Death in the Mountains - IC

Valgard followed the rest of them into the dining hall, taking a seat next to Slythe smiled at the meal, "This definitely makes up fer almost dyin' t'day." He says, downing a few loud mouthfuls of soup and ale.

"Speakin' a almost dyin', ya got any wispy shite ta deal wi' 'ese bruises Serestre? Daemaer?" He says, turning his shirt up for a moment to make the constriction bruises on his chest visible.

After he satiated his hunger, he sat back in his chair and sipped his ale, with occasional spoonfuls of soup or bites of bread, he tried to make conversation.

"Respectfully ancestor, I'm not one fer 'uman gods, I'm a dwarf, we've got are own pantheon, am beholded ta' Grimnir, tha' slayer god. See a've taken tha' öath, I fight fer a glorious death ta' make up fer me lost friends. Aside from tha sad shite, me an Reg'll help out wi' yer' weapons problem, much as we can." Valgard said, turning to Sam.

The Padre sticks his finger in his ear on Slythes side and wriggles it about as though cleaning it, he then gives the Saurian an annoyed look. “Eh, What? Speak up can’t you.”

At this Jean-Louis butts in “Slythe yes? Please forgive the Padre he is old and will not understand your ways.” He gives Slythe a conciliatory look “I am intrigued about your kind though and if you were willing could no doubt speak all night about it, so please allow me a few questions over my meal? You mentioned your Gods – what are their core beliefs if something could be so simplified?”

As Jean-Louis questions Slythe the Padre looks to Serestre again and gives a sly wink before taking a sip of water, when he looks up he looks annoyed again “You're wrong girl” he chides “You think the gods work together, in some grand overarching plan? I think not. Not that I can second guess them of course, nor would I dream to. Some of the fairer gods have affinities towards each other I suppose as their followers do, but enough of them work against each other.”

Sam gives a gracious nod to Valgard “We’d appreciate the help, dwarfen smithing is renowed, is one of you a craftsman?”

"I'll give a go with standard first aid before reverting to magic, if it's all the same. I am no dedicated healer though, I may need your help Serestre. Er, yours too I suppose, Daemaer." He definitely added the elf as an afterthought. His mind had naturally just envisioned Serestre working on him. Again his cheeks flushed.

Pull yourself together, Reginald. Grungni's bearded balls!

He turned to Sam before he could trip over any other thoughts or words. "I am a Runesmith. I scribe my people's magic into items, for those who do not know. However, I am no stranger to the forge and armories. I can take a look at the crossbows. If you have a workshop or similar facilities, that would be a great help. Failing that, at the very least we can ensure all your blades are sharpened and oiled proper before tonight."

Reginald finished his soup and wiped his mouth. After ensuring nothing was sitting in his beard, he sat back and listened to the ongoing conversations.

Daemaer reached over and slapped Slythe on the shoulder.

"My friend, magic knows no kind! Between me and Serestre we should be able to heal everybody up, and be fit and ready to go!...but first...."

He takes another drink, and belches.

"Right! Im ready to go! Once people have finished i will be outside!"

He responds to jean-Louis with a smile, though he wouldn't have been able to tell.
"The old onesssss I mentioned, along with a hosssst of forgotten otherssss, fought the dark godssss for aeons. They created my kind assss a weapon against the foul forccccesssss. Sssssince they disssssapeared, we have sssspawned many generationsssss to continue to carry out their will. Our priestssss and live dead ssssslan masters interpret the will of the old onessss from the ssssacred plaquesss they left behind."

"Whenever you've time later master dwarves, just find me about the village and I can show you what needs repairing."

As Sam speaks to Valgard and Reginald a few younger monks enter and clear away the empty bowls and half eaten food. A 'sweet' is then brought out, a large apple pie and a jug of custard.

Jean Louis has a look of surprise on his face "You mean the gods of Chaos don't you?" he asks of Slythe. "Most remarkable." he falls silent for a moment before picking up again "you say aeons, can you be more precise?"

Reginald responded to Sam with a nod and was eyeballing the pie when Jean Louis made his exclamation about the Gods of Chaos. His eye then turned to the head monk. Coupled with what he had found below the monastery, the head priest's piqued interest had gotten the Runesmith's attention.

Now, he listened a little more closely to the conversation.

Slythe shrugs. "I am no ssssskink. They are the onessss who are mosssst knowledgeable.

"All I know issss that we have been fighting thissss war ssssinccccce before you warm bloodssss disssscovered fire."

The head monk then inquires what a Skink is and then what position they hold in the social structure of the Old Ones. Whats an Old One? As Slythe replies to the questions, Jean-Louis then latches onto new topics. Despite the Saurians rough nature and haughty or in some views rude replies he remains polite and riveted in the conversation. If Slythe has any counter questions he happily answers them.

The apple pie is delicious, the custard thick and creamy.

With the meal done the monks get about their business. Sam informs Valgard the villagers weapons will keep until morning, he's arranged the watch to compensate and they have back-ups. The Padre can be heard cursing Daemaer and elves in general as he wobbles back to his quarters and Jean-Louis will bid you good night unless he sees any of you on the watch later...

OOC:

When the group is finally alone, Reginald retells the story in the crypts. The hidden doorway behind the casket, the trap floor that gave way to the snake pit, the ensuing fight and their escape. He leaves out no detail, making sure they understand that they needed to head back down to ensure the door that lead to the underground stream be secured tightly.

"After we found the stream, we went back up and broke our way into that room we couldn't get into, the one just before we fell through the trap door. Remember? Right, well, it was someone's quarters, but it looked as though it hadn't been touched in some time. We looked around, finding a few items that may be of import... but the main item was something I daren't touch."

He described the chest he and his brother had found and the odd vibe it had given him.

"I wouldn't attempt opening such a thing without magical assistance." He looked at Daermaer and then Serestre and waited for any follow up questions.

Daemaer had retired with the others and listened to the story.

"Did the monks know anything about the snake? Also i am very intrigued by this chest. Hopefully we will have time to have a look at it! Ahhh so many things! Mystery! Intrigue! Chests! Snakes! Rats! Nearly dying!"

He leans back letting out a contented sigh.

"This is the life"

Slythe stood, silent and still.

He listened to the exchange and wondered how it could all fit together? or if it even did?

"You think itssss magical?" he asks Daemer, referring to whatever was inside the chest.
"If it issss, then maybe itsss what the ratsss are after?"

Reginald immediately responds to Daemaer. "I didn't mention any of our troubles to the monks lest I rouse their suspicion. If they aren't in on what's happening below the monastery, the news could shake their resolve before a potential fight. If they are, then they know we found the secret door and that's one more enemy we have to watch out for."

Valgard rested against the wall, butting in to the story where he had something to say, like the size of the snake, Reggie's inability to climb, and how enticing the chest looked.

He laughed at Daemaer's comment. "Aye, 'tis tha life. insurmountable glory 'til glorious death." He said, stepping forward from the wall.

"You folk find anything useful?"

Serestre needed a bit more information before being able to wonder at what exactly should be done about the chest. She thinks for a moment and then puts in her bit to the conversation.

"Was there any indication as to what type of person owned the chest? Any signs that might point to the religion or the race of the person? If I could see the chest...I might be able to help...but perhaps Daemar is more suited for this."

Reginald waited for an answer to Val's question before responding to Serestre.

"Human at least. One of the tunics he owned fit on a statue that was inside his quarters. Other than that... it is very hard to say. We need to get back down there soon, however. I don't want to leave that door or that chest to chance."

He grunts, "It could posssse a danger if left unintended." Slythe adds thoughtfully.

Daemaer stood up.

"No time like the present! Lets go down and check things out. I am feeling invigorated after that hearty meal."

Serestre nods her head as Reginald puts it all together for her as concisely as possible. She'd have to see the thing for herself before she knew exactly what the best course of action would be, but at least this gave her a headstart.

"I see...well I will still need to see it in order to gauge what should be done...however, with Shallya's blessing, I will hopefully be able to get rid of any taint that might have seeped into the place."

She looks over to the elf as he pipes up.

"Should we go now? I feel like they may need us to keep watch on things here. The monastery more than likely needs our help before we can go do anything further."

Daemaer paused.

"Hmm well didnt we need to secure the door down there anyways? How far away is the chest? I feel we prob wont be long...right?"

He looks at the others, obviously eager to get going.

Serestre nods her head at the comments, having been filled in with the information.

"Alright! Sounds like a plan. We shall see if we can get to the bottom of this..."

Daemaer nodded.

""Sounds like a plan! Yell really loud if you need us.

He winks, and gestures for Val to lead the way.

Slythe stands and hoists his celestite weapon.

He said nothing, but it was clear he was ready to go.

Valgard shows the way down into the darkness. The crypt like many crypts is musty, dusty and cob-webbed. Many monks rest here, the majority entombed in holes in the walls sealed with a metal plate, the deceased legend engraved upon it.

Serestre and Daemaer are guided through a secreted door leading away from the crypt and into a living area - Jean Louis had told of the rumour that his predecessor had a retreat, this must be it. Unlike the crypt this place is damp and moldy.

On the way through to the study Valgard will point out the strange statue which stood in the centre of an empty room.

The 'study' room is dominated by a large writing desk with a swivel-chair behind it. There is also a large leather chair in one corner and a pair of fine tapestries with strange symbols woven into the design hanging from the walls. The mysterious box, is a small black coffer marked with bizarre sigils and runes stands on a table against one wall.

With the others securing the crypt and figuring out that evil-looking box, Reginald paid Sam the monk a visit. He is guided to the workshop and presented with the bows in question.

"Right. Let's have a look, shall we?" Reginald took the weapons and began checking them thoroughly to be sure he understood what the issue was. Once that was complete, he got out his tools and got to work...

Serestre looked around at everything, taking it all in. So this was what one of the retreats of a higher-up looked like. She had known that at her own monastery, there had been places like this and hopefully they had all been pure and clean, but who knew with this one? Who knew with any of them?

Upon stepping in the room, she feels out with Shallya's grace, but feels nothing. Odd, she thought, one would have thought I could feel something. Perhaps Daemar will get a better sense for the room. Or perhaps everything is normal.

She looks at the coffer. It was odd and strange and she couldn't quite place it. The runes didn't make sense to her and if they were good or evil she had no idea. She does however notice the same symbol appearing at least twice on it.

"While I can't place it, this symbol here appears two times, once on the side, and once on the top. Can anyone figure out what it is? My mind is drawing a blank...but perhaps it is because I have never seen it before..."

Daemaer follows Val into the room, and casts his senses out.

After a few moments he feels on the edge of something but it seems to just slip out of his grasp.

"Hmmm im really not sure...as for the chest i have no idea whatsoever ha!"

He pauses for a moment.

"Ok, lets try this. Stand back please."

He moves as far as he can away from the chest and focuses his power before casting Dispel at the chest.

Daemaers spell appears to have no affect, but then it wouldn't as there is no visual magic in affect around the casket and certainly nothing you have been able to sense so far.

Slythe lumbers into the study and upon seeing the casket for but a moment lets out a long hiss, it sounds like a warning like a snake would make when disturbed. “Bewaresss” he gestures with a clawed finger to one of the symbols that looks like three over lapping lines or sticks in the form of a triangle “Thisss iss a symbol of the ssskaven.” He then points at the rough image of a horned head “this must be the Horned Rat”.

Serestre scratched her head and turned it to the side, a bit confused.

"While I have training and knowledge in religious studies, I am at a loss. Who is the Horned Rat?"

Slythes cold eyes regard Serestre "Their god" he replies simply

Reginald finished his work, handing Sam back his three crossbows. He points out one in particular. "This one is no good. With enough time, I could probably correct the issue, but not tonight I am afraid. The other two should shoot straight and true in capable hands. Was there anything else I could be of assistance with?"

He looked the man in the eye, waiting for him to respond. He was asking about smithing and weaponry in general, but he knew that in these lone times people liked to get things off their chest.

Sam smiles in thanks as he takes one of the fixed crossbows and tests it out. The big man easily pulls the string back the mended metal latch holding it firmly in place. He then sights along its length and pulls the trigger, the crossbow making a healthy twanging noise as the string is released and the limb springs back into place "The village folk will have a few blades that have seen better days, they would likely welcome a sharpening." as he speaks he takes the second fixed bow and repeats the test. "Its lucky you arrived when you did, helping with the Skaven aside, we've not had a visit for a few months from the local dwarves from their mine, we'd normally trade some ale and food stuffs for their skill in repairing both metal and stone."

While you chat he sends a passing junior monk to gather the weapons that need sharpening.

Reginald listened, his interest piqued. "A few months, you say? Hmm.. do you know which dwarf-hold they came from? How normal were their visits before that?"

Reginald laid out his Runesmithing tools on a nearby table. Closer still he took his whetstone and his waterskin and set them down. He would make sure the blades were sharpened to dwarf standards.

Sam considers the question for a moment "Karak Nurn, err... Norn" he corrects "I seem to recall one of them mentioning before." he sets the broken crossbow to one side and takes an interest in Reginalds tools "Oh, we perhaps see them four or five times a year so nothing unusual with a two month gap. The mine is some ten miles or so further into the valley."

Serestre knew that Slythe probably knew more about it, but perhaps it wasn't time to get into the details about the Skaven God.

"Um...well...yes. Thanks for that Slythe. Do you have any other information about the Skaven that might help us in determining if we should open this coffer up or not? I mean Daemar dispelled it, so perhaps it is okay..."

Daemaer sighed. He didn't think it would work.

He looked over as slythe came in.

"Skaven you say. Well there is a very high chance it is trapped I would say..."

He walks over and starts examining the chest more closely, being very careful not to touch it but looking closely

Slythe shrugs, an effect that was probably lost on non lizardfolk.

"Cold be trapped, maybe sssssafe now. Maybe was never trapped in the firsssst placccce."

"Only one way to find out. Sssssstay back." he says as he moves to the chest.

Once they had back up, (unless providing further complaint) he opens the chest.
He was not afraid of a filthy "god" who skulked about in dark places.

Iron and Metal wrote:

"Ah, well it doesn't seem like they are too far behind schedule. Is it the same group what comes down every time? Have you a contact there?"

"Its not the same faces every time, but I've spoken to Gimbrin the mines leader on occasion that he visits."

A couple of villagers approach interrupting your conversation, Sam smiles at them both. "This is Roger" Sam gestures to one of them, a short grey haired man "and this is Bart" he nods to the other, a tall skinny man with brown hair which has flecks of grey down the sides. "Gents, this is Reginald, he'll be seeing what he can do for your weapons." Bart hands over a handaxe which has many nicks on the blade, the edge is a little dulled although there has been some attempt at sharpening it "Much obliged Master dwarf." he gives Reg a toothless grin and Roger silently hands over a rusted shortsword.

Sylphilis wrote:

Slythe shrugs, an effect that was probably lost on non lizardfolk.

"Cold be trapped, maybe sssssafe now. Maybe was never trapped in the firsssst placccce."

"Only one way to find out. Sssssstay back." he says as he moves to the chest.

Once they had back up, (unless providing further complaint) he opens the chest.
He was not afraid of a filthy "god" who skulked about in dark places.

The caskets lid is jammed shut, there is no locking mechanism although there are hinges suggesting it might open... somehow.

Serestre raises a hand and it about to utter a word of caution as Slythe simply walks up and tries to open it. She winces and waits for the worst, but nothing happens immediately.

And then it comes. A flood of magic. She could sense it after the attempt to open the chest and that didn't bode well at all.

"Slythe, I'd be extra careful. You too Daemar. I just sensed a strong magical aura emanating from that thing after you touched it. Perhaps...we shouldn't touch it anymore?"

Slythe wasn't exactly surprised to find the box locked, but he wasn't expecting it either.

"Itssss locked. Perhapsssss we ssssshould break the hingesssss?" he asks, seeing the priest suddenly lose his spine.

"Gimbrin. Right, I'll remember the name. Just in case." When the newcomers enter, he greets them politely and takes their weapons. He had seen worse in his time. These just needed some tender love and care. He moves to the grinding stone, applies some water to the blade, and gets to work.

...When they are finished, he makes sure to rub in a nice coat of oil.

Daemaer's eyebrows rose as the Magic filled his senses.

"Well good morning sunshine. Before you have at the chest with your blade, let me try dispel the magic again...stand back please"

He waits till the others are back and moves back himself.

"Here we go..."

As Slythe withdraws his touch and Daemaer starts to cast his spell the magical emanations from box disappear as quickly as they came.

Slythe hadnt felt a thing when he tried to open the box.

"Are you done yetsssss." he growlingly asks Daemer.

He then tries to open it again, using hs strength to break the box open instead of a rusty locked mechanism.

Valgard shook his head. "Awright, we don' no wha's in tha box, other than it' got Skaven bits on it, and we're bein attacked by Skaven. So I say we keep it close ta us. Maybe we can use it ta draw the Skaven from the monastery, or 'ave one a them tell us wha's in it. What am really sayin is, maybe is na somethin we wanna open, yeah?" He says, putting a hand on the box.

"Let's 'ead back up an block off the entry from down 'ere, then we can see wha's gonna 'appen tonight. Good?'

Serestre nods her head at Valgard's comment.

"I think it best to do that. Let's just take it with it. Perhaps, the monks know something about it..."

Daemaer nodded at the Dwarf.

"Good plan. Definitely need more to look at this, which we probably dont have."