Chapter 3: Beyond the Portal

Once more, the restoring energies of Iomadae run through Renna's veins, driving the cold in her limbs fully away.

You take your time to let Renna recover - after a minute or so, the noise-induced head-ache is finally gone, and the world stops spinning quickly after she stands up. The sword is just within her arms' reach, and completely uneffected by the slime; seems like the smiths did a decent job there. The few things that you find around your feet show you that that's not evident; in fact, most of what's left behind is little more than corroded metal, of little use to anyone.

There are, however, exceptions. First off, the bolts and arrows you fired off - they did not have the time to decay just yet, and should be reusable without too many concerns. Apart from that, you notice three rather small clumps of some oozy, yet sturdy black mass, about thumb-sized. You don't know exactly what these are, but you've never seen anything like them - and rare things usually sell well at some point. Next on the list is a giant tooth that seems completely out of place - an animal of the respective size would have trouble to get through the tunnels. Lastly, there are two objects made of silver and steel that somehow survived the ages - indeed, they seem old, as far as you can tell. The first one is the hilt of either a really short sword or an impressive dagger; the blade itself is missing, so it's hard to tell. Either way, it's covered with unfamiliar runes, and should at worst be worth quite a few coins if you find someone interested in ancient stuff. Speaking of ancient: The second object is a small amulet, and it appears to be even older than the hilt. The surface is rusty and has seen better days. In a joint effort, you recognize one of the symbols - it's the sword of Iomedae, though even Renna barely recognizes it - these days, people put way more work into the small details. When Renna touches it, it feels surprisingly warm; for the others, it's simply cold, rusty iron.

Still feeling pained, Renna will go ahead and use her last Lay on Hands available to her for some more healing. Once that is done, and she is feeling a bit better, the blonde paladin clears her throat. "I don't know about the rest of you, but I could use a bit of a break. Some food and water, and a bit of rest to finish recuperating. After that, we can get back on the move again."

When the others begin to look through the remnants of the slime to see what treasures are left, her eyes light upon the holy symbol. "Oh, my. This is very old; you can tell from the way the symbol has changed over the years. If no one minds, could I please keep this? It is a wondrous treasure for one of Iomeade's faithful."

Wren does her best to help the holy warrior to her feet and to get her massive sword back in her hands. "There. You are starting to look a lot better, but you should take it easy for a while. I'm just glad you were able to pull through that. Have me a bit of a fright. Now, let's gather up what we can from that muck and find a query place to make a quick camp. I'll try to appraise the items we've got while you catch a few winks."

When Renna asks about the holy symbol, Wren nods. "I don't have an objection to that. Seems you are the best person to carry it, at least in my opinion. Now, if you are feeling up to it, we should get moving; I thought I heard something off in the dark."

As everyone looks through the remnants of the slime for treasure, Baird's eye catches the ancient hilt and examines it in an attempt to uncover its secrets. Before he can do so however, he notices Renna looking over the Iomedae relic and asking politely to keep it. "I'm sure it will do the best in your hands Renna, you are one of her followers after all.
((short post, feeling drained from school))

Veskassdak nodded as he too perused the objects the others were discovering. When Renna asked about the trinket, he stated simply, "Need not thing want you. Think bessst if want you, get you. Tooth what me want. Ssshow tribe ssstrong becoming me! Proof of fightsss good sssurvived hasss me!" With that, he bent to recover the arrows that he shot that were still in usable condition and the bolts Baird had used as well to give back to his dragon-blooded kassu.

Wren looks at Baird. "Can you perform a Detect Magic spell, or is that not one of your abilities? If you can, perhaps they have some hidden power to them that we can uncover." She glances around, wondering where to go from here. "I don't suppose that anyone has seen a safe hidey-hole to camp in for a bit?"

When you entered the cave, with the slime right behind you, you might have seen a flickering light; as you glance around now, however, it is gone. Instead, your loun stones only show a mixture of stone and shadows around you, with little of note to be seen. Little cover to make camp, in particular; you might be well-advised to search for a better hiding spot if you do not wish to fight other oozes or whatever-else might live close to this cave.

As you ponder where you should be headed, a somewhat distant sound can be heard - a steady, relatively quiet sound somewhere deeper in the cave. It does not take too long until the cause enters your sight, stepping out of the shadows; a wooden staff leaves the darkness first, followed by its owner. You first see the paw holding the staff - it's covered with long, white fur, and seems to have just enough strength in it to hold on to the walking aid. You then see the head: It's the one of a fox, although the red eyes are significantly larger, and squint to adjust to the unnatural lighting your stones provide. The wiry body is crouched as he walks, and mostly covered by a white tunic; offering little contrast to the fur itself. Six tails move behind his back, seemingly with a life on their own; they continue their snake-like movements even as the kitsune himself stops. Taking a deep breath, he musters the four of you, but does not speak a word just yet.

Baird turned his head and responded to Wren, "Of course, I can cast detect magic," before casting said spell. Once he did however, he became acutely aware of another watching them. Turning around, Baird noticed the Kitsune approaching from the shadows saying nothing in response. "To whom to we owe the pleasure?"

Spellcraft check on the hilt(I don't know anything, lol)

Renna lets out a inner sigh. I'm still hurting, and here is something else coming our way. I pray to Iomedae that this goes well. Clearing her throat, the paladin places her hands on her hips and takes a step forward. "Greetings, neighbor. Is there something we can help you with? I must give you fair warning that we lack much to offer other than our friendship right now." She does her best to put her pain behind her and give the fox-person a smile.

Veskassdak's focus was on the tooth until he heard both Baird and Renna greet the newcomer. He turned and felt his breath leave his body. He had never seen nor heard of such a creature as was seeing now. The six snake-tails worried him. Such things were not natural. His baser instincts kicked in before he could stop them and he hissed like an alligator in warning. He prepared to rage again if the thing attacked. As it was, he merely glared at it intimidatingly.

Wren looks about for any other signs of life, but otherwise, she stands fast and says nothing. Seeing that this creature doesn't seem to be a threat, Wren goes ahead and sheaths her blades. If this thing gets frisky, she'll let Veskassdak take point and move to flank it for a nasty strike.

First and foremost, the hilt inspection: Casting his spell, Baird notices a magical aura around it; the magic, however, is too unfamiliar to find out anything else. Obviously, it did not protect the blade, since that one's missing.

As you begin to speak to him, the fox-man slowly comes closer. "They call me Tails - well, Zidohil calls me like that, and that's what matters." You recall the latter name - back on the isle, the minotaur statue mentioned him as one of the more reasonable drows down here. "And do not worry about things to offer - if both of us read the omens correctly, your presence alone will do more than enough." He takes a deep breath, as if the few words had already exhausted him. "I do not mean you any harm, strangers - in fact, I waited long for your arrival. Too long, perhaps." Another deep breath. "You can, indeed, help me; though this is not the time and place to talk. You are wounded, I am tired; and they probably watch us closely. There is a decent spot to rest nearby." His staff meets the ground as he comes one step closer, offering his free hand. "Just to be perfectly clear: Whomever you looked for down here, I am not that person. Not the archon, not the matriarch, not the beast. I neither hold, nor seek any power. All I can offer is a bit of guidance, for the price of being hunted like prey." Once more, he musters all of you - perhaps eyeing Veskassdak a bit longer than the others, though he shows no signs of fear.

Renna offers up a slight bow. "Well met, Tails. I believe that I speak for all of us when I say we are thankful to you for any guidance you can provide to us, along with a safe place to rest. We can share stories between one another as my friends and I ask of you many questions." She swings her large blade over her shoulder to its sheath on her back. "I am Renna, a paladin of Iomedae, and these are my friends, Veskassdak, Wren and Baird. Please, lead on to this safe place you have in mind."

"Renna." Tails' tongue forms the unfamiliar name, seemingly in thought. "The name suits you, if I may say so. Baird, Wren - those as well." He pauses. "Vescasdag - is that how you pronounce it? Your name will be a challenge; you are the first of your kind whose name I'm actually told. Welcome down here, may your rage always be purposeful." Without delaying any further, he slowly leads you through the darkness; it does not take long for you to leave the cave of your latest victory behind, entering into an even narrower tunnel that's half-hidden behind a collection of larger rocks and pointy stalagmites. The kitsune's steps are slow, but steady; he might be old, but shows no shakiness. For a moment, his staff is all you can hear; sometimes interrupted by a timely warning, like "Watch out, the ground is a bit tricky here".

Then, your stones illuminate an opening to your left - a small, natural chamber. Different runes of protection can be seen on either side of the entrance, and you get a glimpse at a mess of different barrels, shelves and blankets. It's barely enough to hold a group of your size; a half-filled mug and leftovers from an earlier meal are signs that your host has likely been here earlier. There are no signs of other inhabitants, other than an ancient, yet well-kept sword on the opposite wall; you'd guess that it's dark-elven smithery, both cruel and elegant at the same time. "This is it - have a seat somewhere. You said you had questions; I might have some answers."

Wren takes a seat, and looks over at the fox-man. "You used some names before, telling us that you are not the Archon, the Matriarch, nor the Beast. Who are these people, and what relationship do they have with one another? Who are the main players down here?"

"Veskassdak," said Veskassdak as casually as he could attempt to be while he wondered this creatures true intentions. "Have problemsss usssing name mine, may me callsss by name mammalsss mine kind given, Lizzzardman. Not offenssse take if ussse do you. You called by me Foxssman if offenssse taken not you by. Not like ussse name 'Tailsss'. Insssulting ssseemsss to called be by part of body. Kind you are ssseen people mine by hasss never. Heard only thossse of that curssse under livesss that ssshare predator form. Wereonesss. Natural not onesss thossse."

Baird takes a seat and listens as Tails began to explain what he knew before he heard Wren jump in. Nodding at her suggestion, he continued. "It would be good to know this information so we do not walk blindly into a bad situation.

"Lizardman. That'd describe hundreds down here, I'm afraid, but it will do for the moment. And foxman, Tails; it does not matter. Few things matter when you're old enough." While you sit down, he does the same - finding a spot on a smaller barrel in the chamber's middle. "Those names - if you do not know them, you already walked blindly into this mess. Luckily, I watched the war for decades; which isn't long, but perhaps long enough." His left hand grabs his mug, he mumbles a word - some time goes by before he drinks, and finally continues.

"The archon - he is not one of the main players, at least not anymore. And still, he is the best one to start with. You know what they say about the drow - always cruel, always willing to sacrifice anything for more power. For most, that is indeed true. Never forget that down here. Only rarely does one manage to gather the others' followership - Lord Archon Thorad was the last one to succeed, due to foresight and the help of others. He led the drow into battle for once, united in a rather atypical goal. Ironically, it brought them peace, if only for a while. When he died, many tried to fill the gap - the archon I mentioned is the last one in a line of soldiers who claim to protect the law - or whatever is left, by now. He is just a mere shadow of some of his predecessors, or so I've heard; all he does is to keep control of the cathedral so that noone crowns themselves."

"The others are of greater importance: The Red Matriarch has been at it even before the Lord Archon became powerful, and only the Orb of Silence stopped her back then. She is a summoner of the worst kind, her demons brought more deaths than anyone else here can claim; roaming around, spreading chaos, getting rid of the weaker competition." A short pause, another sip. "She is mostly kept in check by the old lady - "bag-of-bones", as some do call her as long as she is not in sight. And she rarely is; she is in it for the long haul, every death makes her undead armies even more threatening. Both regularly let their troops collide in an attempt to figure out their weaknesses - for the last few decades, there have been few of note. The Beast is the neweset contender at the moment, a shapeshifter and abomination of immense power. He brought in reinforcements from outside like the others, but mostly relies on his own strength; undoubtedly, he will be gone within a decade or two." The foxhead musters all of you. "That should be everyone involved - apart from Zidohil, that is. Once upon a time the right hand of Thorad, capable of overpowering a dragon; now just a neutral observer, and yet feared by most. You can see his sword behind me - he won't be able to welcome you himself." His tired smile shows his fangs. "So my lonely presence here will have to do. And your presence, of course, now that you're here."

Renna was not one to ever be considered to be a very bright woman, and she knew it. So, after sitting for a while in silence, trying to wrap her mind around all of the information provided by Tails, she just feels flummoxed. She looks to Baird in askance. "I hardly know where to start. I must confess, I'm not entirely sure what we are supposed to do here to try and make things right."

Clockwork Syringe

Baird notices her look and then slyly winks back at her before continuing. "Renna, we were sent here to act as mediators and broker a peace if possible" Baird began. "With that being said, I do believe we needed to know the main players as Tails has graciously explained. Now that we do, we need to figure out how to broker this elusive peace." Baird tactfully forgot to mention that their other objective, as given to them by the elven statue was to ensure one side won if peace could not be reached. Baird was not about to lay all of his cards on the table yet.
Psychie

Wren gives off a quiet sigh. Paladins. They lose their minds in all that armor. "Well, I guess that the first thing we need to figure out is, what are they fighting over? Is it just a struggle for territory? Or is there some object that they all want? We can't broker a peace until we know what the goals of the fighting is."

Veskassdak kept quiet while the others tried to figure out what was next to be done. It was hard for him to follow their mammalian thinking. Reasoning behind the conflict, goals desired by those involved, what went before their arrival. These things meant little to him. One fights to prove one is worthy of survival. One kills for food or protection. One does not bring war for stupid reasons. That is no reason at all. He decided that even though the ones he now travels with are the closest a mammal has come to being friends, they are not yet ready for his people. He will let them come to their own conclusions.
"Sssenssse not makesss," he commented. "Fight food not for. Protect ssself not thessse onesss. Fight to fight sssee I. Sssenssse not makesss."

"For outsiders, it likely makes little sense, that's true. It's a struggle for leadership, and thus for power - a pointless struggle, since neither of them will overpower the others, but it's not like they could simply back out by now." Another sip, then he puts his empty mug down. "They all wish to wear the spider crown, the sign that noone may stand against them; it's placed in the spider queen's cathedral, and may only be retrieved by proving your strength and overpowering your foes. It's a ritual, with very few ways to get an advantage - you'd rather fight a war for centuries than stand there unprepared. Lord Archon Thorad was the last one to call for it; the Orb of Silence meant that only morons decided to challenge him directly. It's a powerful artifact, forged by draconic and drow magic, that swallows the magic of those around you; quite handy in a world where the spellcasters lead. When he died, it was sealed away in his tomb, well-hidden so that noone could possibly abuse it. As far as we know, only Zidohil can tell its location; and he made it quite clear that he won't share that knowledge with just about anyone."

His eyes wander off, towards the ceiling. "They fear it - all of them. It could take away their gathered power, if only for a moment; they tried to find it more than anything else, to lock it away where noone else can get it. It might be the key once more, I'd say. At least, it'd make them listen, whereas right now, few words are spoken between the different parties."

~A crown is what they are all fighting over huh?~ Baird thought to himself. ~Wouldn't the best option be to just destroy it if that is all they are fighting over? After all, it is the symbol of this conflict and without a symbol the conflict would end.~ Baird also perked up about how the Orb of Silence was forged with Draconic and Drow magic. ~Is it possible that I may have an advantage in wielding the orb due to my heritage? I'm sure the others may think the same, just so long as nobody here blurts out that I'm descended from the Great Gold One, we will be fine.~ He then reached beneath his robes and clutched the pendant and tried to get a sign of what the group had to do next.
Silanon