaining egress, Snorri gestures magnanimously. "Shall we?"

Obvious exits:
  • Down a hallway leading back the direction you came on the right side of the room, flush with that wall.
 
"Let's" Hildegard says with a curt nod and follows after the dwarf.
 
Ridgel whistles a happy tune. He's happy to be among scholars again.
 
The entire troupe leaves the room, heading down the corridor, with Snorri and his group leading the way. It extends 20' before turning hard to the left. Snorri leads the way around the bend, inspecting the masonry.

"Amateurish, no dwarfish influence worth mentioning," he sniffs.

Continuing without pause, he rounds the corner before coming to a stop after 20' more. The rest of you catch up to find him and his scholars standing at a four-way intersection. There is a rising scent of rot and filth.

"Hmm, what looks most promising?" asks the seasoned scholar. "Or smells least offensive?"

Obvious exits:
  • Back around the corner to the right to the room with dwarven carvings.
  • Straight across the intersection, where it reaches another four-way intersection in another 20'.
  • Down the right corridor, where it opens into a dark room after 20'.
  • To the left, where the hallway opens into a room after 10'. That room contains a heap of stinking trash that you can easily detect from where you stand.
 
The entire troupe leaves the room, heading down the corridor, with Snorri and his group leading the way. It extends 20' before turning hard to the left. Snorri leads the way around the bend, inspecting the masonry.

"Amateurish, no dwarfish influence worth mentioning," he sniffs.

Continuing without pause, he rounds the corner before coming to a stop after 20' more. The rest of you catch up to find him and his scholars standing at a four-way intersection. There is a rising scent of rot and filth.

"Hmm, what looks most promising?" asks the seasoned scholar. "Or smells least offensive?"

Obvious exits:
  • Back around the corner to the right to the room with dwarven carvings.
  • Straight across the intersection, where it reaches another four-way intersection in another 20'.
  • Down the right corridor, where it opens into a dark room after 20'.
  • To the left, where the hallway opens into a room after 10'. That room contains a heap of stinking trash that you can easily detect from where you stand.
Ridgel says "It might seem counter intuition but at the academy Master Fireowl opined 'The latrine is where the most base animals often deposit their valuables. If you can overcome your pride great riches can be had so long as you can hold your nose or stomach'. He did warn about particularly foul monsters that sometimes congregated there. I suggest we look there for perhaps easy if smelly treasure."
 
As Bron fusses over his wounds he chimes in with agreement for Ridgel's plan.
 
"Works for me," murmurs Thad, pointing his crossbow uneasily into the darkness.
 
While they are momentarily paused, Hekima maneuvers her way closer to the leader of the dwarves. "Master Snorri," she says, hoping the form of address is an acceptable one, "when our two groups first met, you made reference to something called the Zog... and not in a particularly flattering manner. The word is unfamiliar to me. Who, or what, are the Zog?"
 
The old dwarf scratches his head. "I suppose you Westerners haven't seen many of them on this side of the Peaks. That's what I hear, anyway...but then we saw their footprints in the soft earth above," he says, hooking a thumb upwards.

"So they're a plague to us Eastern dwarves. They like the caves, but they don't like to dig 'em. Only to find 'em or steal 'em. They're savage and stupid, and most of them are wee hairy fellows who can scarcely comprehend a spear. But, by the gods, there's a lot of them. We exterminated entire mountains of their hives in the Melancholy Range near my home. Only ten years later, they start to reappear.

"I hate to admit it," Snorri rumbles, plainly ashamed, "but one of our major cities, Lurnath Dirth, fell to their constant harassment! Barely a century ago! No other dwarves would take in the survivors, for they failed to defend their fine halls against those obscene savages. But still..." he trails off.
 
Ridgel says "It might seem counter intuition but at the academy Master Fireowl opined 'The latrine is where the most base animals often deposit their valuables...I suggest we look there for perhaps easy if smelly treasure."
Snorri wrinkles his nose. "We look for different sorts of treasure, adventurer. This way." And without another word, he strides down the right corridor.

The other dwarves follow him closely, and I describe this for those who also follow the scholar.

After 20', the hall opens into a room with 10' to either side, extending about 30' back. The floor is littered with broken tiles and piles of dust. You can see that the walls are decorated with chipped and smudged frescoes, though they are barely visible through the abuse of time.

Snorri nods, clearly intrigued. "These don't appear dwarven, but I can't readily say what they are." This creates a murmur and stir among the students. "No, no, I'm sure we can figure it out," Snorri reassures them. "Besides, remember: all great discoveries are preceded by confusion!" They fan out, scrutinizing ancient clues for provenance.

Obvious exits:
  • Back down the hallway you came
 
Thad will also examine the walls, albeit with an eye towards hidden doors or panels.
 
Hekima, while doing her best to stay out of the way of the dwarves, also studies the frescoes, likewise keeping an eye out for any hidden passageways.
 
The dwarves and party busy themselves with inspecting the walls and floor. It takes about 15 minutes because the dwarves debate the origin of the traces of blue color in the fresco. While they seem well-satisfied with their findings, there's nothing particularly noteworthy from an adventurer's point of view. Afterwards, the group returns to the four-way intersection.
Hekima, while doing her best to stay out of the way of the dwarves, also studies the frescoes, likewise keeping an eye out for any hidden passageways.
The frescoes themselves are very hard to make out. Only occasional patches of what look like pastoral and woodland scenes.

"Forward?" asks Snorri. "I really can't stand the stench," he says, indicating the lefthand corridor.
 
Ridgel pays deep attention to the commentary by the dwarves.
 
Ridgel pays deep attention to the commentary by the dwarves.
OOC: Does Ridgel know any languages besides Common? I don't see any on your sheet, so I'll assume not for the time being.

Ridgel strains to listen, and Gwaja attempts to translate with a condescending smile. However, it's pretty much impossible for him to fully explicate five dwarves debating ancient paint-making techniques, so he just summarizes.

"Those two," he says, pointing at two of the students who are speaking at a rapid pace, "contend that the blue comes from a beetle shell far to the South. Snorri, however, maintains that it comes from a rock across the sea to the West, and the other two dwarves are deferring to their mentor's wisdom."
Bron dimly recalls something about low hanging fruit in smelly places and votes to go to the lefthand corridor instead.
Snorri ponders this for a moment, and sighs. "Look, we dwarves know how unhealthy something like that could be, especially underground. You could hit a methane pocket! I don't know if you know what that is, but anyway..." he trails off.

"I shall tell you what," he offers. "We are still trying to get to the bottom of this whole paint controversy. We will wait here and work out the academic side of things. Meanwhile, you can investigate the garbage pile and do your human stuff. If you run into problems, just make a lot of noise and try to come running back, and we'll try to meet you midway."

OOC: Apologies for the posting rate, folks, but I'm trying to simulate the agonizingly slow nature of academic discourse. Yeah, that's it...
 
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"Seems fair" Hildegard says with a bit of a laugh and heads off to join Bron.
 
Finding no hidden panels and not being terribly interested in the dwarves' paint controversy, Thad joins the party headed to the foul-smelling chamber.
 
The party approaches the dark chamber with the sound of burning torches and boots on dry stone. It appears to be heaped with vile refuse; as you come closer, your nose can detect strong notes of rotten meat and fetid excrement. It is nigh unbearable.

Also, as you walk closer, you hear intensified sounds of fierce chittering. Amidst the filth you see a writing mass of matted fur, and you hear scrabbling claws and furious chirps. You can't quite make out what you're looking at from here.

The room itself is quite small, perhaps 20' square.

Obvious exits:
  • Back to the arguing dwarves.
  • There's a corridor leading out from the lefthand wall that your hallway is already flush with.
 
"Right, come out!" Hildegard shouts at the refuse.
 
Bron utters a vile seaman's curse under his breath and says, "Watch out for giant rats and other vermin. Don't touch anything with your hands until we're sure it's clear. Prod with a spear or pole if you got one." Spear and shield ready he says, "We need some light on the refuse pile."
 
Ridgel keeps his torch at waist height prepared to slash the air at his feet should a small creature run his way.
 
"Right, come out!" Hildegard shouts at the refuse.
The squeaking comes to a halt. In the deep shadows, a small host of shiny black eyes regard you for a few moments. Then, there is a loud shriek from one corner of the pile of fur, and they resume their scrum.
 
The squeaking comes to a halt. In the deep shadows, a small host of shiny black eyes regard you for a few moments. Then, there is a loud shriek from one corner of the pile of fur, and they resume their scrum.
"Well, they're not overly concerned with us maybe I can talk to them?" Hildegard says looking at the others.

"Hey do any of you speak Lissek?"
 
"Well, they're not overly concerned with us maybe I can talk to them?" Hildegard says looking at the others.

"Hey do any of you speak Lissek?"
The squirming fat-bodied vermin turn and unleash a chorus of angry squeaks in your direction, their beady eyes fixed on your form. There must be at least a dozen of them.
 
"It looks like we have to deal with those before we can cross the room or search their, um, nest," Ruul observes.
 
"Well, will we just slowly advance and scare them off. Maybe if we don't rush at them they'll just scurry off somewhere else?"
 
Ridgel keeps sweeping the area in front of his feet with the torch saying "Shoo! shoo! Git say!"
 
Bron looks to his right, making eye contact with the merc before advancing together, ready to spear anything scurrying out. "We could use some more light" he bellows, not wanting to get bit by a sneaky diseased rat.
 
Thad hangs back, crossbow aimed at the center of the rodential mass.
 
Ridgel hears the call for light and replies annoyed "I am literally waving a torch in their faces! What more do you need!"
 
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