The bandits rush out of the western room, into the eastern one, but for the moment don't proceed farther out. Once everyone is out, the Elven woman - although she limps slightly while trying not to place too much weight on her wounded leg - along with Akvedinn, closes the double doors following Bryn's earlier suggestion. It's not airtight, but it blocks most of the smoke away, at least for now.
Before they managed to fully close the doors, Bryn got a brief look at the fireplace. It seems very simplistic, in the sense that there's nothing other than a place for fire, and perhaps a chimney built into the wall. Nothing that would suggest any kind of air-controlling mechanism. Without getting in there and looking into the chimney, there's no way to tell whether it is blocked or not, though. Nobody stops Bryn if he tries to open the doors to get in and check. The doors are a little heavy, but nothing he can't manage with a little effort.
"Yes, I am fine." Commandant Nattensbarn sits by the wall where she was standing before. She looks anything but calm, and her claim to be fine isn't very convincing, but at least physically, she's unharmed. "The cave nearly buried me alive, and I just saw a statue nearly kill you, but I'm fine."
The Elven woman, after she closed the doors, slides against a nearby wall until she's seated next to it. She looks in Arren's direction, waiting until his eyes meet hers so he knows she's speaking to him. "Thank you. Back there. I thought that was the end of me."
Once everyone seems to have calmed down, Akvedinn drops near one of the walls. "I never should have gone in here. Give me the cold wind outside any time."
"We're not done yet," Nafnlaus responds. "But the smoke will be a problem. Maybe if we get a barrel of water, we can douse the flames?"
"No, let it burn," Commandant Nattesnbarn interjects. "At this point, we might as well get it done with. If it's not too bad, we can probably go in with a cloth over our face, keep our heads low... it should be fine if we're quick." It sounds more like wishful thinking than a real plan, though. "By now, most of the damage is already done, I think. Unless more walls come to life." She stares at the bas-relief on the northern wall briefly, but it seems inanimate enough.
The Human bandit and the Levickan woman, meanwhile, speak to each other in Elven. For the woman, it sounds natural, and her Levickan dialect is much easier to detect now, as most differences are found in the Elven language. The Human responds in Elvish, but it's easy to hear it's not his native language, and as such, he occasionally struggles to find the right word, even filling in at times with words from the Common Human Tongue. Both Bryn and Arren can understand them, and it sounds like the Elven woman asks the Human to heal her, while he refuses, claiming that he can only do so once, and so it's better to save it for an emergency, in case the room beyond the burning roots has more supernatural guardians. They don't seem to mind everyone else hearing them, although they do speak in relatively low voices.
Arrenlooks to the elven woman and nods. "Sorry I wasn't quick enough to spare you all that pain," he says. "The day hasn't come yet that I won't raise my shield for anyone fighting at my side."
He then looks to the Human bandit as well, giving him a brief nod. "I didn't see either of you in the camp before today. Had you been away?" He pauses. "My name is Arren, by the way,"he adds, in case they wish to give theirs.
Never going to stop asking the NPCs for their names :)
The Half-Elf listens to what the others are saying, though he doesn't participate much for the moment. He pays attention as well to what the Elf and the Human say among themselves. It's good to know the man has healing abilities, even if it's only one use. He can't help but wonder, though, why they speak only between themselves, as if Akvedinn and Nafnlaus weren't their comrades.
After a moment, Arren addresses his superiors. "If we're going to let the fire and smoke die out, I could do with a rest. I can't keep going like this. If we run into another fight, I'll end up face-down on the floor."
If they agree, he looks to Walnuts. "Can you keep watch while I rest for a while, sir?" He then rests against the wall, arms folded, head bowed slightly.
Bryn allows the double doors to shut, and doesn't press the idea of the chimney any further. I could do with a little rest myself.
"How much of a blockage was there where you set the fire?", he asks of the bandits, wondering how much fuel there was for this particular fire. "Could you see beyond it or did it completely obscure your view?", he adds as he also takes a seat.
"Did you find anything on the way there, for that matter?".
He also eavesdrops on the bard and the Levickan Elf, although doesn't interject into their conversation.
Sitting there quietly, he appraises the bandits a little, especially the bard. It would be good to learn a little about bardic magic, if he is willing to speak about it. But perhaps better with fewer people around.
He keeps an eye out for any use of Thieves' Cant as he sits as well.
If he can do so without breaking the short rest, or after that is completed, he would want to take a look around the room for anything concealed. Potentially a door, or possibly even writing that wasn't obvious from a distance. Or anything interesting about the skull.
((Well, if you do it too much, you might end up in a town where everyone is named Bob, because Bob is a very common name in that town. But for now I can manage, even I have some creativity in me. Also, I now realise I forgot to use the bard's bardic inspirations during the fight. Oops, I did mean to, originally. Looks like you fared well anyway, though.))
"Oh, well, Nevesta was away for a while," the bard answers, "but I was right here. I was next to you all day! Though I suppose I don't quite look the same, without a pickaxe in hand." He winks playfully. "And after cleaning myself, changing clothes. You'd be surprised how much a change of clothes can throw our perception of another off. Or maybe not. You're dressed in uniforms, after all."
Meanwhile, Nafnlaus answers Bryn's question. "Hmm, almost like a wall. We could see there's space behind, but the spaces between those roots were very small. Maybe one of you Elves could see better?" He looks at Akvedinn, who quietly shakes his head from side to side. "Guess not. Anyway, they were really thick and surprisingly hard, but also very dry. Cutting away with our blades, enough to pass through, would take hours. But fire... well, it seemed a good idea at the time."
To Arren's request to rest, the Commandant answers positively, after briefly looking at the state of everyone in the room. "Yes, alright. Take a moment to recuperate. Wouldn't want to go back and let them empty the place while we're gone."
Searching around, Bryn finds no signs of hidden doors or other types of passageways other than the one through which he entered the room, and the one that leads to a room full of smoke. The smell of the smoke hangs strongly in the air, but aside from that, most of it is contained in the other room, and breathing isn't hard for those in the eastern room. Especially not for anyone sitting down. While searching the room, Bryn realises that there are no murals on the walls. They are barren, aside from the bas-relief on the northern wall and the skull on the eastern, from any decorations.
Finally, the skull. It is large, and closer examination reveals it really is made of bone, which once again raises the question of decay. "It looks reptilian, though my numbered days of reading books hardly make me an expert on monumental skulls," the bard remarks when he sees Bryn studying the skull. Turning around, Bryn sees that he is holding a scimitar - Nevesta's scimitar - between two small black stones. He runs the sword between them, his eyes fixed on them, and slowly speaks a few words Bryn doesn't understand but can identify as spoken in ancient Elven. He then hands the blade back to the Elven woman, holding it by the blade so that she can grab it by the handle, and finally pockets the two black stones. "With the bone that I saw in the corridor with all the roots, and with everything else around," he nods briefly in the direction of the bas-relief, "one could be excused for thinking it belongs to a dragon, no? I know, nonsensical. But I'd never have thought I'd see walls growing living statues either. Not without any powerful sorcerer nearby."
Aside from all the above, the next hour will pass quietly, except for any action initiated by Arren or Bryn. Nevesta and the bard sit next to each other and occasionally talk in low voices. It seems Nevesta was away for a few days, and the two exchange their experiences during that time. Nevesta was scouting, it seems, while the bard was impersonating a worker to keep a hidden eye on the workers. He makes sure to point out that he also worked diligently during that time.
Nafnlaus sits in one corner by himself and stares into the oil lantern he has next to him, caught in his thoughts. Akvedinn sits at first, but soon starts to pace impatiently, until Nafnlaus breaks his silence to ask him, not too politely, to stop making noise. The Elf then leaves the room and sits on the platform above the pool, throwing small rocks into the water, making a semi-periodic sound which seems to annoy Nafnlaus even more, though the latter keeps it to himself for now.
Although she managed to catch more sleep than usual in recent days, the Commandant still has so many hours to catch up that it takes only a couple of minutes before she falls into a shallow nap. Lieutenant Tireur then covers her with his coat and stretches briefly before sitting down quietly a few feet away from her, keeping a watchful eye over everyone around.
Bryn thinks back trying to remember seeing the bard before. Surely most bards want to be noticed, but then most bards perhaps deal more with exhibition than this one. He is comfortable about fighters, perhaps an ex-soldier himself.
"Well, let's hope the fire did the job of clearing the roots, and that there is nothing that could be ruined by fire or smoke on the other side", is all he says in response to Nafnlaus.
"I would be interested in hearing about your days of study", he responds to the Bard, watching as he uses the lodestones to mend the sword and noting where he pockets them. As a High Elf, he is pretty sure he can replicate the magic used, but it wouldn't be achieved in the exact same fashion. He would also need to trance on it as well. Do I need to though, if the Bard is here and capable? Will they or the other bandits covet the bow if they see it though? But then, to steal the lodestones could set off a worse reaction if noticed.
"That is a good skill, mending the sword in that fashion", he says and leaves it at that for the moment. "As for the bone, I know what you mean. All the draconic iconography as well as the bones. And with no signs of decay. There are two mysteries there. What creature are they from, and what has protected them all these years".
He looks further, trying to remember anything he might have read that would pertain to the skull. Perhaps my days of study were more numerous, and helpful.
If he realises anything useful, he will share the knowledge with the bard, albeit in the open so others can hear.
"Next to me all day? You must have been awfully quiet, then, or I would have remembered," Arren remarks, thinking about the man's weird jokes and puns during the fight. He does, though, glance down at his own uniform when the bandit mentions changing clothes. It feels like ages since he last did so, and he sighs at the thought.
Though he doesn't really intend to, the Sergeant ends up dozing off for part of the hour, and when he wakes he feels considerably better. Even more so after he tends to his wounds — from this fight and the previous one with the plant-men — cleans himself briefly in the pond, and stretches his muscles.
He catches some of the bickering between Nafnlaus and Akvedinn, which draws a faint smile from him, and also overhears Nevesta and the Human speaking among themselves. It becomes clear now that when the latter spoke of being next to them, he meant it quite literally. Another impersonator? No wonder he and "not-Tace" seem to get along. It does make me wonder whether this Human bandit's face is his real one.
After a while, once the others seem to have recovered as well, Arren takes one of the pieces of cloth from Mydri's tent and wets it in the pond. He then heads into the western room, pulling the cloth over his mouth to assess the room's state. Has the smoke dissipated, or does it look like everyone will need to wear wet cloths, as the Commandant suggested?
"Oh, nothing remarkable. I wasn't a particularly bright student," the bard answers. "I did not know what interests me at the time, but I had a certain aptitude that got me accepted into the Levickan academy, even as an immigrant. Learned all sorts of random bits from all fields, trying to figure out what I like best. Some general knowledge about various fields, a few neat tricks like repairing broken swords and the like, but eventually I dropped out, figuring out I like poetry, and certain people, more than books and wands and, ah, all of the rest they do there."
Bryn really didn't study much about lizards' anatomy. It didn't seem very related to his field of interest. It otherwise seems reasonable that this would be some kind of reptilian skull, ignoring the size factor. What Bryn can make out, though, is that the skull is in fine shape. That is, however this - beast? - died, it wasn't with an axe to the head.
"Well, wouldn't want to draw attention to me, would I?" The man answers Arren's remark. "I can be silent at times, too. Unlike Nohem, I can appreciate silence."
Even just approaching the doors, Arren feels the smoke's smell and its thickness intensifying with every step. If he opens the doors, a cloud of it pours into the eastern room, which would make anyone too close cough a bit and relocate away from the doors. Arren finds that the wet cloth is far from perfect, but better than nothing. He could breathe through it for a short while, though it's better not to test its limits. Otherwise, he finds that the smoke got trapped in the room, and it is thick and hard to see through. Seems like the fire, by now, has gone out, though, and if Arren approaches where it was previously burning, he'll find the passage is clear of roots, though the floor is full of ash.
"The smoke hasn't gone anywhere," Arren says when he returns to the room with the rest. "It's still trapped in there, and it is hard to see through. The wet cloth helps, but breathing isn't exactly comfortable."
He shifts his weight, clearly not eager to go back in, but resolute.
"The fire seems to have gone out, though. The roots are gone. There is just a lot of ash on the floor."
He pauses briefly before adding,
"I think we can keep going. We'll just need to tear some cloth from our coats and wet it in the pond first. Should we move on?"
"Impressive, I feel you are downplaying that aptitude slightly though", Bryn replies to the bard. "It is hard enough to get in even if you aren't an immigrant, and I bet they tried to make it even harder to leave, especially because you are an immigrant", he adds thoughtfully.
He must be mid-thirties, so he would have been there long before my time.
"I imagine you joined these bandits for the people, rather than the poetry. Although perhaps not, I haven't had the chance to enjoy an evening by the communal fire, or a hot meal, since I have been here. Perhaps there are more poets here than I thought. I am currently using the name Otis, by the way. What should I call you?".
He waits as the bard replies to the Sergeant, smiling in response to his comment about Nohem.
"I wonder if you would consent to using the neat trick of fixing things for something of mine?", he asks.
When the Sergeant returns, he frowns, not liking the idea of entering a hostile place whilst the environment is also hostile.
"We can try, but without much visibility we could easily stumble into a trap or an ambush. Perhaps checking that chimney would be worthwhile first? Even a little bit of air flow could make a big difference given a little time", he asks noting the smoke pouring out the doorway as the Sergeant comes back through.
Unless the others decide not to wait for him to check the chimney, he will follow the Sergeant's method of wetting a rag to cover his nose and mouth. The soldiers present will likely recognise that he uses a strip from his old prison shirt that he had kept in his pack. He will then head into the room, keeping low, to check the fireplace for any current air flow or a mechanism to enable it. If it seems blocked, he will consider trying to send a dagger up using his mage hand. He would stand back a bit in case something does get dislodged. He won't linger long though, not wanting to risk suffocating or being poisoned by the smoke.
Arren nods at the black-haired Elf's suggestion. He doesn't follow him fully into the room, but stays close to the doorway, keeping a careful eye on him — and on the time — ready to pull him back if the smoke becomes too much.
Bryn's speculations are only met with the bard's shrug. "The heart wants what the heart wants."
When Bryn introduces "himself", though, the bard just nods along slowly. "Currently using the name Otis. I see. Well, then I'll be using the name..." he looks around briefly, fixing his eyes on the skull after a moment. "Skull. Wallattached Skull, pleased to mee- Ouch! Okay, okay! Sorry!" Nevesta pinched his arm, it seems, with a displeased look on her face. "Radis. Radis is my name." He rubs his arm with the other hand. "Could've just pinched that statue to death instead of playing around with blades."
"Hmm? Fixing something? Sure, if I can. As long as the damage isn't too large or severe, I can probably mend it."
Bryn finds that visibility is limited, but it's far from walking blindly. For some reason, he thinks the best term to describe this place would be Lightly Obscured. As long as Bryn keeps his head down, he finds that it's easier to breathe. Not as much as clear air, but there is a great difference between crawling, crouching, and standing. When he gets to the fireplace, he still doesn't see anything that could control airflow. Getting under the chimney and looking up, Bryn sees that it is blocked by roots of all things. They're probably not airtight, but airflow is still very limited at best. He also can't see if there's anything above them, and he doesn't exactly recall seeing anything built on top of the mountain. Sending a dagger up achieves nothing, as the spectral hand is far too weak to cut the roots that block the airway.
((I now realise I should have described the following before, along with the map, when Arren was inside, but I wasn't completely focused at the time. Sorry.))
Bryn, like Arren before him, can also see into the next room. It is a mostly rectangular room. Without getting in, however, neither could see any details.
While you haven't entered the last rooms yet, I think I can reveal the entire map at this point. The final door in the northwest of the map, as well as the entire room where you can see a bed, can be ignored and isn't there in our game. Instead, there are just normal walls. As always, ignore furniture. The last hidden area is just the map's name, which is irrelevant for our game. No hidden rooms or anything there.
Bryn chuckles at the antics of who he now knows is Radis. Radis, definitely not Wallattached Skull.
"Thanks, let's get all this sorted and I'll show you what I have, and maybe explain the name situation", he says to the bard.
It doesn't take him long in the smokey room to determine that trying to get some air flowing through the chimney is non-starter. Once he spots the roots, he knows better than to waste his time.
Heading back out, he reports back to others, "The roots have got into the chimney as well. No go there. But keeping low should suffice to keep us safe. From the smoke at least".
He looks to the Sergeant, I am ready when you are.
The heart wants what the heart wants,Arrenrepeats to himself, his gaze shifting to the Human bandit. Could it really be that he joined this group out of love? For Nevesta? He would never have imagined such a reason, and the thought makes him realize that, bandits or not, these people are just… people. Like him. Like his superiors.
That thought doesn't last long, though. When the man jokes about the wall-attached skull, Arren rolls his eyes and shoots him a look that probably mirrors Nevesta's own.
"That's a pity," he says when their associate reports that there's no way to use the chimney to clear the air.
Arren stretches his arms one last time. "I'm ready as well." He then looks to the others in the room and adds, "Shall we?"
If they seem ready, he proceeds into the room, keeping his head low to avoid the worst of the smoke. He hopes Nafnlaus's and Flêche's lanterns will be enough to give them proper visibility.
While the door remains open, some smoke pours into the western room, which is makes things slightly worse for those in the eastern room, but slightly easier for anyone going inside. This gives everyone enough incentive to follow and search the last room. As large as it is, all eight can search inside without feeling too cramped. As times goes by, the smoke slowly disperses between all three rooms, and eventually beyond it, so it gets easier to breathe little by little. Everyone still uses some wet cloth to breathe through, though, and some - the Commandant in particular - make sure keep their heads low.
The room has no painted murals in it, and beyond the burned wall, there are no roots, thorns or vines of any kind. No vegetation at all. The south-eastern corner had collapsed, and a large pile of rubble covers the area. On the north wall, directly in front of the only entrance to the room, is a bas-relief depicting a sleeping dragon. It doesn't seem to be moving in any way. At the northeastern, northwestern and southwestern corners of the room stand three stone chests (one for each corner). Smaller than the sarcophagus - too small to house a body - and decorated with ingravings of dragons. All are closed.
"Three chests and eight of us. That doesn't divide well." Radis declares when he enters the room, after looking around for a few moments.
Once Bryn sees that there is nothing beyond this room, he decides that it is time to widen his view of the surroundings by perceiving the flow of magic.
He is quite open about using his ability, and is careful to ensure it doesn't look like an aggressive act to the others present.
As he takes a second look around, focussing first on the bas-relief and then the chests, he hears Radis's comment.
"You see, that education was not wasted", he replies with a good natured chuckle. "I would suggest checking those chests for traps before getting too excited and opening them", he adds in a more serious tone.
"Maybe whatever is inside the chests can be divided," Arren says. "In any case, I agree — I don't trust anything in this room one bit."
Even if he isn't the best suited for investigating, he moves closer to the chests and inspects them carefully without touching them, looking for anything on their surface that might suggest some kind of trap. He does the same with the dragon bas-relief.
Arren leaves the actual opening of the chests to others, instead keeping a close watch on the bas-relief. Just in case...
((I'm pushing a little, because I imagine if I keep my usual approach, taking stuff out of boxes could take us several days.))
The room itself, walls and decorations included, is non-magical. The smoke, the remains of the roots, and the ash beneath them, are all non-magical as well. None of those present in the room carries anything magical either, as far as Bryn can tell. The traces of magic that surely clung to Nevesta's sword for a while have all dissipated by now.
Through the chests, none of which is over a foot thick, Bryn detects the presence of several magical objects.
Nothing about the room or the chests screams "trap" when Arren looks at it. He has no way to tell regarding what's inside, though, or whether some unnatural phenomenon will occur when opened, but at least he sees no pressure plates/wires/anything else he could think of. While Arren studies one chest, the bandits check out another, and after determining, to their abilities, that there are no signs of traps, they try to open it. The lids are heavy, several centimetres of stone thick, and require at least two people to slide away. Akvedinn and Radis work together to slide off one of the lids, and nothing unexpected happens when they do.
Encouraged by the success with one chest, the group will open the other two as well. Neither of them triggers any trap, as far as anyone can tell. Since I imagine neither side trusts the other, the lids are always opened by one of the bandits paired with one of the crew or Bryn. The Lieutenant stands by the door, at the southwestern corner, keeping a watchful eye over everyone. Mimicking him, Nevesta stands on the other side of the door. With this many watchful eyes, it is clear to all that any attempt to pocket anything is futile. Radis suggests that they search the pile of rubble, too, for it is the only corner where there is no chest, but after rummaging through it for a bit, the Lieutenant reports he found nothing but rocks. He does pick up one that looks strangely round, but Bryn can see it is non-magical. Still, a beautiful rock - according to the Lieutenant at least - so he places it along with everything else.
The items are taken out of the chests, one by one, and as people start coughing, a decision is made to take everything to the room where everyone rested before. While it is also, by now, somewhat full of smoke, it is far easier to breathe there, and it's also a more spacious room where the items can be laid out, and everyone can gather around them, so that all can see everything:
One torch, which strangely, still burns with a small, blue flame, that does not seem to produce any heat, and as such, does not set nearby objects on fire. The handle is shaped like a dragon, such that the fire seems like it is spewed from the dragon's mouth. Bryn identifies the magic as Evocation magic.
A delicate-looking silver tiara, decorated with beastial iconography. The animals seem to bow before a modestly-sized amethyst gem at the centre. Bryn mainly identifies Conjuration magic in the tiara, but also a faint aura of Enchantment magic.
One rigid plate, with a metallic sheen that is reminiscent of bronze, but made of some unidentifiable semi-organic matter. Radis points out it looks like a reptile's scale, but the sheer size of it makes the thought seem almost rediculous. If this is just one scale, what would be the size of such animal? Bryn identifies an aura of Abjuration magic around the object.
A single, left-handed leather glove. Akvedinn insisted that gloves come in pairs, but none managed to find the other. It seems like whoever made it made a mistake, and sewed half of it the wrong way. As a result, while the backhand's side has the leather's soft side turned inside and the more rigid side turned outside - like all leather gloves should be - the palm's side has the soft part turned outside, and the rigid side on the inner part. Bryn feels an aura of Necromancy from the glove.
A plain-looking lead ring. Anyone holding it feels a rather unpleasant finish, sandy and grainy, rather than smooth. Probably needs a good sanding. Nafnlaus, who picked it up, claims it smells like apple pie. Radis tried, and instead claimed it reminded him of horses. Each person seems to smell something completely different from it, but all agree it has some distinct scent. Bryn at first thought it was mundane, but a more detailed inspection revealed it has an aura of Illusion magic that's hard to notice.
A pair of brown trousers. Looks dirty, but doesn't look like it can be cleaned, rather, it was made to look dirty. Has pockets, but it turns out on of them has a sizable hole in it. Produces a faint scent of... acorns? Quite notably, it changed size as it switched hands, seemingly to match the size of the holder. Probably, none tried actually wearing them, yet. Bryn detects an aura of Transmutation magic.
A book in a hard cover, written in an unidentified language. Also contains drawings of various subjects. Despite looking quite old, its pages somehow remain mostly intact. Nonmagical. The Commandant asked that none touch it, at least until they decide what to do with it, lest the delicate paper will cruble or tear.
The Lieutenant's rock. Nonmagical. Strangely round, almost (but not quite) a perfect sphere. Otherwise seems to be a normal rock characteristic of the surrounding. None seem particularly interested in it, but the Lieutenant placed it along with everything else because, in his words, "I took it out of that room, so it's only fair it should be placed among all of those. Besides, we don't really know if the glove is worth any more. I mean, it seems somewhat uncomfortable."
((I'm leaving up to Bryn to decide whether he shares any of what he saw regarding magic.))
Once everyone stands around the collection of objects, after a few seconds of silence, Akvedinn is the first to break it. "Well, eight... things..." he looks at the Lieutenant's round rock with certain scepticism, "and eight of us. One for each?"
Arrenis somewhat surprised that nothing happened when the chests were opened, but he assumes the plant-men, plant-fish, and the stone warrior were meant to be the true guardians of these treasures.
Of all the items, his attention is drawn most strongly to the bronze-colored, reptilian-looking plate. He steps closer to examine it, trying to determine exactly what it is—and whether it might be of any use to him. Is it part of a full suit of armor?
He can't help but take a sniff at the lead ring, as some of the others have done. "Cinnamon," he says, then shrugs, leaving the ring where it is. He's curious to see what the others will choose, and imagines the Commandant will want to keep hold of the book.
Finally, he takes a closer look at the stone. If there's no writing or carving on it, he can't imagine how they'll figure out what it's for. Perhaps it does nothing in particular—though he has to admit its shape is peculiar. "Well," he says, "maybe some studious person in the capital could tell us more about it. And the book."
Once he confirms the bas-relief and the chests are not magical in themselves, Bryn focusses on keeping a wary eye on everything as the others open the chests and remove the items. He stays quiet until they get all the items into the less smokey room.
Once there he will be quite honest about what he sees in the items.
"Six of the items show signs of magic. The only ones that don't are the round stone and the book", he says first of all.
When the Sergeant shows an interest in the bronze-like plate, he will tell him, "That has the aura of abjuration, which means it's purpose is defensive".
As people take an interest in each item he will explain in a similar manner what he can tell of it.
He will also speak to the Commandant about the book, "I can help you care for and translate the book, if that is what you are most interested in. Obviously that assumes we will still travel together". It is a matter of fact statement, not a plea.
For his part, he is most drawn to the trousers, which remind him of his humble origins growing up. Many a time his mother would repair holes in his trousers as a child. In fact, as he holds them, the others might notice a pensive look cross his face.
The Commandant looks at Bryn in a look that mixes surprise and distrust, but also curiosity. "You can read that? What language is it?" Even without opening the book, Bryn can see what must be a title on the cover, but he doesn't recognise the writing. If Bryn admits that he can do so using magic, she'll respond: "It seems your magic is different from what I imagined. Nothing to help against the statue, but detecting magic and reading dead languages?" She'll then pause, before resuming in a more hesitant manner: "I'd like to hear a bit more in detail. Once we're done here." She'll then drop the matter until the issue at hand is resolved.
Arren examines the plate, but finds nothing that could help him determine its use, if it had any at all. There are no signs it was ever attached to something - no holes or pins or anything that could be used to connect, and no signs of glue either, though that could have deteriorated over time. The shape of it also seems rather natural, if it truly is a scale, and not worked to fit into a larger construction. It's a bit large, too. Could be a chest piece of some heavy armour, but it would be too wide for Arren. Maybe fitting for Dwarves, who tend to be wider. It might function as a shield, with its size, if there were any way to hold it.
"So, how do we decide who gets what?" Radis raises the question to the room, looking at everyone but at nobody in particular. "Should we draw lots, perhaps?"
"I'm taking the book." Commandant Nattensbarn meets each person's eyes briefly to see if anyone objects. The bandits seem less interested in nonmagical objects, so none object. If both Bryn and Arren stay silent, she picks it up with both hands and steps away.
"Alright, one down. I don't have a preference myself, except..." Radis trails off and slowly shifts his eyes to the round rock. "I'm not interested in rocks. Round as it may be, if truly non-magical, we've got enough of those here." Nafnlaus and Akvedinn nod along.
There's a brief, tense moment, during which it seems things might not proceed as smoothly if none claims the stone, since otherwise the other six items need to be divided between all seven remaining people. But then, the Lieutenant picks the stone up. "I'll take it then." He steps back to stand by the Commandant, who at first seems displeased with the Lieutenant's choice, but the Drow explains, in a low voice but in the absence of other talkers, one that all can hear: "I won't be allowed to carry anything else back to Mey, and while I certainly prefer these objects at the hands of the military over those of bandits, I prefer to avoid confrontations, with two magicians in the room."
"Six left, and there are six of us," Radis says. "Any other preferences?"
"Yes, if you don't mind, I want to test the torch first." Nafnlaus wait briefly to see if there are any objections. If there are none, he'll extinguish his lantern first. Although the room is still partially lit from the Commandant's lantern, it becomes clearer just how much light the torch produces. He picks up the torch, which burns as always. "I'm always carrying a lantern anyway, might as well be this. Hmm, wouldn't want it to blow off the moment I step into the wind outside, though." He blows over the top of the torch gently to see if the movement of the air affects the flame. Immediately, instead of blowing out the flame, the air that comes out of Nafnlaus' mouth catches on fire, spreading away from the torch, towards Akvedinn, who stood by him.
Akvedinn, although caught in surprise, immediately steps away, releasing a few swears in the process, before checking whether his hair or clothes are on fire. Fortunately, since Nafnlaus only blew on the torch gently, no harm was done, it seems. "Aleshi take you and that thing down where you belong! Are you trying to burn my face off? At least look away before messing with flames you found in ruins guarded by statues! I see why someone would want these kept away."
The bandits rush out of the western room, into the eastern one, but for the moment don't proceed farther out. Once everyone is out, the Elven woman - although she limps slightly while trying not to place too much weight on her wounded leg - along with Akvedinn, closes the double doors following Bryn's earlier suggestion. It's not airtight, but it blocks most of the smoke away, at least for now.
Before they managed to fully close the doors, Bryn got a brief look at the fireplace. It seems very simplistic, in the sense that there's nothing other than a place for fire, and perhaps a chimney built into the wall. Nothing that would suggest any kind of air-controlling mechanism. Without getting in there and looking into the chimney, there's no way to tell whether it is blocked or not, though. Nobody stops Bryn if he tries to open the doors to get in and check. The doors are a little heavy, but nothing he can't manage with a little effort.
"Yes, I am fine." Commandant Nattensbarn sits by the wall where she was standing before. She looks anything but calm, and her claim to be fine isn't very convincing, but at least physically, she's unharmed. "The cave nearly buried me alive, and I just saw a statue nearly kill you, but I'm fine."
The Elven woman, after she closed the doors, slides against a nearby wall until she's seated next to it. She looks in Arren's direction, waiting until his eyes meet hers so he knows she's speaking to him. "Thank you. Back there. I thought that was the end of me."
Once everyone seems to have calmed down, Akvedinn drops near one of the walls. "I never should have gone in here. Give me the cold wind outside any time."
"We're not done yet," Nafnlaus responds. "But the smoke will be a problem. Maybe if we get a barrel of water, we can douse the flames?"
"No, let it burn," Commandant Nattesnbarn interjects. "At this point, we might as well get it done with. If it's not too bad, we can probably go in with a cloth over our face, keep our heads low... it should be fine if we're quick." It sounds more like wishful thinking than a real plan, though. "By now, most of the damage is already done, I think. Unless more walls come to life." She stares at the bas-relief on the northern wall briefly, but it seems inanimate enough.
The Human bandit and the Levickan woman, meanwhile, speak to each other in Elven. For the woman, it sounds natural, and her Levickan dialect is much easier to detect now, as most differences are found in the Elven language. The Human responds in Elvish, but it's easy to hear it's not his native language, and as such, he occasionally struggles to find the right word, even filling in at times with words from the Common Human Tongue. Both Bryn and Arren can understand them, and it sounds like the Elven woman asks the Human to heal her, while he refuses, claiming that he can only do so once, and so it's better to save it for an emergency, in case the room beyond the burning roots has more supernatural guardians. They don't seem to mind everyone else hearing them, although they do speak in relatively low voices.
Varielky | Werhann
Arren looks to the elven woman and nods. "Sorry I wasn't quick enough to spare you all that pain," he says. "The day hasn't come yet that I won't raise my shield for anyone fighting at my side."
He then looks to the Human bandit as well, giving him a brief nod. "I didn't see either of you in the camp before today. Had you been away?" He pauses. "My name is Arren, by the way," he adds, in case they wish to give theirs.
Never going to stop asking the NPCs for their names :)
The Half-Elf listens to what the others are saying, though he doesn't participate much for the moment. He pays attention as well to what the Elf and the Human say among themselves. It's good to know the man has healing abilities, even if it's only one use. He can't help but wonder, though, why they speak only between themselves, as if Akvedinn and Nafnlaus weren't their comrades.
After a moment, Arren addresses his superiors. "If we're going to let the fire and smoke die out, I could do with a rest. I can't keep going like this. If we run into another fight, I'll end up face-down on the floor."
If they agree, he looks to Walnuts. "Can you keep watch while I rest for a while, sir?" He then rests against the wall, arms folded, head bowed slightly.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Bryn allows the double doors to shut, and doesn't press the idea of the chimney any further. I could do with a little rest myself.
"How much of a blockage was there where you set the fire?", he asks of the bandits, wondering how much fuel there was for this particular fire. "Could you see beyond it or did it completely obscure your view?", he adds as he also takes a seat.
"Did you find anything on the way there, for that matter?".
He also eavesdrops on the bard and the Levickan Elf, although doesn't interject into their conversation.
Sitting there quietly, he appraises the bandits a little, especially the bard. It would be good to learn a little about bardic magic, if he is willing to speak about it. But perhaps better with fewer people around.
He keeps an eye out for any use of Thieves' Cant as he sits as well.
If he can do so without breaking the short rest, or after that is completed, he would want to take a look around the room for anything concealed. Potentially a door, or possibly even writing that wasn't obvious from a distance. Or anything interesting about the skull.
Investigation: 5+5=10
((Well, if you do it too much, you might end up in a town where everyone is named Bob, because Bob is a very common name in that town. But for now I can manage, even I have some creativity in me. Also, I now realise I forgot to use the bard's bardic inspirations during the fight. Oops, I did mean to, originally. Looks like you fared well anyway, though.))
"Oh, well, Nevesta was away for a while," the bard answers, "but I was right here. I was next to you all day! Though I suppose I don't quite look the same, without a pickaxe in hand." He winks playfully. "And after cleaning myself, changing clothes. You'd be surprised how much a change of clothes can throw our perception of another off. Or maybe not. You're dressed in uniforms, after all."
Meanwhile, Nafnlaus answers Bryn's question. "Hmm, almost like a wall. We could see there's space behind, but the spaces between those roots were very small. Maybe one of you Elves could see better?" He looks at Akvedinn, who quietly shakes his head from side to side. "Guess not. Anyway, they were really thick and surprisingly hard, but also very dry. Cutting away with our blades, enough to pass through, would take hours. But fire... well, it seemed a good idea at the time."
To Arren's request to rest, the Commandant answers positively, after briefly looking at the state of everyone in the room. "Yes, alright. Take a moment to recuperate. Wouldn't want to go back and let them empty the place while we're gone."
Searching around, Bryn finds no signs of hidden doors or other types of passageways other than the one through which he entered the room, and the one that leads to a room full of smoke. The smell of the smoke hangs strongly in the air, but aside from that, most of it is contained in the other room, and breathing isn't hard for those in the eastern room. Especially not for anyone sitting down. While searching the room, Bryn realises that there are no murals on the walls. They are barren, aside from the bas-relief on the northern wall and the skull on the eastern, from any decorations.
Finally, the skull. It is large, and closer examination reveals it really is made of bone, which once again raises the question of decay. "It looks reptilian, though my numbered days of reading books hardly make me an expert on monumental skulls," the bard remarks when he sees Bryn studying the skull. Turning around, Bryn sees that he is holding a scimitar - Nevesta's scimitar - between two small black stones. He runs the sword between them, his eyes fixed on them, and slowly speaks a few words Bryn doesn't understand but can identify as spoken in ancient Elven. He then hands the blade back to the Elven woman, holding it by the blade so that she can grab it by the handle, and finally pockets the two black stones. "With the bone that I saw in the corridor with all the roots, and with everything else around," he nods briefly in the direction of the bas-relief, "one could be excused for thinking it belongs to a dragon, no? I know, nonsensical. But I'd never have thought I'd see walls growing living statues either. Not without any powerful sorcerer nearby."
Aside from all the above, the next hour will pass quietly, except for any action initiated by Arren or Bryn. Nevesta and the bard sit next to each other and occasionally talk in low voices. It seems Nevesta was away for a few days, and the two exchange their experiences during that time. Nevesta was scouting, it seems, while the bard was impersonating a worker to keep a hidden eye on the workers. He makes sure to point out that he also worked diligently during that time.
Nafnlaus sits in one corner by himself and stares into the oil lantern he has next to him, caught in his thoughts. Akvedinn sits at first, but soon starts to pace impatiently, until Nafnlaus breaks his silence to ask him, not too politely, to stop making noise. The Elf then leaves the room and sits on the platform above the pool, throwing small rocks into the water, making a semi-periodic sound which seems to annoy Nafnlaus even more, though the latter keeps it to himself for now.
Although she managed to catch more sleep than usual in recent days, the Commandant still has so many hours to catch up that it takes only a couple of minutes before she falls into a shallow nap. Lieutenant Tireur then covers her with his coat and stretches briefly before sitting down quietly a few feet away from her, keeping a watchful eye over everyone around.
Varielky | Werhann
Bryn thinks back trying to remember seeing the bard before. Surely most bards want to be noticed, but then most bards perhaps deal more with exhibition than this one. He is comfortable about fighters, perhaps an ex-soldier himself.
"Well, let's hope the fire did the job of clearing the roots, and that there is nothing that could be ruined by fire or smoke on the other side", is all he says in response to Nafnlaus.
"I would be interested in hearing about your days of study", he responds to the Bard, watching as he uses the lodestones to mend the sword and noting where he pockets them. As a High Elf, he is pretty sure he can replicate the magic used, but it wouldn't be achieved in the exact same fashion. He would also need to trance on it as well. Do I need to though, if the Bard is here and capable? Will they or the other bandits covet the bow if they see it though? But then, to steal the lodestones could set off a worse reaction if noticed.
"That is a good skill, mending the sword in that fashion", he says and leaves it at that for the moment. "As for the bone, I know what you mean. All the draconic iconography as well as the bones. And with no signs of decay. There are two mysteries there. What creature are they from, and what has protected them all these years".
He looks further, trying to remember anything he might have read that would pertain to the skull. Perhaps my days of study were more numerous, and helpful.
If he realises anything useful, he will share the knowledge with the bard, albeit in the open so others can hear.
Nature: 12+3=15
"Next to me all day? You must have been awfully quiet, then, or I would have remembered," Arren remarks, thinking about the man's weird jokes and puns during the fight. He does, though, glance down at his own uniform when the bandit mentions changing clothes. It feels like ages since he last did so, and he sighs at the thought.
Though he doesn't really intend to, the Sergeant ends up dozing off for part of the hour, and when he wakes he feels considerably better. Even more so after he tends to his wounds — from this fight and the previous one with the plant-men — cleans himself briefly in the pond, and stretches his muscles.
He catches some of the bickering between Nafnlaus and Akvedinn, which draws a faint smile from him, and also overhears Nevesta and the Human speaking among themselves. It becomes clear now that when the latter spoke of being next to them, he meant it quite literally. Another impersonator? No wonder he and "not-Tace" seem to get along. It does make me wonder whether this Human bandit's face is his real one.
After a while, once the others seem to have recovered as well, Arren takes one of the pieces of cloth from Mydri's tent and wets it in the pond. He then heads into the western room, pulling the cloth over his mouth to assess the room's state. Has the smoke dissipated, or does it look like everyone will need to wear wet cloths, as the Commandant suggested?
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
"Oh, nothing remarkable. I wasn't a particularly bright student," the bard answers. "I did not know what interests me at the time, but I had a certain aptitude that got me accepted into the Levickan academy, even as an immigrant. Learned all sorts of random bits from all fields, trying to figure out what I like best. Some general knowledge about various fields, a few neat tricks like repairing broken swords and the like, but eventually I dropped out, figuring out I like poetry, and certain people, more than books and wands and, ah, all of the rest they do there."
Bryn really didn't study much about lizards' anatomy. It didn't seem very related to his field of interest. It otherwise seems reasonable that this would be some kind of reptilian skull, ignoring the size factor. What Bryn can make out, though, is that the skull is in fine shape. That is, however this - beast? - died, it wasn't with an axe to the head.
"Well, wouldn't want to draw attention to me, would I?" The man answers Arren's remark. "I can be silent at times, too. Unlike Nohem, I can appreciate silence."
Even just approaching the doors, Arren feels the smoke's smell and its thickness intensifying with every step. If he opens the doors, a cloud of it pours into the eastern room, which would make anyone too close cough a bit and relocate away from the doors. Arren finds that the wet cloth is far from perfect, but better than nothing. He could breathe through it for a short while, though it's better not to test its limits. Otherwise, he finds that the smoke got trapped in the room, and it is thick and hard to see through. Seems like the fire, by now, has gone out, though, and if Arren approaches where it was previously burning, he'll find the passage is clear of roots, though the floor is full of ash.
Varielky | Werhann
"The smoke hasn't gone anywhere," Arren says when he returns to the room with the rest. "It's still trapped in there, and it is hard to see through. The wet cloth helps, but breathing isn't exactly comfortable."
He shifts his weight, clearly not eager to go back in, but resolute.
"The fire seems to have gone out, though. The roots are gone. There is just a lot of ash on the floor."
He pauses briefly before adding,
"I think we can keep going. We'll just need to tear some cloth from our coats and wet it in the pond first. Should we move on?"
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
"Impressive, I feel you are downplaying that aptitude slightly though", Bryn replies to the bard. "It is hard enough to get in even if you aren't an immigrant, and I bet they tried to make it even harder to leave, especially because you are an immigrant", he adds thoughtfully.
He must be mid-thirties, so he would have been there long before my time.
"I imagine you joined these bandits for the people, rather than the poetry. Although perhaps not, I haven't had the chance to enjoy an evening by the communal fire, or a hot meal, since I have been here. Perhaps there are more poets here than I thought. I am currently using the name Otis, by the way. What should I call you?".
He waits as the bard replies to the Sergeant, smiling in response to his comment about Nohem.
"I wonder if you would consent to using the neat trick of fixing things for something of mine?", he asks.
When the Sergeant returns, he frowns, not liking the idea of entering a hostile place whilst the environment is also hostile.
"We can try, but without much visibility we could easily stumble into a trap or an ambush. Perhaps checking that chimney would be worthwhile first? Even a little bit of air flow could make a big difference given a little time", he asks noting the smoke pouring out the doorway as the Sergeant comes back through.
Unless the others decide not to wait for him to check the chimney, he will follow the Sergeant's method of wetting a rag to cover his nose and mouth. The soldiers present will likely recognise that he uses a strip from his old prison shirt that he had kept in his pack. He will then head into the room, keeping low, to check the fireplace for any current air flow or a mechanism to enable it. If it seems blocked, he will consider trying to send a dagger up using his mage hand. He would stand back a bit in case something does get dislodged. He won't linger long though, not wanting to risk suffocating or being poisoned by the smoke.
Arren nods at the black-haired Elf's suggestion. He doesn't follow him fully into the room, but stays close to the doorway, keeping a careful eye on him — and on the time — ready to pull him back if the smoke becomes too much.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Bryn's speculations are only met with the bard's shrug. "The heart wants what the heart wants."
When Bryn introduces "himself", though, the bard just nods along slowly. "Currently using the name Otis. I see. Well, then I'll be using the name..." he looks around briefly, fixing his eyes on the skull after a moment. "Skull. Wallattached Skull, pleased to mee- Ouch! Okay, okay! Sorry!" Nevesta pinched his arm, it seems, with a displeased look on her face. "Radis. Radis is my name." He rubs his arm with the other hand. "Could've just pinched that statue to death instead of playing around with blades."
"Hmm? Fixing something? Sure, if I can. As long as the damage isn't too large or severe, I can probably mend it."
Bryn finds that visibility is limited, but it's far from walking blindly. For some reason, he thinks the best term to describe this place would be Lightly Obscured. As long as Bryn keeps his head down, he finds that it's easier to breathe. Not as much as clear air, but there is a great difference between crawling, crouching, and standing. When he gets to the fireplace, he still doesn't see anything that could control airflow. Getting under the chimney and looking up, Bryn sees that it is blocked by roots of all things. They're probably not airtight, but airflow is still very limited at best. He also can't see if there's anything above them, and he doesn't exactly recall seeing anything built on top of the mountain. Sending a dagger up achieves nothing, as the spectral hand is far too weak to cut the roots that block the airway.
((I now realise I should have described the following before, along with the map, when Arren was inside, but I wasn't completely focused at the time. Sorry.))
Bryn, like Arren before him, can also see into the next room. It is a mostly rectangular room. Without getting in, however, neither could see any details.
While you haven't entered the last rooms yet, I think I can reveal the entire map at this point. The final door in the northwest of the map, as well as the entire room where you can see a bed, can be ignored and isn't there in our game. Instead, there are just normal walls. As always, ignore furniture. The last hidden area is just the map's name, which is irrelevant for our game. No hidden rooms or anything there.
Varielky | Werhann
Bryn chuckles at the antics of who he now knows is Radis. Radis, definitely not Wallattached Skull.
"Thanks, let's get all this sorted and I'll show you what I have, and maybe explain the name situation", he says to the bard.
It doesn't take him long in the smokey room to determine that trying to get some air flowing through the chimney is non-starter. Once he spots the roots, he knows better than to waste his time.
Heading back out, he reports back to others, "The roots have got into the chimney as well. No go there. But keeping low should suffice to keep us safe. From the smoke at least".
He looks to the Sergeant, I am ready when you are.
The heart wants what the heart wants, Arren repeats to himself, his gaze shifting to the Human bandit. Could it really be that he joined this group out of love? For Nevesta? He would never have imagined such a reason, and the thought makes him realize that, bandits or not, these people are just… people. Like him. Like his superiors.
That thought doesn't last long, though. When the man jokes about the wall-attached skull, Arren rolls his eyes and shoots him a look that probably mirrors Nevesta's own.
"That's a pity," he says when their associate reports that there's no way to use the chimney to clear the air.
Arren stretches his arms one last time. "I'm ready as well." He then looks to the others in the room and adds, "Shall we?"
If they seem ready, he proceeds into the room, keeping his head low to avoid the worst of the smoke. He hopes Nafnlaus's and Flêche's lanterns will be enough to give them proper visibility.
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
While the door remains open, some smoke pours into the western room, which is makes things slightly worse for those in the eastern room, but slightly easier for anyone going inside. This gives everyone enough incentive to follow and search the last room. As large as it is, all eight can search inside without feeling too cramped. As times goes by, the smoke slowly disperses between all three rooms, and eventually beyond it, so it gets easier to breathe little by little. Everyone still uses some wet cloth to breathe through, though, and some - the Commandant in particular - make sure keep their heads low.
The room has no painted murals in it, and beyond the burned wall, there are no roots, thorns or vines of any kind. No vegetation at all. The south-eastern corner had collapsed, and a large pile of rubble covers the area. On the north wall, directly in front of the only entrance to the room, is a bas-relief depicting a sleeping dragon. It doesn't seem to be moving in any way. At the northeastern, northwestern and southwestern corners of the room stand three stone chests (one for each corner). Smaller than the sarcophagus - too small to house a body - and decorated with ingravings of dragons. All are closed.
"Three chests and eight of us. That doesn't divide well." Radis declares when he enters the room, after looking around for a few moments.
Varielky | Werhann
Once Bryn sees that there is nothing beyond this room, he decides that it is time to widen his view of the surroundings by perceiving the flow of magic.
He is quite open about using his ability, and is careful to ensure it doesn't look like an aggressive act to the others present.
As he takes a second look around, focussing first on the bas-relief and then the chests, he hears Radis's comment.
"You see, that education was not wasted", he replies with a good natured chuckle. "I would suggest checking those chests for traps before getting too excited and opening them", he adds in a more serious tone.
Concentration: Detect Magic - 10 minutes
"Maybe whatever is inside the chests can be divided," Arren says. "In any case, I agree — I don't trust anything in this room one bit."
Even if he isn't the best suited for investigating, he moves closer to the chests and inspects them carefully without touching them, looking for anything on their surface that might suggest some kind of trap. He does the same with the dragon bas-relief.
Arren leaves the actual opening of the chests to others, instead keeping a close watch on the bas-relief. Just in case...
Investigation: 11+1=12
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
((I'm pushing a little, because I imagine if I keep my usual approach, taking stuff out of boxes could take us several days.))
The room itself, walls and decorations included, is non-magical. The smoke, the remains of the roots, and the ash beneath them, are all non-magical as well. None of those present in the room carries anything magical either, as far as Bryn can tell. The traces of magic that surely clung to Nevesta's sword for a while have all dissipated by now.
Through the chests, none of which is over a foot thick, Bryn detects the presence of several magical objects.
Nothing about the room or the chests screams "trap" when Arren looks at it. He has no way to tell regarding what's inside, though, or whether some unnatural phenomenon will occur when opened, but at least he sees no pressure plates/wires/anything else he could think of. While Arren studies one chest, the bandits check out another, and after determining, to their abilities, that there are no signs of traps, they try to open it. The lids are heavy, several centimetres of stone thick, and require at least two people to slide away. Akvedinn and Radis work together to slide off one of the lids, and nothing unexpected happens when they do.
Encouraged by the success with one chest, the group will open the other two as well. Neither of them triggers any trap, as far as anyone can tell. Since I imagine neither side trusts the other, the lids are always opened by one of the bandits paired with one of the crew or Bryn. The Lieutenant stands by the door, at the southwestern corner, keeping a watchful eye over everyone. Mimicking him, Nevesta stands on the other side of the door. With this many watchful eyes, it is clear to all that any attempt to pocket anything is futile. Radis suggests that they search the pile of rubble, too, for it is the only corner where there is no chest, but after rummaging through it for a bit, the Lieutenant reports he found nothing but rocks. He does pick up one that looks strangely round, but Bryn can see it is non-magical. Still, a beautiful rock - according to the Lieutenant at least - so he places it along with everything else.
The items are taken out of the chests, one by one, and as people start coughing, a decision is made to take everything to the room where everyone rested before. While it is also, by now, somewhat full of smoke, it is far easier to breathe there, and it's also a more spacious room where the items can be laid out, and everyone can gather around them, so that all can see everything:
Once everyone stands around the collection of objects, after a few seconds of silence, Akvedinn is the first to break it. "Well, eight... things..." he looks at the Lieutenant's round rock with certain scepticism, "and eight of us. One for each?"
Varielky | Werhann
Arren is somewhat surprised that nothing happened when the chests were opened, but he assumes the plant-men, plant-fish, and the stone warrior were meant to be the true guardians of these treasures.
Of all the items, his attention is drawn most strongly to the bronze-colored, reptilian-looking plate. He steps closer to examine it, trying to determine exactly what it is—and whether it might be of any use to him. Is it part of a full suit of armor?
He can't help but take a sniff at the lead ring, as some of the others have done. "Cinnamon," he says, then shrugs, leaving the ring where it is. He's curious to see what the others will choose, and imagines the Commandant will want to keep hold of the book.
Finally, he takes a closer look at the stone. If there's no writing or carving on it, he can't imagine how they'll figure out what it's for. Perhaps it does nothing in particular—though he has to admit its shape is peculiar. "Well," he says, "maybe some studious person in the capital could tell us more about it. And the book."
Peindre l'amour, peindre la vie, pleurer en couleur ♫
Auriel | Shenua | Arren
Once he confirms the bas-relief and the chests are not magical in themselves, Bryn focusses on keeping a wary eye on everything as the others open the chests and remove the items. He stays quiet until they get all the items into the less smokey room.
Once there he will be quite honest about what he sees in the items.
"Six of the items show signs of magic. The only ones that don't are the round stone and the book", he says first of all.
When the Sergeant shows an interest in the bronze-like plate, he will tell him, "That has the aura of abjuration, which means it's purpose is defensive".
As people take an interest in each item he will explain in a similar manner what he can tell of it.
He will also speak to the Commandant about the book, "I can help you care for and translate the book, if that is what you are most interested in. Obviously that assumes we will still travel together". It is a matter of fact statement, not a plea.
For his part, he is most drawn to the trousers, which remind him of his humble origins growing up. Many a time his mother would repair holes in his trousers as a child. In fact, as he holds them, the others might notice a pensive look cross his face.
The Commandant looks at Bryn in a look that mixes surprise and distrust, but also curiosity. "You can read that? What language is it?" Even without opening the book, Bryn can see what must be a title on the cover, but he doesn't recognise the writing. If Bryn admits that he can do so using magic, she'll respond: "It seems your magic is different from what I imagined. Nothing to help against the statue, but detecting magic and reading dead languages?" She'll then pause, before resuming in a more hesitant manner: "I'd like to hear a bit more in detail. Once we're done here." She'll then drop the matter until the issue at hand is resolved.
Arren examines the plate, but finds nothing that could help him determine its use, if it had any at all. There are no signs it was ever attached to something - no holes or pins or anything that could be used to connect, and no signs of glue either, though that could have deteriorated over time. The shape of it also seems rather natural, if it truly is a scale, and not worked to fit into a larger construction. It's a bit large, too. Could be a chest piece of some heavy armour, but it would be too wide for Arren. Maybe fitting for Dwarves, who tend to be wider. It might function as a shield, with its size, if there were any way to hold it.
"So, how do we decide who gets what?" Radis raises the question to the room, looking at everyone but at nobody in particular. "Should we draw lots, perhaps?"
"I'm taking the book." Commandant Nattensbarn meets each person's eyes briefly to see if anyone objects. The bandits seem less interested in nonmagical objects, so none object. If both Bryn and Arren stay silent, she picks it up with both hands and steps away.
"Alright, one down. I don't have a preference myself, except..." Radis trails off and slowly shifts his eyes to the round rock. "I'm not interested in rocks. Round as it may be, if truly non-magical, we've got enough of those here." Nafnlaus and Akvedinn nod along.
There's a brief, tense moment, during which it seems things might not proceed as smoothly if none claims the stone, since otherwise the other six items need to be divided between all seven remaining people. But then, the Lieutenant picks the stone up. "I'll take it then." He steps back to stand by the Commandant, who at first seems displeased with the Lieutenant's choice, but the Drow explains, in a low voice but in the absence of other talkers, one that all can hear: "I won't be allowed to carry anything else back to Mey, and while I certainly prefer these objects at the hands of the military over those of bandits, I prefer to avoid confrontations, with two magicians in the room."
"Six left, and there are six of us," Radis says. "Any other preferences?"
"Yes, if you don't mind, I want to test the torch first." Nafnlaus wait briefly to see if there are any objections. If there are none, he'll extinguish his lantern first. Although the room is still partially lit from the Commandant's lantern, it becomes clearer just how much light the torch produces. He picks up the torch, which burns as always. "I'm always carrying a lantern anyway, might as well be this. Hmm, wouldn't want it to blow off the moment I step into the wind outside, though." He blows over the top of the torch gently to see if the movement of the air affects the flame. Immediately, instead of blowing out the flame, the air that comes out of Nafnlaus' mouth catches on fire, spreading away from the torch, towards Akvedinn, who stood by him.
Akvedinn, although caught in surprise, immediately steps away, releasing a few swears in the process, before checking whether his hair or clothes are on fire. Fortunately, since Nafnlaus only blew on the torch gently, no harm was done, it seems. "Aleshi take you and that thing down where you belong! Are you trying to burn my face off? At least look away before messing with flames you found in ruins guarded by statues! I see why someone would want these kept away."
Varielky | Werhann