Mica places one hand over his ear as the dinosaur screams, then scrambles inside and helps Ran close and bar the gate once everyone enters.  “Madness, sheer madness.” 

He pants for breath and looks over at Eryndor “You were right, but I don’t think we can count on it to recognize us as allies.  It doesn’t know who it is and it wants to kill everything. Best we let it ram against the walls and take some attention away from us.” 

Mica looks around the immediate area “But it doesn’t look like they are too concerned about it right now.  Where is everyone?”

[We are back out of initiative - for now...]

The party slams the heavy gate shut behind them, barring it with a stout wooden beam just as the thunderous footfalls of the King of Feathers draw near.  They can hear the sound of massive jaws snapping shut on air, and then more roars of frustration.  For now, the wooden walls stand between them and the cursed monster.

Inside, stillness greets them.  This fort feels abandoned.  The wide courtyard within the palisade is choked with trampled grass and patches of churned mud.  Jungle heat radiates off the dirt and stone, thick with the hum of insects.

To the left and right, squat wooden buildings are arranged in rows, barracks built of cut jungle hardwood, their shutters hanging open and swinging lazily in the warm breeze.  A few weapons lean against doorframes.  One building’s door creaks softly as it rocks back and forth, unlatched.

Near the western edge of the fort, a low structure with an open front and sagging roof reveals piles of cracked crates, weapon racks, and sacks of grain.  Flies swarm over them, buzzing loudly in the humid air.  A foul, sickly-sweet smell wafts from within—something left to rot.

Toward the southern wall, a massive longhouse-like building stands open to the air, its sides half-collapsed.  The stench here is sharper: the unmistakable odor of old animal waste, mixed with the fetid reek of mold.  This was once a stable for something big, now empty.  Piles of dry dung lie untouched, and clouds of insects rise in angry bursts with every movement nearby.

But it's the center of the fort that commands their attention.

A cracked, black obelisk rises some fifty feet from the earth, its surface veined with jagged scars and half-swallowed by a strangling mass of vines and thick black moss.  Though weathered and ancient, the stone pulses faintly in the corner of the eye as if some subtle magic clings to it.   A few tables and desks are scattered around its base, bearing quills, broken scroll cases, scraps of parchment, and a spilled bottle of ink, drying in the sun.

Behind the obelisk, partially hidden by shadows and hanging moss, a wide tunnel yawns in the cliffside.  The stone is smoother here, as though once worked.  This tunnel leads into the cliff face itself, darkness quickly obscuring what might lay beyond.

To the west, a second tunnel mouth has clearly collapsed.  Huge slabs of broken rock and dust choke its entrance.  Whatever was once there has been sealed, intentionally or not.

The only motion now is far above.  The mooring platform clings to the cliff face nearly 300 feet up, a wooden lattice of scaffolding and rope bridges supporting the Thayan airship. Distant figures, some in red robes, move slowly and methodically along the gangways and scaffolds on the cliff adjacent to the airship.  The faint clang of wood on wood and the creak of rope pulleys drift down with the wind.

But on the ground, here inside the fortress?  Nothing stirs.

Meili stood near the gate a moment longer, listening and flinching a little with every slam of the massive body on the other side.

“Guess we don’t need him here after all - no guards to attack.” She sighed and nodded at Mica’s words. “We can’t save him, but he can distract whoever’s watching. Though…”

She looked toward the obelisk. “I’ve got a feeling the only one watching is that stone. Creepy as everything else in this place.”

Then she gestured toward the dark tunnel behind it. “That’s where they should’ve gone. The wizards. And the mercs who didn’t run fast enough. Guess we follow?”

She glanced at the others to see if they agreed, then started moving - carefully, scanning the barracks and surrounding buildings as she crossed toward the tunnel mouth.

Ran looks around the compound and frowns.

"This looks like it's been abandoned for awhile, but the wizards up top don't seem too stressed by the whole thing." Ran says.

He moves to the entrance to the tunnel, holding the new lamp up high, and listening for any sound from within.

Perception: 12 

As the party makes their way toward the tunnel entrance, they pause at one smaller structure with a sagging thatch roof.  A sickly, coppery stench wafts from the doorway—stronger, more specific than the general rot clinging to the rest of the fort.  Something in this room is foul.

Inside, the dim light reveals a crude but deliberate laboratory.  Two thick wooden tables dominate the cramped interior, both stained dark with old blood and strange, black ichor.  One table holds the ravaged remains of a dwarf—or what was once a dwarf.  Its body is desiccated and gray, bearing the lean muscle and leathery skin you have seen before on wights.  Most disturbingly, its head is encased in a rusted, iron pyramid, bolted and fused where its face should be.  A few of the pyramid’s facets bear shallow etched runes, but they seem partially melted or scoured away.  A half-dissected arm lies nearby, with wires and sinew delicately pinned apart.

On the second table is something far worse.  Taller than a man, it is an unholy amalgam of corpses sewn and bolted together.  A massive frame made from ogre limbs, a scaled thigh that may have belonged to a dinosaur, a human torso, all bound together with thick stitches of black twine and metal pins.  Much of its flesh is peeled back, and strange, dark tubing is coiled within its chest cavity.  Crudely fashioned pieces of plate armor remains attached in places, riveted directly onto bone and sinew.  One gauntlet still twitches faintly, likely a post-mortem reflex, though the golem is unquestionably inert.

A cracked chalkboard against the far wall displays a half-sketched diagram of the giant, with notes.

Whatever Red Wizard had worked here, their study was cold and clinical.  But now, there is no sign of the artificer, only the picked-apart remains of the undead abominations they were dissecting.

Moving further toward the tunnel they pass the towering black obelisk.

It rises fifty feet into the air, a monolith of cracked black stone that seemingly drinks the light rather than reflects it.  The surface is slick with moisture from the humid jungle, though its surface appears to have been recently cleaned or even polished.  Even without reading the runes, there’s something wrong about the obelisk—it leans ever so slightly, as if resisting gravity itself, and the air near it carries a low, constant pressure.  Flies give it a wide berth.  No insects crawl on it.  The jungle, normally oppressive with life, seems to recoil from this place.

Around its base, a trio of desks and worktables have been hastily arranged, half-covered by a canvas awning that sags with mildew. Papers are strewn about, some tacked down with old daggers, others curling with damp. 

[Do you wish to examine anything else here more closely before approaching the tunnel?]

Meili looked at the remains of the dwarf with a mix of disgust and deep sadness. "I think I was too hard on Velan. Denying him vengeance against those monsters..." She clearly meant the Red Wizards, not their victims. "They deserved whatever he planned for them."

She turned away and kept walking, giving the obelisk a wide berth.
"This thing feels as unnatural as it looks. If we let the Prince," she meant the dinosaur, "in here, do you think he'd attack it? Try to destroy it?"
She shook her head and answered herself after a beat. "I doubt it. Let’s just keep moving."

Ran's onboard with Meili. He doesn't want to spend anymore time near that obelisk then he has too. But he does look at their resident magic-using bard and asks "Do you think this thing could be the source of the death magic? Think they were trying to learn to control it?"

He pauses then muses "Maybe this is what is causing dino prince out there all his problems."

Mica shrugs “The obelisk marked the gate, remember the vision?”  Mica looked over at Meili, she was better with the prophecy than he was “The source of the magic is probably down there.”  Mica points toward the dark tunnel.  "But why is this place abandoned?  What if they already pulled whatever it was out and are loading it on the airship now?”  Mica squints up toward the airship, one hand covering his eyes, in an attempt to see if there are any signs of cargo or activity on the ship.

"Or they’re all inside," Meili said.
"That Cormiran did say the wizards found what they were looking for down there. Fought over it. And planned to take every able body - as a body - to dig up whatever they came for."

She continued to move towards the tunnel.

"Alright then. Quick peek at what's down the dark scary tunnel. If they're already done, we figure out how to get up on to the bleeding airship," Ran says. Then he pauses and smiles. "You know what, I think we take that airship either way. Seems like a much nicer way to get back to port."

He then heads into the tunnel, scanning ahead for any traps left behind by the wizards or mercs.

Quote from Thoradin_Orcbender >>

Ran's onboard with Meili. He doesn't want to spend anymore time near that obelisk then he has too. But he does look at their resident magic-using bard and asks "Do you think this thing could be the source of the death magic? Think they were trying to learn to control it?"

He pauses then muses "Maybe this is what is causing dino prince out there all his problems."

Eryndor’s expression darkens as he studies the towering obelisk, fingers tightening slightly around the neck of his lute.

"The shape of it… the weight in the air—it feels wrong, like a song played in reverse." His voice is low, thoughtful. "If it isn’t the source of the death magic, it may be a root or a tuning fork. And aye, I’d wager someone tried to bend its power to their will."

He shifts his stance, drawing the lute close, and begins to play—a slow, circling melody, soft and searching. The chords shimmer with quiet resonance as  notes weave into the air like threads seeking truth. Eryndor narrows his eyes, listening not just with his ears, but with his arcane senses tuned to whatever hidden forces hum beneath the obelisk’s surface.

Eryndor looks over the Obelisk with new eyes, taking in the magic pulsing through the oily, black stone.  

Eryndor:

 Glancing at the tables and notes, they seem to be attempts at deciphering some of the messages carved onto the obelisk...

• "In Darkness, it hides..."
  • Is this a vague reference to the artifact we seek?
  • Of course.  A shadow demon.  These might be more literal than we suspected.
• "Don the masks or be seen..."
  • Likely related to the wights in the tomb on the first level.  No trap was located here.  And dispatching the wights proved simple enough for the mercenaries.
• "Speak no truth to the doomed child..."
  • Another riddle?  Some sort of trap or illusion?
  • Mercenaries reported seeing a child hiding on the first level.  Could it be related to those explosions?
• "The keys turn on the inside only..."
  • Walking skeletons shaped like keys have been spotted on lower levels.
  • Nevermind.  Reports indicate this solves a trap in another of the first floor tombs.  Trial and error cost us quite a few mercenaries.

Other notes ruminate on the nature of the obelisk itself.

• "Anchor point confirmed.  The Obelisk is attuned to boundary thresholds and tied to extraplanar fail-safes."

• "Disruption field increases near Tomb entry.  We can safely assume the obelisk is regulating passage or containment."

• "Attempted divination: FAILED.  Feedback burned the prisoner's eyes."

• "Warning: no contact with stone directly.  Contact triggers displacement or psychological rupture."

• "What even is this thing?"

Further down the page:

• "The ebon pool is the other end of the gate.  "
• "Marbles are limited.  The Fox charges a high price.  Transport through the obelisk not permitted without approval of Lady Shadowmantle."

Eryndor’s eyes flash as the final note fades. “Wait! This obelisk—it's a gate out, not in. Conjuration laced with death—it emits what lies below. The source is deeper.” He gestures to the surrounding notes. “There are warnings here… and guidance. We’d be wise to read before we descend.”

That made sense, even with a dinosaur trying to tear the gates down. Meili glanced toward the walls, still holding for now, then back at the dark tunnel leading to the deadly unknown. She gave a short nod.

"Warnings could actually help us. I doubt the Red Wizards expected anyone else to get this far - they wouldn’t bother with traps in their own notes."
She looked at Eryndor. "Can you read them now, or do you need time to make sense of it?"

The area, thick with heat, rot, and the unnatural press of death magic, was no place to linger. But leaving useful knowledge behind felt just as dangerous.

Mica stares up at the dark obelisk and grunts, waving toward the papers. “Never got much use out of papers, I will leave that to you.  Read through them, or take them along with us.” 

He follows Ran towards the tunnel entrance. “Hold up, Ran. Let’s not push too far ahead until Eryndor is ready.”  Mica kneels down at the entrance to the tunnel, one hand on the ground and tries to make sense of the jumble of tracks and signs surrounding both that entrance, and the one that collapsed.

Survival: 16.

Looking for any signs that an artifact may have been pulled out of the tunnel, or any sign that people have gone in and not returned.  On the collapsed tunnel, was  the collapse natural or man-made?

Ran stops and waits for Mica.

"Did he just read something about a kid hiding down there?" Ran asks. "That can't be good. Undead, sure, but a kid surviving in there too. That seems a tad unsettling."

While waiting for the others to finish going through the papers, Ran looks around for the bird.

"Hey Shep," he calls to his sister-bird. "Are you going to stay up here or come underground with us?"

If he wishes, Eryndor can grab all of the notes on the table.

Checking the entryway, Mica sees innumerable tracks, going both in and out.  He also sees that there is a stone slab in the ceiling that once was a gate or doorway here.  The edges around the slab have metal pitons hammered into place to hold the slab from lowering, and a silver rod, 6 feet long, is also shoved into the space, holding the slab up.

The bird looks down the dark tunnel, then back out at the sunshine.  "RAWRK!  Good luck! (whistle)" the bird calls, then flutters off of Ran's shoulder to the top of the palisade wall, its red feathers gleaming.

[Are we entering the tunnel?]

Eryndor grabs the notes, organizing them hastily and sticking them in his pack. He then follows Ran down the tunnel.

(To the tunnel!) Meili adjusted the mask and went into the tunnels.

Perception: 12

Mica grunts as the others move ahead of him.  “Once more into the darkness..” he mumbles to himself and follows the others into the tunnel, serving as a rear guard and giving the empty camp and the obelisk one last glance before they are lost behind him.