Renew the Pact: Ecclesia, part 1
Log Info
- Title: Renew the Pact: Ecclesia
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Aryia, Aimarra, Jozi, Rigby
- Place: Ecclesia, Myrddion
- Time: Sunday, May 02, 2021, 2:24 PM
- Summary: Sage Goldweaver wants to recover a book of ancient lore near Ecclesia. He hires a group of adventurers and literally drops them off in the slums of the Holy City. There, they convince the poor locals to let them into the basement and access the catacombs, where apparently a lake and a library exist. The locals know all about it, warn and unwarn about medusae, and let the party explore under their tenement buildings. Several twists and turns later, there is indeed a lake and a short rowboat journey. They end at what appears to be a former library. With stone statues and the sound of slithering scales.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Appearing =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Aimarra 5'1" 128 Lb Half-Elf Female Brown hair and eyes, breastplate, leathers, pointed ears. Aryia 4'8" 110 Lb Shadow Elf Female A heavily scarred mul with a lost look about her. Jozi 5'8" 148 Lb Half-Orc Female A brunette half-orcess with a sunny disposition. Rigby 5'10" 170 Lb Human Male Ponytailed Acanian with curled moustache and pointed beard. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--= -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- As the GM =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Cryosanthia 6'9" 291 Lb Sith-Makar Female A dashingly tall, elegant white-scaled lizard woman. -=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=
Sage Goldweaver wants the group to recover a book of ancient lore near Ecclesia.
This is fine. Ecclesia is a small sovereign realm located within The Kingdom of the Lion. It's the headquarters for the Church of Daeus and the principle temples of all the gods that are primarily honored in Myrddion. Ecclesia has influenced western philosophy and religion for millennia.
It inherited the teachings of the Aegena Gospels. It's literally full of books of ancient lore, clerics, theologians, religious figures, the Pope. The Church of Daeus and the Chosen Prophet of Daeus are traditionally held to be the leaders of the Church of Ea. Officially, they're not directly in charge, but Ecclesia is a theocracy that honors the existence of all the gods.
And has some opinions on war golems.
It's a relatively short and comfortable Airship trip from Alexandria to Ecclesia, relative to Airships. Sage Goldweaver is able to afford such expense. Pre-boarding, the mission seemed straightforward, fly there, meet some people, get the book, possibly deal with beurocratic priests. In flight, the Sage was a bit more forthcoming.
A gnome, of course, reclining in an overstuffed wingback chair that had to be specifically shortened to fit into the airship. Sage Goldweaver isn't tall, but his chair is. It swallows him.
"So, this particular book is located in a library which hasn't been seen in three hundred years. It was likely built over during the first renaisance restoration. Through careful research I've located the tenements it is likely under. You'll have to deal with the locals to get access. It's often possible to enter the catacombs or the cisterns through their basements, so find one that can let you in."
"Any questions?"
GAME: Rigby rolls profession/airman: (3)+5: 8 <OOC> Cryosanthia says, "everyone else, roll Fortitude, DC12" GAME: Aimarra rolls fortitude: (1)+6: 7 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Aryia rolls fortitude: (3)+5: 8 GAME: Jozi rolls fortitude: (3)+8: 11
Aimarra, a half-sil carrying bow and longsword, bearing the symbol of Gilead, and a study in browns from dusky skin to leather armor to scuffed leather boots, listens to this, arms folded, leaning against the wall. Being inside helps, but the woman has a distinct green tinge beneath the brown, and has been bad badly skysick since they launched that there probably isn't anything left to throw up. "Any idea of its specific topic, or the appearance of the cover, or a title? If it's in the remains of an abandoned library, it probably has company."
It'd been some time since Rigby flew aboard an airship, and the last time he had, he'd had a rather abrupt fall that cut his journey short. Nevertheless, the Dragonieri seems pleased to be aboard. He'd stayed on deck during the ascent. To the point that he'd been underfoot while they were in the process of tieing back the rigging. A fact which seems to amuse, rather than upset the one-time airman. However, he takes it as his que to head inside and see to their client.
He finds a spot to lean against the wall, and stuffs a pipe while waiting for the others to gather. He lights the pipe and puffs away while he's listening to the explanation. "Get in, get the book, get out again. Anyone unlikely to be unhappy about us fetching it?" he wonders, nodding his agreement with Aimarra's sentiment.
Aryia didn't know how she really ended up here. Perhaps it was wanting to see if she could manage an airship instead of a seaworthy vessel as a change of pace. Perhaps it was getting out Alexandria for a change. Either way, it was straightforward, get a thing, bring it to a place.
Except, when that thing was a book. A scarred, plain clothed mul'neissa sighed at the explanation, pinching the bridge of her nose. This wasn't going to be straightforward. And the complete lack of a rocking motion (a familiar feeling from her time at sea) threw her way off her game to boot. She held a closed journal in her hands, letting the other get questions out of the way.
Jozi, normally a sunny delight, is an occasionally bristly miserable on this flight. At present, mollified by chewing on a sprig of wintermint with a bucket in her lap, she takes in the explanation though she's been unusually quiet for those who know her. Ultimately, with the question, she brings a hand up toward her face, just in case, and asks, "Kinda neighborhood's this tenement in, hon?" With a slight note of alarm in her eyes, she covers her mouth in time for a retch that ultimately manifests as a muffled belch. She colors some, "Scuse me."
"Yes. The book is three inches thick, bound in a dark leather hide with silver embossing and lettering." Sage Goldweaver expains, "The title is in Mythsandril, and while it's actually letters, it's also a pictogram which resembles a skull and spine. The title is, 'Speculations on Divinity and the Nature of Miracles'."
"Inside it will have analysis of the various Orisons, their common features. The later chapters involve combining common features of the Orisons and Blessings in an attempt to trick the divinities into granting the power without being an adherent of them."
He coughs, looking quickly at everyone, "People upset... well, priests. It's not a popular work. A bit heretical. But! No one should know you have it."
The Airship jolts again. Its crew really has no idea what they're doing.
"Ah, good question! Don't know." The gnome smiles widely, gripping the arms of his chair. "The buildings are old, three hundred years, likely smaller dwellings. Probably don't have running water, certainly not at the higher levels. Poor. Probably poor. Not pleasant."
Rigby's lip twitches faintly at the clear signs of distress from his fellow adventurers, but he arrests the smirk before it can fully manifest and clears his thoat, cupping the bowl of his pipe in one hand and exhaling a cloud of smoke as he speaks, "Tenements are usually where you'll find the dregs. Knocking houses, gambling dens, dealers and thieves." he offers his own 'expert' opinion. "Which might be about right, if this book is so poorly regarded among the clergy. A few silvers here and there will help grease palms, I doubt the locals will be an issue, unless they get the impression this book is valuable. Best we settle on a pretense." he muses.
He takes another draw on his pipe then, and glances about the group as he ponders. "I've been to places like this more times than I can count. I'm sure I'll be able to find us a friendly face who won't mind looking the other way while we slip into a basement. Underground, though, is a different matter. Not my wheelhouse."
Aimarra is about to say something, but then the airship jolts again, and she slides helplessly down the wall to sit on the floor, turning to heave once more into the bucket next to her. Nothing comes out, but she looks absolutely miserable, and entirely unwell, and doesn't manage to give answer or say another word. Whoooa-boy, that wasn't good.
The half-orc clutches her emergency containment as the ship bucks again. It creaks in her arms, but she doesn't toss.
Not yet.
Mint for the win?
Relatively sure she isn't going to honk mid sentence, she turns her eyes to the teamate(bastard!) that is untroubled by the flight, then answers, "Might get swarmed fer beggin..." a pause because the tummy wants to keep her brains on it's toes, "maybe muggin if the locals're desperate enough."
GAME: Aimarra rolls athletics: (6)+7: 13 GAME: Aryia rolls Athletics: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Rigby takes ten on Athletics: (10)+4: 14 GAME: Jozi rolls athletics: (15)+0: 15
There's a knock, the door opens and the captain looks in. "Sage Goldweaver, there's an airship inspector on board. Wants to know why we're flying over the city on an unapproved flight path instead of going to the airstation."
"An airship inspector, on board now?"
"Yes. He rode a broom up. He's quite cross."
"And an eager go-getter too. Is he a gnome?" Goldweaver wriggles in his seat, "Ah, never mind, show him in. This will likely be a big fine." He looks over at the adventurers, "this is your cue to get off. Go down the hallway, you can debark from the back of the ship using the drop-lines. We'll come in low. Meet back at the Airstation when you're Done!" He waves cheerfully as the adventurers are rushed to the drop.
It sounds absolutely terrifying. It's not that bad. The airship hovers in, eighty feet above the ground, passing over top of the tallest tennaments. A device is provided to hold onto the rope, a geared contraption that only spins so quickly, and goes even slower if clenched in a panic. The airship crew is more than happy to help everyone off.
A sudden drop.
To the middle of a grimey square. There's an old, battered fountain with some entwined statue, a bunch of old women both washing clothes and drawing water. They catch the drinking water from the spouts before it hits the basin. The basin... it has soap, moss and snails. No one is drinking from that. A few old men are sitting up against the building walls, playing chess. A few young toughs are hanging around.
Everyone is very interested in the people who dropped in from the sky. The airship engines whrrrr and it propellers off. Now there is nothing to distract the locals from the recent arrivals.
Rigby laughs at that, "I seem to have a habit of getting kicked off airships before they land." he muses, and then slips out in the direction that's indicated, ambling his way towards the drop point. He takes his pipe and knocks out the embers on the railing of the ship before stowiing it. Once done, he takes his rope and descent clutch, fixes it to the tope, checks the gearing and then places his rump on the railing. "See you all at the bottom, one way or another." he says, this time not able to hide his smirk, as he tips ackwards over the railing and begins his descent, kicking off the hull of the boat a couple of times until he clears it, and then descending the rest of the way on the clutch.
Once landed, he gives the rope a couple of tugs and lets go, to signal he's made it safely, and turns to take in the square. "Well, I suppose that dashes any hopes of subtlety." he murmurs to himself, raising a hand and offering a cheery wave to the onlookers.
Aimarra's only too happy to get off of this wild ride, and obeys without demur, grabbing her pack and making swiftly for the exit. Thanks to her wooziness from so much retching, it isn't a graceful descent, but the muscles know what they're doing better than the mind does, and she slides down the rope quickly enough, landing on her feet and looking around with interest.
Although she had not trusted herself to speak more than that one question on the ship, the word _tenement_ had called to mind a slum. Turns out she wasn't wrong, and she breathes a sigh of relief as her feet hit solid ground. "Gnomes," she scowls openly, pitching her voice to be heard. "Always with the dramatic entrance." A sharp shake of her head. She's seen places like this, many a time, and chooses a washerwoman to stride up to. "Pardon us, we aren't meaning no trouble." Now that her voice isn't shaky from skysickness, it has a definite cant of Tashraan to it. "We need your help."
Sprig poking between her lips, Jozi shakes her head and toughs through hastily getting to her feet to head back to disembark, using her hands to brace agaisnt the hallway as she ship lurches and pivots on it's approach.
She leaves the bucket.
The half orc nods to the crew as they get the rundown on the device's handling, watching the Acanian go first, then grabs the drop handle and swings out into a reasonably smooth descent. Terra Firma underfoot is a balm to the half-orc, and she gives a sigh of relief, "Feel better already." then gives the area a lookover. She gives a sly look to Aimarra as she goes off to make with the people skills, but lets her to it.
Aryia did not like that idea in the least bit, but to get off the rickety ship? Sure. Not the first time she'd slide down some rope. Though she didn't really trust the device to get her there safely. She let go a few feet before the ground came, her landing with bent knees. Despite the attention they gathered, the feeling of the place felt... oddly comforting.
The mute elf gave a shrug to the suggestion and pulls free her journal once more. Fingers drum idly, eyes scanning the place.
GAME: Rigby rolls knowledge/local: (8)+4: 12 GAME: Aimarra rolls diplomacy: (15)+2: 17 GAME: Aryia rolls sense motive: (19)+8: 27 GAME: Jozi rolls sense motive: (19)+9: 28
There is very little greenery, at least intentional kinds. Some weeds grow in the cracks of the less trampled flagstones, up against the edges of buildings, under the curve of the fountain. There is lichen, both green and grey, flaking the paint off the bricks of the tenament buildings. Brick buildings, with plaster, then paint, most of which has faded from the sun back down to the plaster and bricks. They look small, crowded, there's a stink. The tallest is seven stories, but most seem to only go up four or five. There are some tight alleys between them, the roads aren't much wider and tend to curve.
They're not wooden buildings. Clothes-lines are strung from the second story and above. A few of the windows have window boxes, a few of those have something growing that seems intentional, like garlic and onions. The others appear broken and to have turned into pigeon nests.
The washerwoman looks up at Aimarra, not because she's stooped over, but because she's short. She's a Mul'niessa. The old men playing chess, well a couple of them are human, but the others are Mul'niessa. The heads poking out of windows, Mul'niessa. The young toughs approaching the group, Mul'niessa. Some of the younger faces have make-up to make their skin lighter, but they're Mul'niessas as well. Muls, everywhere.
The washerwoman asks Aimarra, "How much is this help going to cost me?"
Three thugs have converged on the other group, looking over their equipment. Rigby's gun gets a long look, they can stare directly at Aryia, have to look up at Jozi. A remarkably cultured one says, "Come in your wealth to rob us of our poverty?"
The Thugs are looking for a fight, but more because they're bored and hate the recent arrival's existence than any particular mean intent. Invaders are on their turf and they have to front. A suitable sign of respect and they might not want to get physical.
Aryia gets very concerned looks, because of her scars, Jozi gets more of the hostile posturing.
The statue on the fountain is odd. It has had all it's features removed. It was female at one point. Also, for Mul'niessa, being that culturally they were underground, they might try living in the basements, and the lower tenements are definitely the higher status ones.
The washer woman doesn't seem like a friend either.
Rigby eyes the various faces peering at them, watching from the corners of his eyes and keeping his head on a swivel as they gather. "You've nothing worth taking, save for information. And for that, we can pay." he offers then, holding out his hands to show them devoid of weapons. "Looking for a guide." he says, and then takes a gold coin from his purse, flips it from one hand to the other, and then rolls it over his knuckles. "Someone to point us in the right direction and then forget we were here. Shouldn't be too much trouple, I'd think."
"It's not." Aimarra puts on her best smile, although that smile takes on an unexpectedly feral cast. "But if you're not interested in a deal, I'm sure I can find someone who is. Paying you for it's an option, but I'm sure you're not interested in that."
That's... a lot of mul. Far more so than her growing up in Aby'ssia. It put Aryia at ease. But it also put her on edge. It felt weird, conflicting. Perhaps...
The thugs stepping forward caught her attention. And stare back she did. Though their concern makes her reply with a tired expression.
The scarred mul sticks an arm out to the side, a blocking motion towards the thugs while the others are busy with the washer woman. Aryia, not very decked in much of any kind of wealth, shakes her head at the question. She mouths a "Sorry" to the thugs in their shared tongue and gives a small bow.
"Now, now, sugar, we aint here ta rob ya of any ol thang. This here yer block, then? Sorry." the half orc replies to the head droog, "What we want ain't yers. Woulda come in proper ta talk biz if the Law didn't come up on us."
She gives a sidelong look as Rigby chimes in, then arches an eyebrow, "Offer's solid." she says with a nod, then, "What's the word, fellas, little info fer some sure coin an a chance ta stick it ta the fancy tossers uptown, or... we wanna take our chances?" For diplomacy's sake, she doesn't close the hand festooned with blades. They already know it's there, no need for drama.
GAME: Aryia rolls diplomacy: (17)+-2: 15 GAME: Aimarra rolls diplomacy: (13)+2: 15 GAME: Jozi rolls diplomacy: (5)+6: 11
"Yes. Not interested in money, not interested in food, not interested in new clothes or a new pot or even a tithe to Taara to make my life easier." The washer-woman glares, shoving a sheet into the fountain, "you have me sussed out. So what's this favour."
The trio confronting Rigby, Jozi and Aryia have divided their attention so one stares at each. They all have similar clothes, rough and homespun, a tunic and trousers. The one speaking to Aryia seems embarassed and is looking around. Jozi's chosen seems to be ignoring her, watching her hand near her blade, but as the half-orc speaks further he seems to relax. A little. He glances at the gold coin, he nods.
The various people leaning out of their windows continue to do so, the show isn't over after all.
And the Mul'niessa listening to Rigby is unmoved, letting a few seconds of silence pass after the human finishes speaking. To make a point. He then asks, "You got one of those for each of us?"
He waves at the square, "And I mean all of us. Lots of silence to buy." He points up a street, "That way is out. You'll want a guide. Or you had some other direction in mind?"
Aimarra's smile shifts, then, to something less feral, and she seems unconcerned. "Anyone know where the entrance to the old library under us is?" she asks simply, pulling a handful of silvers from a small pouch on her belt with a headtilt. "That's all we really need, and we aren't interested in stirring up no trouble."
"Might have. Might not." Rigby offers in response to the question directed at him, "Depends on if someone decides to try and stick us in the back on the way out." he says then. He shakes his head at the question, though, and tips his thumb to point down at the cobbles beneath his boots, "Our intrest is down there." he says, casting a glance Aimarra's way, expression difficult to read, as she spells it out. He offers a helpless shrug, "That's the sum of it." he admits.
The desired destination is offered. The local reaction is unexpected. Everyone, the Mul'niessas and the few elderly humans look at each other. It's not a look of confusion. It's one that suggests they know exactly what the Explorers are asking about.
"That's... just a legend." The lead thug says.
"And there's a Medusa," one of the old chess-players adds.
"Well," the washerwoman adds more to the bargain, "I can show you where to start."
"Give everyone here a gold coin," the lead thug suggests, "and we'll come with you and make sure you get back safe too."
Jozi shrugs her shoulders, "That's a lot ta be carryin around, sugar." she replies thoughtfully. She glances at the windows sprouting more attention than they wanted, though, really, their landing scuttled any chance of avoiding. She considers the more erudite Mul thug and wonders, "If we gave one ta everyone here, would ya let em keep it?" Her bucket list, meanwhile, is growing in the back of her mind.
Rigby shakes his head at the suggestion, "No can do. Like I say, how bountiful my purse is depends on how few daggers end up in my back at the end of the day, not the beginning." he offers. "You get a coin and come along. The others get a coin when we're done, provided they /don't/ come along. Fair?" he offers.
"That'd be great," Aimarra agrees, palming five silvers and offering it quietly to the washerwoman, leaning over to murmur something quietly. "Another five when we come back up with what we want, and if I give it to you as silver, you're more likely to get to keep it."
Aryia continues to stare the other one down as they looked away. She knew the game, she'd been there. No one here likes them, and going soft would certainly be seen as an opening.
"All Muls are thieves, rob their own grandmothers, that's your take on this?" The talking thug turns on Jozi, before addressing Rigby again, "You're all pretty pushy for someone that just dropped out of the sky. How about you leave?"
He points, "It's that way."
"I'm not going anywhere outnumbered with someone carrying a gun worth this whole block that's acting skint." His friends aren't looking relaxed anymores. back to being tough.
"Nef," the washerwoman says, "Forget it. They'll splash around in the dark, find nothing, then refuse to pay. Find some excuse to lock you up. They're rich, they're going to do what they want."
"Not only Mul's. Gobbers, Lucht, Gnomes, Oruch, Humans too. Thieves and liars and scoundrels and crooks." Rigby says then, and shakes his head. "I've been to places like this in cities from Stormgarde to Veyshan, and everywhere in between. I know the shake." he says then, and he flicks the coin in the direction of the Mul he'd been talking to.
"Might be you're good for your word, might be. But someone will get wise and decide that they can take us, and we'll have to prove them wrong. And that doesn't benefit anyone, now, does it?" While he's speaking, he decides to take out his pipe again and begin stuffing it full of a fresh load of tobacco. "So. Are you going to show us the way down there, or are we going to have to wander around until we find it, and draw all sorts of the wrong attention doing it, hmm? Truth be told, I'd rather have set down well outside the city and come in by foot and avoid all this ruckus alltogether. Loose a few rounds of dice, have a drink, maybe find a nice lady for company, then get to business. But I'm working with the hand I've been dealt here."
"Been my experience, sugar, in poor neighborhoods, often as not it's the tough guys takin what little there is ta spare." the half-orc returns, leaning in a little for effect. She's kinda small for a half-orc, she doesn't get to loom a lot.
She stops when the wash woman throws her bit in and she straightens, slightly abashed, maybe a bit sad, "Her speakin up tells me that ain't necessarily so, here." She gives a little bow, "I apologize."
Nef, if that is his real name, glares at Rigby for a good twelve seconds, crosses his arms and looks over at the washer-woman. He steps back. "Good luck with the Medusa."
"There's no medusa. The 'Medusa' was the statue and the statue is no more." The woman says, leaving her laundry. She waves for the group around Rigby to follow.
Looking to Aimarra she says, "Okay. Come on." The woman leads the way over to one of the buildings. Inside, the ceilings are low. Not a problem for Mul'niessa but might be for taller folks. She finds a set of stairs, goes down a level, knocks on a door, "T'ssa, open. Got some visitors want to go fishing. They're looking for the library."
The door creaks open. The owner is obviously an older Mul'niessa, and her home is crowded. She has a suspicious glare for everyone, Aryia gets two. The two locals exchange looks, and then the owner of the hovel opens the door further, and leads to a closet which has a ladder in it.
"Down," she croaks, "to the stairs. Down those. Go North and West. Keep going North and West until you get to the lake. Take the boat. When you see the Medusa, take a big breath, swim down, swim north."
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "it's a k/dungeoneering, survival or tracking to not get lost, so someone roll that. DC10." GAME: Jozi rolls survival: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Rigby rolls survival: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Aimarra rolls survival+2: (6)+13+2: 21
Aryia finally abates her glaring as the group starts to move on, though she gives a quick back step towards the mul she was squaring down with to keep them on their toes before moving on with the group.
The mul'neissa of the party follows downstairs with them. The double glare is met with a raised hand in greeting as the way was explained.
Goodness gracious, for once, Aryia was glad to be herself. Though she didn't have an affinty for underground living, the prospect of little to no light sounds wonderful for the eyes. She was more than likely alone in that.
Rigby does indeed have to stoop- he's not the tallest human, but he is the tallest of the group and certainly taller than the average Mul. He lights his pipe on the way, and is smoking it as they arrive at the steps. He squints at the darkness. "Right-o." he says then, and reaches into a beltpouch. Drawing from it a rod, he raps it against the edge of the doorframe, and it sparks into bright light which he holds out in his hand ahead of him as he peers down.
As comfortable as he had been on the airship, he is quite clearly uncomfortable in these dark underground reaches and so even with the light provided by the sunrod he moves cautiously, and has to rely on his companions to find the way.
GAME: Rigby used a Sunrod.
Additionally, at the mention of taking a boat, the mute mul scribbles out on a page, "I can helm the boat. I knw how to."
Oh wonderful, blessed- She covered her eyes. "Ffffff...." Aryia hisses. Maybe not today.
Jozi watches the toughs back off, but is unwilling to completely turn her back on them until they're inside the hovel, and she hunches some for the low ceiling. The glares she get don't fill her with much in any spectrum. She's gotten too many, from too many people, though she gets the reasoning easy enough. She does give a polite, if slightly subdued, "Thank ya, ma'am." and steps through the door. Swimming is going to be an issue, no doubt. Being unsure how tight the quarters are going to get, thus, in lieu of her warhammer, the half-orc unhooks a second bladed glove and affixes it to her other hand. She descends the ladder first, moving quickly so no one gets too hasty and steps down on her while she's about it to the spiral staircase. "Huh." she starts, "Stairs seem sturdy enough." and continues moving to keep watch and be out of everyone's way.
GAME: Aryia rolls Profession/Sailor: (4)+8: 12
The Ladder goes down about fifteen feet into a broken section of spiral stairs. Those go down another thirty into the middle of a room, which has exits on the four walls. The north is pretty straight, to a junction, the worn path seems to be to the west. Exactly like the directions. It continues to more t-intersections and more crossings, but taking the north and west at each opportunity leads to a hole in the wall. So far, these walls are rough hewn, through compacted rubble.
On the other side of the hole, there's a lake. Shining the sunrod through, there is a patterend floor, columns, mosaics on the walls, pillars in the distance. There are flashes in the water, fish drawn to or fleeing the light. The columns appear to be made with broken blocks from some other structure. It's fresh-water, and there's probably a lot more than just fish in it. The surface is absolutely still.
The boat is large enough for four. It's easy enough to paddle, there's no current. There is only a single paddle though, so progress is slow. The floor of the room remains barely visible, 3' down, until it isn't. The floor has collapsed into a darker underwater cave, the depth unknowable. Anything might rush up out of the darkness, but nothing does.
Further ahead in the glimmer of the sunrod, there are stairs rising up out of the water, and what looks like the front of another building. Ancient and elaborate, it is decorated like a temple.
As Aryia rows the boat- Rigby is happy to let her do that- the Acanian man holds the sunrod between his teeth and slews his rifle around so that he can inspect it, levering forwards the trigger guard opens up a slot on the side and he slides a paper cartridge into it, so that it's ready should he need it. He holds it in one hand, again, and then takes the sunrod from his mouth to hold out, towards the stairs that they approach.
"Well, If I were a betting man- and I have been known to be- I'd wager this place looks promising. The washerwoman said we'd need to swim, though, didn't she?" he wonders. He peers over the edge of the boat, towards the dark cave. "Hold a moment." he says, and then reaches overboard to drop the sunrod into the water and watch it as it sinks.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "roll perception, DC25" GAME: Rigby rolls perception: (7)+2: 9 GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (14)+12: 26 GAME: Jozi casts Detect Poison. Caster Level: 2 DC: 12
Jozi climbs into the boat, sparing an inquisitive look to their silent partner as she takes up the oar, but shrugs and doesn't make an issue of it. She does, however, reach carefully up to adjust her collar, practiced at doing so with her Oruch claws, murmuring under her breath, "buav kuu hauk exciavun fun alnej aav zosh-kat par zi uk-avraighav buav ak" and her irises become golden discs as she examines the water and the like as she looks about. <unknown>
Nothing poisonous and substantial seems to be in range.
Aryia, for once in a long while, felt like in this situation with the rowboat she was actually useful. She gladly rows, slow but steady, with her back to the glaring light. A satisfied sound leaves her as the rod plunks into the water, the dimming light much more preferrable as the boat slows to a stop. Though, a small frown plays her lips. A gun, indoors? How long will the ringing last? she thought to herself. She was ready to swim, if need be. She really didn't have much on her aside from a waterproofed journal and a handful of coin. She pokes the tips of her fingers together, waiting as she glances to everyone.
The light goes down, and down, and down. The water is clear but there's not a lot to see, rough shadowy images of the columns. As it sinks the light doesn't carry as far. Thirty feet deep, easily, possibly more.
As the sunrod falls by one of the columns there is an upside down, carved medusa head as part of the column
The sunrod hits bottom, and rolls beneath a rock, or something eats it. It's seems like there's a lingering glow down there, but it might be an afterimage on the eyes.
It's a lot darker now.
Rigby nods once as the sunrod reaches the bottom, and then once more squints at the darkness for a moment. He pulls out a fresh sunrod from his pouches, and then strikes it against the edge of the boat. Poor Aryia, but he can't see without it. So lit, he tucks it into a frog on his belt, and then he holds the rifle in both hands. "Well, I say we head up the steps. No sense in getting our feet wet if we don't have to." he says to the other two.
Jozi hmm's softly, and her eyes return to normal, "Water's safe. Probly. I still wouldn't drink it." she offers. A quick dip for her will likely be a problem, and in that knowledge now it's she that's somewhat uncomfortable. She winces as the new sunrod is activated, shielding her eyes for a moment to adjust.
Aimarra to this point has been quiet since gaining access to the place, peering around her with interest. "Look." She points to the column past which the sunrod had just fallen, although its light is gone. "A medusa head, upside down. Maybe that was what they were talking about."
Ahead, the ceiling slopes down. It gets a lot lower and closer to the water. There is dried scum on the nearby columns which suggests the water level might have been higher. The hole to get into this place involved a slight drop down.
Swimming is still an option, but it's possible it's not necessary.
Aryia relishes the dark, finally, a nice moment where her eyes can adjust. She looks back to the bo-
"FFFffff... c- - g-v- -ds -p?" she complains in a slurry of hisses, rubbing at her eyes. Blinking the stars away, she leans over, spying the the medusa head that was pointed out. Aryia rolls her sleeves up and tightens boot laces, looking ready to swim if she has to.
Aryia looks a bit forward to a dive, but pouts and nods, rowing the boat into position.
Riby claps Aryia on the shoulder, "Don't worry. Looks like this place floods, time to time. We might end up swimming, yet." he offers with a hint of gallows humor. "Here's hoping the book hasn't been ruined by the water, mind..." he adds as the thought occurs to him.
It's possible to paddle forwards. The ceiling gets closer, but never so close it's necessary to go swimming. Close enough to touch, though, and scrape things off.
The boat moves across the still, underwater lake until it's at the stairs. The stairs go rather deep in the water, and lead up to a wide entrance that might have had doors at one point. Beyond, a dry area with columns, and statues. And stone shelves that might once have held scrolls and books.
At the top of the flight, there's also a basket, with what seem to be fishing poles.
Aimarra is only too pleased to duck, and briefly breathes a _sotto voce_ appreciation for being of limited stature. When her bow brushes the ceiling, she does have to unstrap it from her back and hold it alongside the craft, and when they arrive at the steps, she checks it with a frown to reassure herself that it remains undamaged.
She's not displeased to disembark, either, although she does look up and around the stairs. "Is there a place to tie this off, or else drag it up the stairs with us?
There is no obvious tie-off, but the boat isn't large. It can easily be dragged up the stairs.
Aryia flinches from the shoulder clap as she shoves the oar into the water to still any errant movements. She glances back to Aimarra, her giving a shrug, pausing, pointing up to deeper into the structure and shrugging again. The mul waits for everyone else to disembark before heading up herself.
Rigby stoops low, almost laying flat in the boat as they pass under the low part of the ceiling, his rifle held out to his side. Upon spieing the basket and rods, Rigby speaks in a hushed voice to his companions, "Look sharp, not alone." he says, and points towards them. He brings his rifle up to his shoulder, and sights it up the stairs incase they encounter any unexpected underground denizens. But after a moment, he relaxes a touch and climbs out of the boat and onto the steps. He takes a few cautious steps up, keeping his rifle readied and his eyes peeled.
Aimarra nods silently, and gestures to Rigby to help her carry the boat up the stairs and turn it over, so that it does not acquire anything interesting and can drain. If no help is forthcoming, she will do it herself, and only once all is in place does she turn to the others. "wave wiggle wave thumb wave wiggle" <unknown>
GAME: Cryosanthia rolls 1d20: (7): 7 (Medusa Stealths) GAME: Rigby rolls perception: (8)+2: 10 GAME: Jozi rolls perception: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Aryia rolls perception: (14)+10: 24 GAME: Aimarra rolls perception: (14)+12: 26
Jozi hunkers down as the ceiling gets lower, a posture made quite awkward by her armor and accoutremants, and she grunts slightly for the discomfort of it. She makes her way out of the boat with some, aditted trouble, but doesn't capsize it in the doing. Rigby's alert prompts a nod and she gives him a thumbs up, though as Aimarra starts gesturing to the boat, she shrugs and moves to help get that situated.
Aryia there is zero lack of understanding on the shadow elf's face at the hand signs flash across her face. She pouts a bit, a touch frustrated that she couldn't follow.
The boat is easy enough to haul up the steps, flip over and drain. It makes some noise, the sunrod sheds some light. This draws attention.
The building is wide, open, with several columns holding up the roof. There are also statues here and there. Old statues, which look a little rough, in dynamic poses. There is a mosaic on the floor, and the walls were also once painted, all in very ancient styles.
There's movement beside some of the columns, a heavy scraping noise and the flash of what seem like copper fish scales.
to be continued...
underwater Medusa
https://tinyurl.com/cjahkwk4
https://move2turkey.com/basilica-cistern-in-istanbul-underwater-palace/
map
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mwvbm2y4hpa
GM Map
https://www.mipui.net/app/index.html?mid=mwvbm2y4hpa&secret=s60mrzwmy9l
===================== Current Initiative Order - Round 1 =====================
---Init--Name------------AOO-Notes--------------------------------------------
23 Scalies
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20 Jozi 4 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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19 Rigby 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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9 Aryia 1 Flat-footed (0 rnds active)
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