1. The Cloakwood

"We shall rule them from an Iron Throne built from the weapons of our trade," Aiwë sings. "It does sound a fair bit like a group that would revere a dead god of murder and assassins." She runs her hand across the relief on the wall.

"Folk will stick to even a dead god, if they feel like he justifies them. That's all they need. But still, does Bhaal have a pantheon he left behind? Like how Gruumsh left Luthic and Shargaas?"

Each of Dieter's swings would have slain a normal wolf, but had his sword not been magical, it would have done little to hurt this unnatural creature. But magical it is, and it bites deeply into the dread wolf's flesh! Under the onslaught, the growl turns to a whimper of pain, and then finally to a human grunt.

Dieter can't see her, but from her gasping breaths he knows she's back to her human form. Her bare footsteps splash in the blood from the two corpses as she retreats a short distance down the passage, the sound of hands slapping stone a sign that she can no longer see in this darkness.

Then she stops.

"If you are death... you are a failure, Dieter!"

She begins chanting, and there's a dim glow of light from her fingers as she casts her spell. Enough light that Dieter can make out the large bell hanging from the ceiling. And a large circle of wood protruding from the wall.

On the far side of the Plug, the shadow druid causes roots to grow out of the floor, ceiling, and walls. They slip into the smallest cracks around the Plug's edge and then surge with growth. A magical rune appears on the Plug's surface, and for a moment it seems that even this druidic magic won't be enough to pop it open. But then the woman's eyes glow with nature's pure wrath, and under her outstretched hands the roots swell even larger...

...and the Plug breaks.

Koveras shakes his head. "I never wanted to know anything about Bhaal." He turns away from the room. "I still don't."

oh no.

Aldous pipes up. "Well, from my studies I know that Bhaal was one of the Dark Three, now known as the Dead Three. Alongside Bane and Myrkul, that is." He tilts his head as he regards the foreboding symbols. "Mortality, to godhood, to whatever gods become when they die."

He turns to Aiwe and shrugs. "I don't know that the Dead Three ever had much in the way of company beyond each other. Bhaal least of all. I suppose Bane probably lorded over a number of other gods... What that might have to do with our cultists here, I've no idea."

No no no no no no

"WATER! GET OUT!" Dieter yells at the top of his lungs. He screams it until his throat is raw.

He runs to Daveron’s lift. If the lift isn’t on its way down he starts sending it down all the while screaming down the hole "GET OUT!"

"I want to know as much as I can, if it keeps more victims from his hands." Aiwë folds her arms with a frown. "Myrkul was resurrected. If he can be... Well. We better figure out what the Iron Throne is really up to." She looks at Stephan.

"Who is your family? Where do they live?"

Stephan's about to answer, when the sound of falling water comes from the direction of Davaeorn's personal lift.

Stephan immediately pales. "...we're all going to die..."

"GO! GO!" with a voice that booms too loud for her frame, Aiwë herds everyone out the door.

Dieter lets out a yelp of elation and stress as the lift starts to go up. He looks around if there’s a manual crank to assist it with.

Quote:

"Actually, I was wondering why you handed these to me. I figured it was just to hold them for a minute. Isn't that what gentlemen do, hold stuff for ladies?"

She smiles, her stiff demeanor finally softening for the first time since entering the compound. "Yes, it was just to hold them for now. But I just wanted to make certain."

Quote:

"They don't exactly give off an aura of nice, you know?"

She puts a finger to her lips as she purses them. "Mmm, you're quite right. Not very fitting for you at all."

She grows solemn as the discussion turns to discuss dead gods and cultists.

When the sounds of alarm come, her face pales and her eyes widen in panic, scoops up her fallen bow and staff and joins the group in their sudden escape.

Stella screams as the floor breaks and she clings onto Aiwë. She draws a brief constellation, then tries her best to give her some room to help Runeson. "Strength of the Centaur..." (Guidance for +1d4 on a check to help Runeson)

With the crack of wood and Stella's scream, Aiwë grabs her immediately, but it wasn't her who needed the help. "Runeson!" With a sudden surge of cosmic strength, she grips the backplate of his armour and hauls him onto the unbroken part of the platform.

"Don't stand up!" She shouts over the rushing water. "We need to spread our weight, like on weak ice!"

In the cramped conditions and sound of the water, Aiwë can't tell who it is that's upset, except she knows they're all upset.

"My mother says I have Orcish eyes," she begins with the first song that comes to mind. "Orcish eyes!" her cry echoes into the shaft. "Orcish eyes. My mother says I have Orcish eyes. They're as strong as the sun in the cloudless sky, but they're never so strong as when I let them cry."

Her song has a strong beat, drawing the others into it and encouraging their beating hearts and heaving breaths to align. ((Aiwë casts Calm Emotion))

"My father says I have Elvish hair, Elvish hair! Elvish hair.
Brown like the bark of the Oak so fair,
Like the bed of a lake where the hemlock grows,
Like the thorn in the stem of a blooming rose.

I'm a map of the world and the ones before, one foot in sea and one on shore, every step every hope held high! Im a map of them all with my Orcish eyes."

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Dieter attempts to assist the machine