We are considering between two difficult options. I do not trust either option; there is a third, that we continue exploring for another means of egress.
An expression of shock crosses Korans face, followed by an almost embarrassed giggle. "We do have a third option I think we've all forgotten about. We never finished walking the exterior of the ruins, never finished looking for other ways down. We could go back outside and keep checking for other paths."
Elias blinks, then slowly brings a hand to his temple as a half-smile pulls at his lips, both amused and a little chagrined.
“Of course,” he murmurs. “We were so wrapped in the choices before us, we forgot the simplest truth: the ruins above aren’t done speaking yet.”
He straightens, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
“Koran, you may have just saved us from walking into a trap... or drifting into a worse one.”
He turns to Ardana and nods in agreement. “And you’re right—we don’t have to choose between two dangers when a third might lead us around them both.”
Looking to the group, he continues, more energized now.
“Let’s go back up. We finish what we started—circle the keep properly, search every wall, every corner. If there’s another way down, I’d much rather find it together than be ferried alone or forced to harm someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Then, with a smirk and a slight raise of his brow: “Besides, I’d prefer fresh air for a few minutes before descending deeper into the belly of this place.”
The party finally decides to complete the perimeter reconnaissance outside.
Tethis waves her hand as our heroes walk the spiral staircase back up.
The creatures pretending to be statues are back in place - acting like statues - and, recognizing the party, they don't even bother moving. It's clear that, as far as they're concerned, the party has permission to roam there. One of them just winks almost imperceptibly at Ardana.
The group thus completes the perimeter of the ruins... but no new access is discovered. So, the choice is still between: - Spiral staircase leading to Tethis' room. - Hole surrounded by thick giant webs - the webs now seem a little less thick, at least down the hole. - Spiral staircase near the corpse of the monstrous worm.
Elias steps out into the open air, his lungs filling with the damp, earthy scent of the surface. For a brief moment, the weight on his chest lightens, the dread of the deep loosening its grip. He closes his eyes and tilts his face to the breeze, letting it wash over him.
But it doesn’t last.
As the party circles the ruins and one by one confirms there are no other hidden entrances, the feeling of inevitability returns, like the tide creeping back in.
The choices lay before them again, stark and unchanged:
Tethis’ guarded spiral, a path known to be watched and possibly controlled.
The web-choked sinkhole, now perhaps passable, but still ominous.
And the spiral staircase near the worm’s corpse, the most straightforward… and the least defined.
Elias stops near the edge of the collapsed battle site, looking down at the darkened mouth of the staircase that led beneath the dead worm. The sight of the monster's lifeless, coiled body does nothing to reassure him—but neither does anything else.
He turns to the others, his expression calm but resolute.
"We’ve seen what the direct path holds," he says, nodding toward Tethis’ staircase. "And the webbed descent could still be crawling with creatures waiting for a fresh fight."
He gestures toward the third option. "But this staircase… it’s unclaimed. Unwatched. Possibly untouched."
He looks to Ardana, Woodrow, Tarysaa, and Koran, his voice steady.
"I say we go down this way. Quietly. Carefully. If it leads to danger, we face it together—but at least we won't be walking into someone else's plan."
He rests a hand on the hilt of his dagger—a symbolic gesture more than anything, since his true weapon is spell and wit—and waits for the others to answer.
The party begins to descend the dark spiral staircase, accompanied by the echo of their footsteps and welcomed by a musty smell that becomes stronger and stronger.
After a while, our heroes estimate that they have descended approximately to the level of Thetis's room, to which the other spiral staircase had led them, but this staircase descends further.
Or rather... it would descend further, because from that point on it is flooded! The only way to proceed would be to continue descending... until they submerge and continue under the water level. Not ideal conditions, for those who usually breathe air...
Elias stops at the edge of the flooded stair, his boot heels just above the dark water’s surface. The air is thick with the stench of mildew and long-sitting moisture, clinging to every breath. He squints into the gloom below, trying to gauge how far the water might continue, but the reflection of their light offers only murky shadows in return.
He draws in a slow breath through his nose, then lets it out in a sigh.
“Well,” he murmurs, “we wanted a path no one else was watching. I daresay we’ve found it.”
His expression tightens—not from fear, but from the weight of practicality.
“There’s no telling how long the passage stays submerged… and unless any of you have gills tucked under your cloaks, we’ll need a solution before we commit to going under.”
He eyes the water again, then looks to Tarysaa. “Can you sense how far it goes? Or whether there’s any chance of an air pocket or dry chamber beyond?”
Then, to the group as a whole: “This path could still be useful… but unless we’re ready to swim blind and hope the water ends, I think we’ll need another plan—or a way to breathe below.”
"I fear you over estimate my abilities,Elias. Even if I were of a druidic bent, it would take an Archdruid to dissipate such a body of water as this, " Tarysaa spoke softly as she peered down into the watery depths. "None of the Harpell training touched on something like this."
"Then I shall adjust my expectations accordingly," he says with a wry smile. "Though, for the record, I suspect your abilities are still considerably underrated—particularly by yourself."
He turns back toward the flooded stair, arms folding across his chest as he exhales slowly.
"So we are left with three choices again: gamble with the Ferryman, confront Thetis and take the Lords’ path, or..." he gestures downward, "find a way to breathe underwater."
He looks back at the group, eyes settling on each of them in turn.
"We can’t drain this place, we can’t hold our breath long enough to risk a blind swim, and we can’t split the party without real danger."
Then he pauses and murmurs almost to himself, "Which means... it might finally be time to speak with Geados again."
He straightens, his tone regaining steadiness.
"Unless someone has a secret gill spell or a barrel of air tucked into their pack, I suggest we climb back up and decide—ferry or Thetis’ corridor. We’ve tested every wall. We’ve turned every stone."
Ardana ponders the situation. The dungeons of the ruined keep are certainly inhospitable, but there are nagging aspects to the story she is not quite able to wrap her head around. She turns to Wood.
If we accept that the boy is now one of the Lords, was he always so? I am inclined to think there is more of this mystery to discover back in town whether the answer is yay or nay. If he has always had the capability to change, what does that say about the mother? Wood, could you tell if the mother, also, can change? And if he has been taken and replaced by this shapeshifter, then too more of the mystery can be revealed in the village? Wood, what do you think?
Elias, already halfway turned toward the stair, pauses at Ardana’s question. He turns slowly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity as he listens to her line of thought. There’s a different tone to her voice now—less about tactics and more about unraveling a deeper thread.
He says nothing for the moment, letting her words hang in the cool, damp air as they all turn to Woodrow, whose keen senses and grounded instincts have already proven invaluable.
Ardana’s logic is sharp—if the boy was always one of the Lords, what does that imply about his origins, his mother, and the townspeople who knew him? And if he was replaced, when? How? And why so little concern shown by Thetis, who only offered warnings and vague sympathy?
Elias gently steps closer, folding his arms as he adds in a quiet voice, "She's right, Wood. If the boy was never a boy, then what exactly was the village dealing with this whole time? And if he was taken and replaced… the mother’s story might not be as it seems."
He gestures lightly. "You spoke with her more directly than any of us. What did you sense? Did anything feel... wrong?"
They had come seeking a missing child and stumbled into a network of shapeshifters, fey-bound servants, and fiendish deals. But Ardana’s point cuts deeper: had the mystery already begun before they ever descended into the ruins?
"As I tried pointing out earlier, skilled shapeshifters means everyone we meet could be the same one or two people. It is far more likely the boy has been taken or killed and replaced than that he was always a shape-shifter and nobody noticed. The problem with following this thought is that we can literally trust no one to be open and honest. You would need to assume they are lying in order to maintain the illusion they are creating."
Elias turns toward Koran, his eyes thoughtful, and slowly nods.
"You’re right," he says quietly, the weight of it settling in his tone. "If we accept that these Lords from Below are capable of changing their form with ease, then every encounter becomes a question of performance. Truth becomes camouflage. Deception becomes routine."
He pauses, folding his arms as he looks back down the dark, flooded stair.
"And the most dangerous kind of lie is the one that tells you exactly what you want to hear."
His gaze shifts to Ardana, then Woodrow, then to the others.
"Koran raises a grim but necessary truth—we are not dealing with ordinary enemies. These are creatures who turn familiarity into a weapon, who build trust only to poison it. If the boy was replaced, then yes, perhaps we can still learn something from the village. But if he was always one of them, then the corruption may go deeper than we imagined."
He lets the silence settle a beat before continuing.
"So the real question is this: do we continue deeper into the den of deceivers, knowing full well they will use illusion, manipulation, and fear to turn us against one another… or do we return to the village and begin unraveling what we now suspect may be a much older lie?"
He looks back toward Geados’ watery path, then toward the spiral staircase that would lead them back to the surface.
"Both paths lead into darkness. One takes us into the depths below. The other... back to where this began."
Wood studies the group for a minute, considering their words carefully, let's out a long sigh, I'm not sure what's going on. I believe Tarsakh is being truthful and straight up with me, with us, concerning her son. Her love for him is unquestionable and unshaking in my opinion. Young Mival, well I can't put my finger on it but something's off. Something about this whole story is off. I've known him since he was a youngling and he's always been curious, sometimes too curious for his own good. his thoughts trail off for a minute and his face scrunches up in thought, have any of you, in your travels and adventures, ever come across a shapeshifter? A creature that can assume the likeness of another? I think something like that maybe going on here but for the life of me I can't figure out why. I'd like to keep looking for the boy, I gave my word to his mother. I understand if you'd like to go back to town and investigate some but I feel like every minute he's down here is a minute closer to me loosing him. He looks the party over, from one face to another, his face almost pleading to continue.
Tarysaa listens to the discussion as she kneels down on the spiral staircase and reaches out a finger that hovers above the water's dark surface. She pauses as something Elisa said echos in her thoughts...
"And the most dangerous kind of lie is the one that tells you exactly what you want to hear."
"Not just hear, perhaps?" she speaks softly to herself.
{game log} Intelligence Check "disbelieve" vs Illusion - 21
Elias listens to Wood’s words in full, watching as the normally grounded man lays bare his uncertainty, his honesty, and his loyalty—not just to the boy, but to the promise he made to the mother. When Wood’s voice trails off, and that moment of vulnerability creeps in, Elias feels it settle deep within him.
He steps forward, placing a firm, steady hand on Wood’s shoulder, and for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just lets the silence affirm the bond of trust between them.
"Wood, your instincts have led us this far. And while there is deception all around us, there is none in your voice." He glances at the others. "If Mival is still down here—if there’s any chance of saving him—then I say we keep searching."
Elias turns to look once more into the dark spiral below, the shadows of the dungeon waiting in silence.
"Let’s go back to Geados. Let’s take the ferry—together. We’ll pay our fare and face whatever lies beyond. Not because we trust what’s waiting for us, but because we trust each other to face it head-on."
He nods solemnly, then adds with a half-smile, "And if we find the boy… we make sure it’s truly the boy."
Tarysaa's examination is careful and thorough - she makes good use of the many times she has had to distinguish illusory effects from real ones during the Harpells' imaginative but not perfectly functional magical experiments.
Ultimately, the Harpells' envoy's conclusion is that the water is definitely real - and in fact, roughly speaking, the surface level of the water in this section of the spiral staircase should be about the same height as the surface of the water found in the other section of the dungeon. Presumably, even if this spiral staircase, for now, has no connection with the rest of the dunegon, as it descends it will... and the water has therefore reached the same level here too.
Tarysaa slowly stands and gives a tiny sigh. "Near as I can discern, it is not an illusion but, 'just water'. No telling what may lurk IN those 'just waters' but... "
Her lips are a thin line drawn across her elven features, "This feels like an either - or moment. Either we go in deeper; blindly. Or we regroup back in the village and let Wood, Elias and company do some prodding to see if the entire village is just a cover for whatever lurks below the ruins."
"I admit the village choice would be a bit self serving." She lowers her head to hide her flushed cheeks. "A long rest in the village would allow me to rearrange my spells I might cast to better combat web filled rooms and, perhaps something to better work in watery conditions. I travelled here expecting ruins... not a functioning swamp lair. Nor was aware of a missing child until I entered the tavern. Again, I selected for detecting a missing or hidden child; not for combating dungeon dwellers."
We are considering between two difficult options. I do not trust either option; there is a third, that we continue exploring for another means of egress.
An expression of shock crosses Korans face, followed by an almost embarrassed giggle. "We do have a third option I think we've all forgotten about. We never finished walking the exterior of the ruins, never finished looking for other ways down. We could go back outside and keep checking for other paths."
Elias blinks, then slowly brings a hand to his temple as a half-smile pulls at his lips, both amused and a little chagrined.
“Of course,” he murmurs. “We were so wrapped in the choices before us, we forgot the simplest truth: the ruins above aren’t done speaking yet.”
He straightens, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.
“Koran, you may have just saved us from walking into a trap... or drifting into a worse one.”
He turns to Ardana and nods in agreement. “And you’re right—we don’t have to choose between two dangers when a third might lead us around them both.”
Looking to the group, he continues, more energized now.
“Let’s go back up. We finish what we started—circle the keep properly, search every wall, every corner. If there’s another way down, I’d much rather find it together than be ferried alone or forced to harm someone who doesn’t deserve it.”
Then, with a smirk and a slight raise of his brow:
“Besides, I’d prefer fresh air for a few minutes before descending deeper into the belly of this place.”
Wood follows the party back out, takes a minute to take in the sun.
The party finally decides to complete the perimeter reconnaissance outside.
Tethis waves her hand as our heroes walk the spiral staircase back up.
The creatures pretending to be statues are back in place - acting like statues - and, recognizing the party, they don't even bother moving. It's clear that, as far as they're concerned, the party has permission to roam there. One of them just winks almost imperceptibly at Ardana.
The group thus completes the perimeter of the ruins... but no new access is discovered. So, the choice is still between:
- Spiral staircase leading to Tethis' room.
- Hole surrounded by thick giant webs - the webs now seem a little less thick, at least down the hole.
- Spiral staircase near the corpse of the monstrous worm.
Elias steps out into the open air, his lungs filling with the damp, earthy scent of the surface. For a brief moment, the weight on his chest lightens, the dread of the deep loosening its grip. He closes his eyes and tilts his face to the breeze, letting it wash over him.
But it doesn’t last.
As the party circles the ruins and one by one confirms there are no other hidden entrances, the feeling of inevitability returns, like the tide creeping back in.
The choices lay before them again, stark and unchanged:
Tethis’ guarded spiral, a path known to be watched and possibly controlled.
The web-choked sinkhole, now perhaps passable, but still ominous.
And the spiral staircase near the worm’s corpse, the most straightforward… and the least defined.
Elias stops near the edge of the collapsed battle site, looking down at the darkened mouth of the staircase that led beneath the dead worm. The sight of the monster's lifeless, coiled body does nothing to reassure him—but neither does anything else.
He turns to the others, his expression calm but resolute.
"We’ve seen what the direct path holds," he says, nodding toward Tethis’ staircase. "And the webbed descent could still be crawling with creatures waiting for a fresh fight."
He gestures toward the third option. "But this staircase… it’s unclaimed. Unwatched. Possibly untouched."
He looks to Ardana, Woodrow, Tarysaa, and Koran, his voice steady.
"I say we go down this way. Quietly. Carefully. If it leads to danger, we face it together—but at least we won't be walking into someone else's plan."
He rests a hand on the hilt of his dagger—a symbolic gesture more than anything, since his true weapon is spell and wit—and waits for the others to answer.
This stair promises to lead us to the other side of the ferryman's journey, worth investigating. Let's go.
Ardana is ready and committed to this new course.
The party begins to descend the dark spiral staircase, accompanied by the echo of their footsteps and welcomed by a musty smell that becomes stronger and stronger.
After a while, our heroes estimate that they have descended approximately to the level of Thetis's room, to which the other spiral staircase had led them, but this staircase descends further.
Or rather... it would descend further, because from that point on it is flooded! The only way to proceed would be to continue descending... until they submerge and continue under the water level. Not ideal conditions, for those who usually breathe air...
Elias stops at the edge of the flooded stair, his boot heels just above the dark water’s surface. The air is thick with the stench of mildew and long-sitting moisture, clinging to every breath. He squints into the gloom below, trying to gauge how far the water might continue, but the reflection of their light offers only murky shadows in return.
He draws in a slow breath through his nose, then lets it out in a sigh.
“Well,” he murmurs, “we wanted a path no one else was watching. I daresay we’ve found it.”
His expression tightens—not from fear, but from the weight of practicality.
“There’s no telling how long the passage stays submerged… and unless any of you have gills tucked under your cloaks, we’ll need a solution before we commit to going under.”
He eyes the water again, then looks to Tarysaa. “Can you sense how far it goes? Or whether there’s any chance of an air pocket or dry chamber beyond?”
Then, to the group as a whole:
“This path could still be useful… but unless we’re ready to swim blind and hope the water ends, I think we’ll need another plan—or a way to breathe below.”
"I fear you over estimate my abilities, Elias. Even if I were of a druidic bent, it would take an Archdruid to dissipate such a body of water as this, " Tarysaa spoke softly as she peered down into the watery depths. "None of the Harpell training touched on something like this."
Elias gives Tarysaa a soft, understanding nod.
"Then I shall adjust my expectations accordingly," he says with a wry smile. "Though, for the record, I suspect your abilities are still considerably underrated—particularly by yourself."
He turns back toward the flooded stair, arms folding across his chest as he exhales slowly.
"So we are left with three choices again: gamble with the Ferryman, confront Thetis and take the Lords’ path, or..." he gestures downward, "find a way to breathe underwater."
He looks back at the group, eyes settling on each of them in turn.
"We can’t drain this place, we can’t hold our breath long enough to risk a blind swim, and we can’t split the party without real danger."
Then he pauses and murmurs almost to himself, "Which means... it might finally be time to speak with Geados again."
He straightens, his tone regaining steadiness.
"Unless someone has a secret gill spell or a barrel of air tucked into their pack, I suggest we climb back up and decide—ferry or Thetis’ corridor. We’ve tested every wall. We’ve turned every stone."
“Now we choose.”
Ardana ponders the situation. The dungeons of the ruined keep are certainly inhospitable, but there are nagging aspects to the story she is not quite able to wrap her head around. She turns to Wood.
If we accept that the boy is now one of the Lords, was he always so? I am inclined to think there is more of this mystery to discover back in town whether the answer is yay or nay. If he has always had the capability to change, what does that say about the mother? Wood, could you tell if the mother, also, can change? And if he has been taken and replaced by this shapeshifter, then too more of the mystery can be revealed in the village? Wood, what do you think?
Elias, already halfway turned toward the stair, pauses at Ardana’s question. He turns slowly, his eyes narrowing in curiosity as he listens to her line of thought. There’s a different tone to her voice now—less about tactics and more about unraveling a deeper thread.
He says nothing for the moment, letting her words hang in the cool, damp air as they all turn to Woodrow, whose keen senses and grounded instincts have already proven invaluable.
Ardana’s logic is sharp—if the boy was always one of the Lords, what does that imply about his origins, his mother, and the townspeople who knew him? And if he was replaced, when? How? And why so little concern shown by Thetis, who only offered warnings and vague sympathy?
Elias gently steps closer, folding his arms as he adds in a quiet voice, "She's right, Wood. If the boy was never a boy, then what exactly was the village dealing with this whole time? And if he was taken and replaced… the mother’s story might not be as it seems."
He gestures lightly. "You spoke with her more directly than any of us. What did you sense? Did anything feel... wrong?"
They had come seeking a missing child and stumbled into a network of shapeshifters, fey-bound servants, and fiendish deals. But Ardana’s point cuts deeper: had the mystery already begun before they ever descended into the ruins?
"As I tried pointing out earlier, skilled shapeshifters means everyone we meet could be the same one or two people. It is far more likely the boy has been taken or killed and replaced than that he was always a shape-shifter and nobody noticed. The problem with following this thought is that we can literally trust no one to be open and honest. You would need to assume they are lying in order to maintain the illusion they are creating."
Elias turns toward Koran, his eyes thoughtful, and slowly nods.
"You’re right," he says quietly, the weight of it settling in his tone. "If we accept that these Lords from Below are capable of changing their form with ease, then every encounter becomes a question of performance. Truth becomes camouflage. Deception becomes routine."
He pauses, folding his arms as he looks back down the dark, flooded stair.
"And the most dangerous kind of lie is the one that tells you exactly what you want to hear."
His gaze shifts to Ardana, then Woodrow, then to the others.
"Koran raises a grim but necessary truth—we are not dealing with ordinary enemies. These are creatures who turn familiarity into a weapon, who build trust only to poison it. If the boy was replaced, then yes, perhaps we can still learn something from the village. But if he was always one of them, then the corruption may go deeper than we imagined."
He lets the silence settle a beat before continuing.
"So the real question is this: do we continue deeper into the den of deceivers, knowing full well they will use illusion, manipulation, and fear to turn us against one another… or do we return to the village and begin unraveling what we now suspect may be a much older lie?"
He looks back toward Geados’ watery path, then toward the spiral staircase that would lead them back to the surface.
"Both paths lead into darkness. One takes us into the depths below. The other... back to where this began."
Wood studies the group for a minute, considering their words carefully, let's out a long sigh, I'm not sure what's going on. I believe Tarsakh is being truthful and straight up with me, with us, concerning her son. Her love for him is unquestionable and unshaking in my opinion. Young Mival, well I can't put my finger on it but something's off. Something about this whole story is off. I've known him since he was a youngling and he's always been curious, sometimes too curious for his own good. his thoughts trail off for a minute and his face scrunches up in thought, have any of you, in your travels and adventures, ever come across a shapeshifter? A creature that can assume the likeness of another? I think something like that maybe going on here but for the life of me I can't figure out why. I'd like to keep looking for the boy, I gave my word to his mother. I understand if you'd like to go back to town and investigate some but I feel like every minute he's down here is a minute closer to me loosing him. He looks the party over, from one face to another, his face almost pleading to continue.
Tarysaa listens to the discussion as she kneels down on the spiral staircase and reaches out a finger that hovers above the water's dark surface. She pauses as something Elisa said echos in her thoughts...
"Not just hear, perhaps?" she speaks softly to herself.
{game log} Intelligence Check "disbelieve" vs Illusion - 21
Elias listens to Wood’s words in full, watching as the normally grounded man lays bare his uncertainty, his honesty, and his loyalty—not just to the boy, but to the promise he made to the mother. When Wood’s voice trails off, and that moment of vulnerability creeps in, Elias feels it settle deep within him.
He steps forward, placing a firm, steady hand on Wood’s shoulder, and for a long moment, he doesn’t say anything. He just lets the silence affirm the bond of trust between them.
"Wood, your instincts have led us this far. And while there is deception all around us, there is none in your voice." He glances at the others. "If Mival is still down here—if there’s any chance of saving him—then I say we keep searching."
Elias turns to look once more into the dark spiral below, the shadows of the dungeon waiting in silence.
"Let’s go back to Geados. Let’s take the ferry—together. We’ll pay our fare and face whatever lies beyond. Not because we trust what’s waiting for us, but because we trust each other to face it head-on."
He nods solemnly, then adds with a half-smile,
"And if we find the boy… we make sure it’s truly the boy."
Tarysaa's examination is careful and thorough - she makes good use of the many times she has had to distinguish illusory effects from real ones during the Harpells' imaginative but not perfectly functional magical experiments.
Ultimately, the Harpells' envoy's conclusion is that the water is definitely real - and in fact, roughly speaking, the surface level of the water in this section of the spiral staircase should be about the same height as the surface of the water found in the other section of the dungeon. Presumably, even if this spiral staircase, for now, has no connection with the rest of the dunegon, as it descends it will... and the water has therefore reached the same level here too.
Tarysaa slowly stands and gives a tiny sigh. "Near as I can discern, it is not an illusion but, 'just water'. No telling what may lurk IN those 'just waters' but... "
Her lips are a thin line drawn across her elven features, "This feels like an either - or moment. Either we go in deeper; blindly. Or we regroup back in the village and let Wood, Elias and company do some prodding to see if the entire village is just a cover for whatever lurks below the ruins."
"I admit the village choice would be a bit self serving." She lowers her head to hide her flushed cheeks. "A long rest in the village would allow me to rearrange my spells I might cast to better combat web filled rooms and, perhaps something to better work in watery conditions. I travelled here expecting ruins... not a functioning swamp lair. Nor was aware of a missing child until I entered the tavern. Again, I selected for detecting a missing or hidden child; not for combating dungeon dwellers."