Chapter 12: Shadows in the Dark

[Joe]

It is a rare, calm day at sea. Streko stands at the foredeck and gazes out at the vast, barren oceanscape. It is the only place on board ship he can actually see the water beneath them while simply standing on the deck and without the aid of a box, or chair, or person. He misses Varna and hates their forced benefactor with something he knows could lead him away from Olladra and toward one of the Six. The Devourer, no doubt.

"Isn't it more important to worry about the people you can actually help, than someone leagues away?" Varna asks. Oddly, he isn't surprised to hear her voice next to him, while still lamenting the great distance between them. The sea wind blows through his hair, cooling his scalp and the anger raging in his heart.

"Of course it is, but you must admit, being taken from you just months after finding you again...it's difficult."

"We are Tavvens, little brother. Difficulty is our lot in life."

"At least momma and poppa are happy. And at least you are safe. That is what matters."

"Your friends need you."

"They will be fine without me."

And, suddenly, he stands next to a cart, where a Gnome cradles his youngest child. Streko has just saved the child's life and the father looks at him with such incomprehensible joy and relief, that Streko feels his own heart stutter briefly, as if it was his own life that was just saved. The gnome hands Streko a sack. "It's special, Sir! It holds many things. Many more things than it should. And it makes the items you've placed inside it available to you just by thinking of them and reaching into it. It is glorious magic, sir, and the least I can give you in payment."

"No payment is..."

"My son's life is worth more than this haversack could hope to provide you. Your friend's lives are still in danger. You know that. Don't dally, Sir! Go to them. Be there for them. Be who Olladra asks you to be, who you MUST be. That is what my son's life is worth. It is worth the lives of your friends and your self. Your SELF, Master Streko Tavven d'Jorasco."

Then, blackness returns. And pain and voices barely audible. Distant, yet somehow close by. His friends. His last thought before blissfully surrendering to peaceful darkness is that his friends are still alive. They still need him.

And he wants to be there.

[Brian]

Tangat cradled in his arms, Condign watches Shorak proceed toward the lighthouse. That great, white light, he thinks. Why don't the denizens of this realm flock to it? Why do they leave it alone?

He gives a mental shrug. They have survived. They have discovered where the sphinx's mate is hidden. They must rest and await Histra. And they must return to Eberron.

He smiles grimly.

Then will be time for payment, and the coin will be in blood.

[Jeff]

Shorak approaches the place where the boulder-packed bridge meets the rocky shoreline; the two are distinct only in that the bridge is riddles with cracks and the land is largely intact. But for its many cracks and spaces between the boulders, the jetty is relatively flat and easily fifteen feet wide, seeming to be easily navigable. As the bay in this plane is strangely still, there are no waves or tides to make the boulders slick. They’re dry on top.

Shorak sees no threat. He looks back toward his companions, who approach. Belarin and Kal helping each other to keep moving, looking frail as an old half-elf woman he once saw begging in the Harbor district. This Harbor, and not far, but of course now a world away. Condign and Adamant, the largest of Shorak’s companions, are strong enough, carrying their burdens, but he imagines a single blow could knock either one over. Truly, Shorak’s adopted party look more weathered than anything he’s seen in this realm and, of course, Shorak feels it too. But everyone’s alive, those who are accounted for. Syrdan is gone, and Histra is off leading the yugoloth away. Her fate seems dependent on her misty form, or perhaps the yugoloth’s own injuries.

All seems as well as it can be—

But wait, there is something in the distance. Trailing them.

Shorak squints as if trying to sharpen his gaze across the landscape. There, striding through the battlefield they left a few minutes ago, is a tall figure. Striding…gliding? Shorak realizes with a cold stab to his gut that it’s the armored wraith sent by Branash ir’Sorell. The “emissary” last seen in the Labyrinth; then, Histra had kept it at bay.

It’s not running, but it is moving with a steady purpose. Shorak thinks that if the group were to stop walking, it would reach them in three minutes' time. The only options he can see would be to continue south and reenter the rest of Dolurrh's Harbor district from the opposite side, or else head to the lighthouse and hope there is a door. He can't tell from here.

So far, no one else has noticed the emissary.

[Dave B.]

Shorak looks past the others, he shakes his head and sighs for what feels like the millionth time. "Time to pick up the pace." He says as he starts moving over the rocks towards the lighthouse. "Branash's emissary approaches and quickly. Move as fast as you're able and I will do my best to get us into the lighthouse." Shorak moves as quickly as he safely can, his focus on getting them inside and away from the armored undead tracking them. Hopefully, there is a portal back to Xendrick inside. They definitely can't risk another fight now and they are in no shape to make a run for it around the harbor. Either they get in or this may be their last stand. He shakes his head at that thought. "No," Shorak says through clenched teeth, "We must survive! There are too many that need to answer for their actions."

[Darren]

Kal looks back over his shoulder, then shakes his head as he pushes Belarin faster. "You really have a way with these people," he says to Belarin. "Everyone keep moving. Shorak, find us a door and get us inside."

[Brian]

Branath's emissary, Condign thinks. A wraith of unknown power, coming at a time when we are nearly spent. Perhaps the gods will smile on us and the lighthouse will provide sanctuary.

"And perhaps one day my Jyoti will return to me," he says bitterly, and quickens his strides.

[Ken]

Belarin doesn’t look back at the approach of this new menace. He continues to stagger forward, although now with a little more speed.

He says to Kal, “I’m v-v-very charming.”

[Jeff]

Shorak feels his body fill with tension. He’s as tired as the others, and had been through some arduous battles with little rest, but at least he is a guide again. This is his element, and he feels responsible for keeping the others alive if only for a short while. To him, the group is moving at an agonizingly slow pace—like running from monsters in a dream, limbs seem weighted down and muscles nonresponsive. Yet across the boulder-packed causeway they go. Along the way, Shorak looks every direction—at his feet, in the sky, the path ahead, the path behind, even the water’s edge. He sees shapes occasionally stir the still waters of the bay. The Whelmed? Something else?

He feels very exposed out here, visible from afar and with few places to go.

And then at last the party reaches the island upon which the Lighthouse sits. Rather, the island that is the Lighthouse. Here it is just an angular crenelation of stone, all largely one piece. It’s a block-like building the size of a modest temple rising above the surface of the water to become a three-story, windowless tower. You can’t see the top of it from down here, but the shaft of white light is blazing from it into the sky. At the base of the building is a section of flat rock at the same level as the causeway; it seems to serves as a courtyard before the entrance; the entire bay serves as the Lighthouse's moat.

You see that there is a fifteen-foot-tall threshold leading into utter darkness. If there is light within the building, you cannot see it here. Sharp black spikes protrude from the top of the threshold. They are either a portcullis or an obvious trap. There is no sign of any mechanism for it. Likewise, there are no symbols carved anywhere obvious. No runes, no sign of habitation. Just that light at the top.

There is a soft rumble in the clouds.

[Darren]

"Well, this is quaint," Kal says as he looks at the building. "Here," he says to Belarin, handing the warlock his sharrash, "lean on this for a minute." Looking around, Kal bends down to pick up a rock that easily fits in his hand. He concentrates on it for the briefest moment and the rock springs to life with a shining light. Kal flings the rock into the opening ahead, hoping to shed light into the area, or spring a trap, or possibly both.

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I'm making an assumption here that, given your description of the terrain, there has to be at least one small rock around that Kal can cast Light on and throw into the opening....

[Dave B.]

Shorak checks the threshold for anything that might trigger the portcullis before they enter. He is a bit startled when a small ball of light whizzes past him into the darkness. He holds his breath. That better not trigger the portcullis, trapping them outside the lighthouse. He turns to give Kal a dirty look. "This is my forte. Please, allow me to do what I'm best at." As long as there is no apparent danger, Shorak ushers the group into the lighthouse and starts looking for a way to drop the portcullis in hopes of barring the Wraith from entering.

[Dave W.]

Since he has no breath, it can't be said that Adamant is winded... but his injuries are obvious. "Could we knock? Or politely as ask admittance?"

[Jeff]

Adamant sees no door upon which to knock. Just the solid rock of the building's outer wall.

It takes Kal a moment to locate a rock, forcing him to step down near the water’s edge where the rocks are smaller. Once lit with his spell, he tosses it through the threshold…

Glowing, it clatters to the ground on the opposite side, revealing a short, narrow passage, then a few steps down to what seems to be the beginning of a chamber. The passage is only fifteen feet long, but the chamber beyond it is larger. Without entering the passage you can’t see any more of it.

Shorak, crouched near the threshold, tenses as the rock flies past him.

Go ahead and give me a Wisdom (Perception) check, Dave B.

[Dave B.]

Perception check: 1d20+4=6 It's perfectly safe!

[Jeff]

Shorak finds nothing amiss about the threshold. No triggers for traps. Sometimes he can sense even the veiled threat of magical traps, but he doesn’t think there is any such thing here. Just in case, he searches as close as he dares for any arcane markings...the whole time consciously aware that the wraith figure is still drawing nearer. Concluding that it is safe, and seeing now that the wraith has reached the far end of the causeaway, he leads the party across the threshold...

[Jeff]

...And nothing happens.

When you’ve entered the short passage, Shorak stops to look for something that can lower the portcullis but finds nothing. If it can be lowered, the means to do so lies elsewhere.

So through the passage, down a few steps, and you find yourselves entering a surprisingly empty if large chamber, forty feet by forty feet. The ceiling is high as well, forty feet up, and an unlit, black wrought-iron chandelier hangs there. Black candles—which remind Belarin of one particular candle—look as though they’ve never been lit. The room is empty of any furniture though the ground has a single circular gray rug made of some coarse material. It’s rather cold in here.

There are no other exits—maybe?

There is an alcove in the far wall that’s as high as a regular door but only a three feet deep. The wall within it appears to be painted black.

[Dave B.]

"Quickly. Fan out and look for anything that might be a lever to lower the portcullis or a secret door maybe. Someone check under that rug, I'll examine that alcove." Shorak swiftly moves to the alcove and searches for a lever, markings, traps, something.

Perception check: 1d20+4=24. Just in case. And I hope it's needed. Hate to waste such a fine roll.

[Brian]

Condign lowers Tangat to the floor and approaches the rug. Kneeling, he examines it, then gently lifts the rug to look underneath it.

_________________________________________

Condign:1D20+1 → 7(6 + 1)#Perception Check

[Darren]

Kal helps Belarin to the middle of the room, then releases the other man. "Keep an eye on that door, okay?" Moving with painful slowness, Kal looks around the room, trying more to sense mystical energies than look for hidden levers.

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Arcana roll is a 24 (natural 20)

Apparently Dave and I can only roll 20's when we're not in combat.

[Jeff]

Shorak steps over to the alcove while Condign examines the rug and Kal looks around more broadly. The carpet is large, but peeling up one edge doesn’t reveal anything. Condign would have to clear everyone of the carpet and roll the whole thing away if he wishes to be thorough. Kal can’t really determine anything, but given that this chamber is much colder than the passage they just came through and the world outside, he feels it may not be a natural effect.

Shorak thinks there’s something odd about the black paint on the wall of the alcove; the floor of the alcove is unpainted. He suspects the painted portion might be illusionary, but would need to make contact with it to determine this.

---

Darren, Arcana can’t be used to sense magical energies (that’s what Detect Magic is for) but can be used to just make magic-based guesses about any stimuli. Like the above.

[Darren]

Dec 3, 2015 10:04:31 GMT -4 Jeff said:

Shorak steps over to the alcove while Condign examines the rug and Kal looks around more broadly. The carpet is large, but peeling up one edge doesn’t reveal anything. Condign would have to clear everyone of the carpet and roll the whole thing away if he wishes to be thorough. Kal can’t really determine anything, but given that this chamber is much colder than the passage they just came through and the world outside, he feels it may not be a natural effect.

Shorak thinks there’s something odd about the black paint on the wall of the alcove; the floor of the alcove is unpainted. He suspects the painted portion might be illusionary, but would need to make contact with it to determine this.

---

Darren, Arcana can’t be used to sense magical energies (that’s what Detect Magic is for) but can be used to just make magic-based guesses about any stimuli. Like the above.

"There's definitely some magic about this place," Kal says, "but that doesn't help us get to a more defensible position, and that's what we need right now. Condign, Shorak, have you found anything?"

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Yeah, I know. I seem to remember Ken doing things like this before, and I wasn't sure what check had been used or whatnot. It's all good.

[Ken]

Belarin, still using Kal’s weapon as a crutch, walks in and hears Kal’s comment. “Allow m-me,” he says. Although Belarin’s face still looks gray and drawn, his limbs have largely stopped shaking.  He hands the sharrash back to Kal and then he concentrates, forcing his eyes to see magical auras.

__________________

Belarin is using his Eldritch Sight invocation to detect magic.

[Dave W.]

Adamant gently lays Streko on the floor as far from the entrance as possible. "That door..." his neck makes a scraping sound as he nods his still awkwardly tilted head to the black door, ".... looks promising... and that's why we should check the floor. And walls and ceiling... so far in this place nothing that looks safe really is..."

He proceeds to help Condign roll up the carpet and look underneath.

---

Nothing in the room but the rug, chandelier, and that door, right?

dlw32:1D20+2 → 3(1 + 2)

And his eyes fall out... wow, dice have not been friendly to me in awhile...

[Jeff]

In Belarin's eldritch sight, he sees auras wreathing the portcullis and the chandelier (especially the candles) both with a similar conjuration variety of magic. He concludes the two must be linked.

[Dave B.]

Shorak quickly backs out of the alcove while pulling out a chunk of dried beef from his rations. He flips the piece of meat at the apparent black wall, watching intently to see what will happen. His muscles coiled to leap to the side if necessary.

[Ken]

“There’s some type of arcane link… between the opening and the chandelier,” Belarin says after a few moments. “Perhaps lighting the candles closes the portcullis…? Or perhaps seals us all into a death trap. Or both?” He continues to stare at the auras. “It’s… conjuration magic. Hmmph. Conjuring what?”

Trying to solve the puzzle seems to energize Belarin ever so slightly. “Lighting the candles would signal that someone is home,” he says, “and so closing the portcullis for security makes sense. However, lighting the candles in a dark place like this – with a portcullis connected – also smells like cheese to an incautious mouse.” He leans backs against the wall, weariness hitting him like a blow from a troll.*

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*And he knows what that feels like. ;-)

[Brian]

Condign gestures for Adamant to wait. "Everyone would have to step off the rug if we want to roll it up. I suggest we see what is beneath it. Does anyone object?"

[Jeff]

The little chunk of dried meat that Shorak tosses vanishes through the black-painted wall.

Belarin, while facing the portcullis gate, spies the wraith-like figure in the distance. Not so distant, perhaps. It is striding and nearly halfway across the causeway.

[Dave W.]

Dec 3, 2015 13:13:31 GMT -4 Ken said:

“There’s some type of arcane link… between the opening and the chandelier,” Belarin says after a few moments. “Perhaps lighting the candles closes the portcullis…? Or perhaps seals us all into a death trap. Or both?” He continues to stare at the auras. “It’s… conjuration magic. Hmmph. Conjuring what?”

Trying to solve the puzzle seems to energize Belarin ever so slightly. “Lighting the candles would signal that someone is home,” he says, “and so closing the portcullis for security makes sense. However, lighting the candles in a dark place like this – with a portcullis connected – also smells like cheese to an incautious mouse.” He leans backs against the wall, weariness hitting him like a blow from a troll.*

"Theologically, Light banishes Dark; it provides warmth and hope. It is written that Light is the Foe of Foul Creatures... hence it's affect on some undead. I find it a hopeful thought in very dire straights... Right now," Adamant glances at the oncoming Emissary and slowly draws his sword with his joints protesting creakily, "I see two choices, the Dark of that door or the Light of the candles. Many of us can barely stand... " he glances at Streko, "some not at all... we can not hold him off."

"Light the candles... call it a leap of faith."

Adamant pulls his shield to his arm and moves towards the opening to the outside. He doesn't go outside but he has prepared to slow the oncoming creature down when it enters this room.

[Ken]

Belarin, from his slumped position just inside the entrance, peers around the corner to peek at the approaching enemy. He says in a low, harsh voice to his friends, “I make decisions and people die. I won’t offer any opinion on lighting the candles. But… I may be able to slow down our friend.”

His face hidden behind the entrance, he calls out in a commanding voice that’s not his own. “Emissary! This is Lord Vassar. I have arrived to deal with these enemies of our House in my own way. Return to the keep, Emissary, at once. Branash will name a new enemy for you to slay soon enough.”

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Belarin is using his Actor feat to bluff the Emissary into thinking that he’s Vassar ir’Serell. He has advantage on the Charisma (Deception) check.
Belarin: repeat 2 d20+6  → 12; 20(6 + 6);(14 + 6) #Deception checks with Advantage. So that’s a 20.

[Dave B.]

Shorak turns towards the group. "I have found a passage, I think. This alcove leads somewhere, unfortunately, I don't know where." He had been listening to Adamant and Belarin about the candles. "I think we need to either risk lighting the candles or risk going through the alcove." He looks at the entrance they just came through, waiting for Adamant to signal if Belarin's bluff is in any way successful.