"What if it was Matthew and theis sibilings who built this places in the first place and Spanglehelm and the others jus reinforce it to seal... woah!"

Thurston finds himself holding the codex all of a sudden when Vark pass it on to him, as he was near him. 

He was about to speak but the thing is hot... like a metal coming out of the forge. 

"Ouch! Oh shit... Aaah.. it's hot!!" 

He puts it on the floor and shakes his hands. But then remembers what was happening. 

"Vark my friend, try not to be so jumpy on this matter. Jex is just pointing out the same dilemma we are facing since Sheercleft events. Between those Maginobi controlling Matthew and he set free and helping us... I think it's better the second option. Helping him regain all his former power and free his sibilings without really knowing their intentions... is risky. We need to take this thing out of here before it causes more damage to the dwarves above us, that's out of the question. But I want to be clear in one thing, once and for all. "

He holds Vark by the shoulders, kind of forcing him to look the tall Norscan in the eye. 

" We trust you. I trust you with my life and I will gladly give it to protect you, or any of the others,* for any harm. We all trust you. We do not trust Matthew. Do you understand the difference? I see how powerful you are becoming under his tutelage but remember, nothing is free, specially with the fiends. Be sure that the price is not to high for you to pay. We care about you and we support you, no matter what. If you want I'll be at your side when you ask him. " 

With that he lowers down and takes the Codex with one hand. He clutches his jaw as the thing burns his skin but he endures it and takes it. Shows it to Vark at his eyes level, takes his hand and puts the Codex on it. 

"That thing doesn't want me to hold it, I can tell..." 

*

Val watches the interaction between Vark and Jex with a heavy sigh and glance towards Thurston and Aiden. She looks warily at the strange object in Vark's outstretched hand, tensing as she hesitates, but immediately relaxing as Thurston takes it. She jumps up when he shouts in pain and stands over the object this... Codex as Thurston speaks with Vark. He speaks words of wisdom and speaks them well. She had similar thoughts, but not the gift to put them into words. 'Speak from heart.'  Larkin's voice echoed softly inside her head. She could feel his guidance and wisdom bleeding through the veil of the spirit world into her as she comes to stand next to Thurston.

"Thurston is right, Vark. None of us distrust you. If we did, I do not think we would have allowed you anywhere near this thing. I do not trust this fiend that is guiding your hand though. Much like this thing inside Rook, this power is a tool to be wielded with care. I do not trust this spirit inside my weapon, otherwise I would not have felt the need to pull Larkin free from it's grasp. This Matthew is the same way. Use the power his gives you, but do not do so without care. He already took control of you once... I fear he may try to do it again if you allow too much of him into you. And... much in the same way that I would expect you all to do to me should this Rook ever seek to escape through me, I will not hesitate to do what we must to stop his plans if he takes control over you. Remember what I said earlier, Vark. You do not need him. Never let him make you feel as if you do. I will say no more."

Vark gives a heartfelt smile at the Norscan's words. "Thank you Thurston. I know you guys trust me," the inflection is clearly meant to exclude Jex. Meanwhile the codex seems to calm again once it is in Vark's hand, harmless sparks jumping to bridge the gap before it makes contact with his skin. "Let's get going. I... I could use a drink." Before they get moving, Vark takes a moment to inspect the teleportation circle and memorize the runes around it.

"HA! There's still hope for you my friend! My good Jex!! show us the exit of this caves... first round is on me!" 

Within healers' halls, a dwarf grapples with nightmares and fleeting moments of consciousness. Only hours since the departure of his companions, Brundir had drank himself into a stupor and shut himself in his room at the inn from the night before. Pounds on his door roused him from sleep, but the dreams clung to his eyes, and he yelled at phantoms across the room. By the fifth time the pounding came, it was beyond insistent. Brundir took his sheathed blade in hand and stormed for the door, finding the wall for support only once along the way. "Come t'finish me, 'ave ye?! Ye'll not take me ag'in, ye damned bastards!" The dwarf was shouting at the door, as though it were a great ogre he were throttling with his own hands, "Take me, then! Ye won' see me nose 'fore my blade finds yer ****in' throats!" The door which held his illusory foes exploded to life, and tackled the fiery, drunken dwarf. A familiar form charged atop the fallen lumber, pinning Brundir underneath with all his fury and dizzy energy.

"Brundir, get ahold of yerself, lad! Yer safe 'ere, no one's comin' fer ye. What's more, yer scarin' ev'ryone away downstairs!" The younger dwarf wrestled against the weight holding him down, but managed to peek around the fallen barrier. Hurrig stared him down with fires to rival the greatest forges in his eyes. When Brundir's head emerged, a mailed hand clapped him on the head. He managed only a yelp before the rebuke followed, "Get ahold of yerself, ye damn twit! Yer not right. We've done what we can fer now t'patch yer skin, but yer mind is still broken." Brundir settled and looked around. The simple act of observing his surroundings was enough to send his head spinning. Slowly, everything settled. He saw a bed thrown into disarray from fitful thrashing. Curtains were pierced and rent from some struggle. Several mugs lay across the floor, along with as many plates and platters. There was no battlefield, no goblinoid raiders bearing down on him, no fateful steel hunting a mortal wound. When peaceful realization settled, the dwarf relaxed and allowed him self to retreat within and let emotions flow. The door was removed from him, and his arms covered his face before several heavy sighs and moans followed.

"Hurrig, I'm not right. I can't sleep, so I drink. When I drink, I sleep but can't escape that ******* camp. I'm dyin', I just know it, but not from any wound. This keeps up, I'll rip my own head off." The elder dwarf heaves the younger up by a shoulder and shoves a solid piece of covered steel into his chest.

"Ye take this now, an' clean yerself up. We're going fer a long walk to sort yer head out." An hour later, Brundir emerged on the doorstep of the inn belonging to Hurrig's family. His face was at war with itself, as though he hadn't slept in days deciding whether to sleep or drink. The dwarf chose to leave off his armour, but his fur cloak wrapped tight and gave no impression of such. He did, however, keep his distinctive blade strapped to his hip. Hurrig didn't even wait for signs of life in his companion. At the first look, he set off down the road.

"If I didn't trust you, you would have been dead long ago." Jex spits the words back over his shoulder as he walks back towards the exit. "Make no mistakes, you know I am not a one to hesitate should I feel an ending is required. You treat me unfairly with your words. I say nothing everyone doesn't feel, yet you resent me for saying the same words in a different order and for coming to the conclusion earlier than the rest. My apologies that it doesn't come with a hug from me, but I do not treat you all as a mark the way I do with those outside."

Aiden had been pondering Valaith's offer even as the young half-orc had taken this codex and the argument had begun. He had even been considering accepting, but this vapid hostility...he had seen it before among members of other groups he had travelled with. It began with accusations of mistrust, and ended with the crossing of blades. Probably best to hang around with these ones for as long as possible -- their adventures were sure to be profitable, and then get the hell out before the fighting began.

Then again, whatever Matthew was, it wasn't likely that he had benevolent intentions. But if he continued to lead the group to places like this, perhaps the risk was worth it. He shrugged inwardly. No point in deciding now. 

"Jex you- you CONSTANTLY treat me unfairly with your words!" There's a low rumble of thunder as his voice cracks. Vark rushes up to Jex so he can continue face to face. "You question everything I say, you question whether or not I'm in control of myself, you question the visions and the feelings that I get... The others listen at least, they- they try to understand and then voice their concerns but you... you're so condescending. You think I have no idea what I'm doing because you think you're smarter than everybody else and you know best and I'm-I'm-I'm SICK of it!" The red sparks that leap around Vark when he gets emotional are familiar to everyone now. "J-just because you haven't tried to kill me yet doesn't mean you trust me. But I don't care if you do or not, just... just leave me alone." As he says the last of his piece, the static dissipates and Vark storms off in the direction they'd come from.

"Whatever you say. If you don't see it I can't help you. I'll just be here to pick up what's left" Jex is calm and unflinching in stark contrast to Vark's violent arcane outburst,not even turning to look at the half orc. 

"This two need to get drunk... or to get laid... " says Thurston in low voice to Aiden while they keep walking. He then approaches Jex, despite the fact that he probably wanted to go as silently as possible. He, however and for once, speaks in almost a whisper to his friend.

"Vark doesn't understand" he keeps "I know what you are  doing, what the rest of us don't have the heart to do. But you  beign brutally honest is not helping. Keeping your distance just in case... extreme measures had to be taken. I hope it doesn't come to that, but we all know thyat Matthew is no trusthworthy at all. Has it's own agenda and doesn't reveal it to Vark, filling his head with promises. I think that our best chance is to reinforce his ties with us, show him the right path to walk, but still is him who has to walk it. " he puts a hand into Jex's shoulder " You are the strongest of us all my friend." 

And without waiting for an answer he walks back to Aiden's side.

"Aiden... I... Once we are out of here and in the tavern I would like to speak with you if that's ok?"

"Or both," Aiden says with a small laugh. When Thurston returns from talking with Jex and asks his question, he says, "Of course. Let's speak over drinks and food -- the gods know we could use a lot of both right now."

The ride back up to the passage beneath Thane Forgekeeper's throne room is notably slower than the descent, the ancient Dwarven elevator clanking and whirring as it hauls the treasure-laden heroes from the bowels of the mountain. Eventually, the ascent comes to an end and the machinery grinds to a halt, the tunnel ahead still lightless but for their own spells. When the distant glimmer of firelight finally marks the end of the long, dark journey, the sillhoettes of four Dwarven honour guards can just about be made out, brandishing halberds towards whatever encroaches on the hold from below.

"Dorok!" Says Thurston in dwarven to the guards. "Archanost ai-menu!" he then speaks in common again "We return with the mission accomplished. Fear not, for your city is safe and you will no suffer more earthquakes. But I suggest you to close the gate behind us " he adds once they are close to the honor guard. "There were some nasty buggers down there, specially a big weird creature with tentacles and a big mouth. What a fight it was!. The bards will sing it for decades!" 

It quickly becomes apparent that there is no 'incursion from the deep', only the Acharnost returning several hours later from their quest. Slowly lowering their halberds, the Dwarven guards allow the tired band of warriors to pass. Behind the wall of polearms, stand the Rhunki and Thane Forgekeeper, each armed and resplendent in the finest Dwarven armour.

"When the ruby sounded once more, I feared the worst!" Master Kragshield tells them with a weary smile as he sets his staff down. "Do you have it? May I see it?"

Vark nods and produces the ruby from his bag, holding it out for the dwarves to inspect. "B-be careful if you try to touch it. It... seems to only like being held by me right now. Uhm... Mister Rhunki, do you have any advice for what to do with it now? I'm connected to it in some way but... well I don't want it to fall into the wrong hands. It's very powerful."

The Rhunki bends forwards, bringing his gnarled old face up close to the codex as Vark retrieves the item from his pack. The aged Dwarf leans left and right around the cube's edges as he inspects the ruby, his eyes tracing the complex geometric patterns of runes that crisscross its surface.

"Oh, no, young Vark," Master Kragshield assures assures the sorcerer with a shake of his head, "I wouldn't touch the beacon. It has chosen you and it sounds like it is quite possessive too. There are indeed many who would wish to claim such power. Keep it close and trust the runestone to guide you on your path. You must learn to discern its own power from that of the Trove Lord himself. The two were entwined for so long that they are deceptively similar."

Vark nods studiously, then tilts his head with a curious look. “Uhm... could you tell me more about this Trove Lord? Was he the one that created the ruby?”

"Ah, yes, of course! My apologies," Master Kragshield remarks with a touch of embarrassment. "We Rhunki sometimes forget that not everyone is as versed in the ways of the Morndinsamman as we are. 'The Trove Lord'. 'The Wyrm of Avarice'. These are titles that we give to Abbathor, the Crimson King of trickery. He did not forge the ruby runestone, but He was its master in ancient times, until it was hidden from His reach."

The warlock visibly pales at the epithets for the entity he can only assume is one of Matthew's forms. "A-Abbathor? Was... was this Abbathor... the Trove Lord... evil? And... who did forge the codex?"

Master Kragshield shrugs noncommittally. "He is the embodiment of greed, but He is also one of Moradin's ilk. Is greed evil? Can family be evil? The world is not so black and white, young Vark. What does evil mean to you?"

"The Trickster is without honour," Thane Forgekeeper interrupts sharply, "do not seek Him out."

"Yes, but He does not control the beacon," the Rhunki adds placatively. "He merely left his mark upon it. Knowledge of the runestones' creation has been lost to the ages."