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"Let's take a different approach this time," Dorn decided, "instead of the secret stairway down to Level Three. Unless you have a better idea by way of long association?" he asked, glancing at Cabe Eveda, Pact-Sworn to The Whispering Beast.

"I can't say I do," Cabe answered. The surface ruins of Arden Vul near the descent into "The Basement" were a grim testament to the city’s shattered grandeur. The air here was often heavy with the scent of ancient dust and damp rot, a stark contrast to the Blood Scent or Heart Thrum which Cabe might pick up in more populated sections of the ruins.The air near the massive, cliff-side ruins carried a faint whiff of ozone.

Dorn's hand rested on the pommel of Swift, his chainmail armor gleaming under the pale sun.

Cabe stood at Dorn's side, his Heart Thrum already pulsing as he scanned for the hidden heartbeats of whatever lurked just past the threshold.

Aele stood just behind them, the metallic dust for his rituals partially consumed, though he had plenty for the next few days. These two are scrapping for a fight; I, however, hunger to uncover the secrets of the Progenitors.

"You're sure this is the right spot?" Dorn asks Cabe. Vedecab Dorn reminds himself. I am Thrangir, the wizard-priest is Zorael, and our new friend is Vedecab Eeii. The false identities were, in Dorn's mind, absolutely essential, given the price on his head put there by The Blackfists.

Cabe looks at the ancient stone of the decrepit administrative building. "It's the only structure with a chimney within view and which is near to the pyramid," He answered, indicating the nearby great pyramid of Thoth. To their left, the roar of the Long Falls was a constant, white-noise rumble.

Aele feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up when Dorn draws Swift, his magical longsword. This was the first soul-bound weapon the priest had ever encountered. His Thothian sight saw much that others missed, and Aele had quickly realized that the spirit of their slain former companion — Exodore, Dorn's lover — had invested the blade, choosing it as her eternal home; or, if not eternal, probably at least for the remainder of Dorn's life. Let's hope that isn't unfortunately brief.

Dorn had been quietly pleased to see that his blade had developed an enchantment. Here in the afternoon sunlight, it was still apparent that Swift gave off a pale blue luminance. Down below, that illumination was better than that provided by a torch. It could not be blown out by a breeze, extinguished with water, or become spent like a torch. Nevertheless, Aele carried a bullseye lantern in his off-hand, right hand gripping his (sadly) non-magical but nevertheless trusty mace.

Dorn felt a warm, comforting weight on his mind, now that Swift was in his hand. He liked to think it was Exodore, watching over him. He was more correct than he knew. He gains 1 (1d4) temporary hit point: 35/34; AC

"What do you see?" Dorn asked Cabe. The Pact-Sworn sighed. "As I've explained, I don't see what is ahead, not unless I am able to see through the eyes of some creature I have wounded. What I am doing right now is sensing the thrumming of beating hearts. Yes, there are living creatures below, but we are yet too distant for me to discern anything more specific."

The area surrounding the stairs is a jagged landscape of collapsed masonry and choked courtyards. Once-mighty obsidian and granite pillars lie toppled like the ribcage of a dead giant. Many are carved with fading bas-reliefs of the Archons, though moss and lichen have claimed most of the detail.

As Aele brushes away centuries of grime and thick, grey moss from the stone lintel above the stairs, several distinct markers become visible. These aren't just decorative; they serve as a warning and a map for those who know how to interpret them. An engraved eye is surrounded by three concentric rings. Dorn looks a question at the wizard-priest and Aele says, "A ward, but no longer active. For centuries, though, it would have permitted the priests of Thoth to survey those entering and leaving this stairwell."

Our three heroes begin their descent. Where the surface ruins are weathered and airy, the stairs downward consist of tighter, more utilitarian stonework. The transition is sharp; the wind whistles through the broken archways above, but it dies into a heavy, stagnant silence the moment Aele has passed the fourth or fifth riser. I'm not afraid. I've survived a beastman ambush. We're too close to the surface to encounter anything substantial Aele decides.

The three come out into a chamber. The smell of lichen and algae and something else registers. Cabe signals quietly toward a collapsed wall of masonry to the north. Something alive there. Dorn nods, his grip tightening on Swift. The magical blade pulses with a steady, pale light, casting long, dancing shadows against the damp masonry.

The rubble to the north consists of massive limestone blocks that once formed a grand archway, now a jagged heap of stone and dust. Dorn shifts his buckler forward, sword raised, and advances to the north. Cabe extends his senses forward. The heartbeat to the north isn't the rapid, fluttering beat of a bird or a small animal; it’s slow, heavy, and resonant. It sounds like something of significant size—or something very calm.

As they reach the edge of the rubble, the light from Swift and Aele’s lantern spills over the top of the debris, revealing the chamber beyond — the remains of an old scriptorium. Rotting wooden desks are overturned, and the floor is carpeted in a thick layer of pulpy, decomposed parchment.

Crouched in the far corner, partially obscured by a heavy stone table, is a singular, massive figure. It stands nearly seven feet tall, covered in matted, grey-white fur. It has the muscular build of a man but the elongated snout and sharp canines of a baboon. It is hunched over a pile of what looks like scavenged metal, its eyes reflecting the lantern light with a dull, silver glint.

The trio freezes at the edge of the light. Aele raises a hand, signaling for Dorn and Cabe to hold their steel. He recognizes the creature—one of the "White Ones," an ancient lineage of baboons that have inhabited these ruins since the time of the Progenitors.

Aele closes his eyes, focusing his will to bridge the gap between human intellect and the primal, sacred mind of the beast.

The creature remains hunched over its scavenged metal, its back to the party. It is preoccupied, perhaps picking through the debris for something specific. It is completely unaware of the three adventurers standing in the pool of lantern light. Still, Dorn is surprised that the combined illumination of the lantern and longsword haven't broken the massive creature out of its preoccupation.

Aele steps forward, keeping his movements fluid and non-threatening. He doesn't speak aloud; instead, he projects a sense of calm, reverence, and purpose. He invokes the "Scholar’s Peace," a mental signature recognizable to those creatures that have lived in the shadow of Thoth for millennia.

The creature’s ears twitch. It slowly stops its picking and turns its massive, silver-maned head. It sees the armored warrior and the blood-scented stalker, but its gaze settles on Aele.

It lets out a low, vibrating huff—not a bark of aggression, but a sound of deep uncertainty. It rises to its full height, knuckles resting on the stone floor, its silver eyes searching Aele’s face for the mark of the temple.

Dorn stands braced and ready. If that "huff" turns into a roar, he is positioned to take the charge.

Cabe's Blood Scent picks up the smell of old copper and ozone coming from the metal the baboon is holding. His Heart Thrum confirms this is the only oversized heartbeat in the room, though there are tiny, skittering beats (likely rats) in the walls.

Aele’s movements are agonizingly slow, designed to avoid any sudden shifts that might trigger the creature’s predatory instincts. As the holy symbol—a stylized ibis on a moon disk—swings into the dim light of the lantern, it catches the glow of Dorn’s magical blade.

The baboon’s nostrils flare. It recognizes the geometry of the symbol.

Since Aele’s hands are full, he cannot perform the complex manual mudras of the Thothian liturgy. Instead, he performs the "Scholar’s Bow": he keeps his hands exactly where they are—lantern and mace held wide and low to show he is not bracing for a strike—and slowly tilts his head at a 45-degree angle, exposing his neck slightly while keeping his gaze respectful but firm.

Reaction Roll (Modified by Aele’s Charisma 14 and Holy Symbol):

The creature’s posture shifts. The tension in its massive shoulders ripples and then subsides. It lets out a shorter, softer huff and retreats two steps toward the side, clearing the direct path to the northern door.

It crouches back down, but its eyes remain fixed on Aele. It is no longer a guard, but it is an observer. It seems to be "granting passage" to the Priest, though its gaze toward Dorn and Cabe remains suspicious.

As the creature moves, the "scavenged metal" it was huddled over is revealed. It isn't just scrap; it appears to be a broken bronze gears and a fractured lens from some ancient astronomical device.

Cabe’s Blood Scent confirms the ozone smell is coming from the lens—it still holds a faint, static charge of ancient energy.

The northern door is now accessible. It is heavy wood reinforced with iron bands, likely leading to the "Administrative Loop" of The Basement.

The huge white baboon has adopted a neutral posture. Aele offers a silent prayer for his companions: grant them the wisdom not to touch or approach the guardian's treasure...

Cabe senses that the heartbeat of the baboon has slowed to a steady, calm rhythm. However, he now hears a faint, metallic clinking sound coming from the other side of the northern door. That circular component with the crack in it: I am certain I sense some energy contained within...

Without taking his eyes off the baboon, Dorn slowly moves closer to the door to the north, then listens with his ear pressed against it. Aele silently applauds. He slowly puts his mace back through a loop on his belt, then carefully and slowly rummages within a belt pouch and produces an apple. This he sets on an overturned nearby pillar, then glances at the baboon, noting its keen attention.

As Aele places the apple on the fallen limestone pillar, the White One follows the movement with its large, silver eyes. Once Aele retreats a few steps, the baboon lopes forward with a silent, knuckle-walking gait, snatches the fruit, and retreats back to its bronze "treasure." It doesn't eat it immediately; it sniffs it deeply, then lets out a low, satisfied grunt.

Pressing his ear to the cold iron bands of the northern door, Dorn holds his breath. He hears a rhythmic, mechanical clink-clink-clink followed by a heavy, sliding sound—like stone dragging over stone. It sounds repetitive, suggesting a trap, a machine, or something pacing a very specific route.

Cabe closes his eyes and filters out the baboon’s calm pulse. Beyond the door, he detects nothing. No heartbeat. No blood pumping. No warmth. He draws a deep breath. There is no scent of sweat, musk, or decay. Instead, the air leaking through the door-frame smells of old oil, cold iron, and scorched copper. Whatever is making that noise behind the door is not alive. When Dorn looks to him in silent question, Cabe points to his own chest, then makes a negating motion with his head. Dorn nods once, understanding.

Aele slowly eases toward the door, intent on searching for any inscriptions. Even as the White One investigates the apple, its sheer muscularity is intimidating; a single swipe of those silver-furred arms could indeed end a scholar’s career. Dorn shifts his weight, his heavy chainmail clinking softly as he steps into the line of sight, a human wall of steel and muscle protecting the priest.

Aele holds the lantern high, letting its warm light wash over the door's surface. He ignores the rusted iron and focuses on the wood and the stone frame.

The Inscription: Faded but still legible in the lintel above the door is a line of Middle Thothian script. It reads: "Maintenance and Logistics – Authorized Custodians Only. Silence is the Handmaid of Precision."

Aele notices a small, circular indentation near the handle—not a keyhole, but a receptacle for a signet ring or a specific amulet. However, the wood around the latch is splintered, suggesting that over the centuries, the locking mechanism has been bypassed or forced.

While Aele reads, the sounds from within grow more distinct. Without the distraction of the baboon's breathing, the trio can identify the clink-clink-clink as the sound of metal articulating against metal. Cabe, still watchful of the baboon, draws close to his companions and says in a soft voice, "The coppery smell is getting stronger, but the noises are regular. They don't vary."

Aele nods. "Could be an ancient automaton or golem, still doing the same thing it was doing millenia ago. Look here at the latch. It's busted and the door isn't latched. See that hole?" He holds the lantern close while first Cabe, and then Dorn, take turns having a peek. "Probably made for a signet ring or amulet to act as a key," the wizard-priest surmises.

Dorn says, quietly but distinctly, "All right. This door is our only way forward, unless we want to return to the surface. Cabe, see if you can find any hinges. I have oil in my pack. Do what you can with it, then see if you and Aele can get a peek at whatever is on the other side. I'll keep our overmuscled friend here company while he contemplates his apple."

Cabe moves with the predatory grace of the Beast-kin. He takes the vial and approaches the heavy door. His Blood Scent is overwhelmed by the metallic tang from within, but his focus remains sharp.

Cabe locates the three massive iron hinges. They are caked in centuries of dust and orange rust. He carefully tips the vial, letting the oil seep into the dry joints. He waits a moment for it to penetrate, then places his hand on the wood to feel for vibrations.

The Peek: With Dorn acting as the anchor, Cabe and Aele lean in. Cabe applies pressure with a single finger, easing the door open a mere half-inch. Aele holds his lantern light up to the narrow aperture and strains to discern what lies beyond. He freezes, and his mouth goes slack...

To Be Continued...

The former Set cultist pulls back the hood of his red cloak, revealing himself. "Know that I am no longer a slave to Set. My pact is with The Whispering Beast. For months I have been His. Of late, certain outward characteristics have made it impossible to continue to feign loyalty to the snake god." And indeed, Aele can see that this is no Set cultist, for they either have human or snake-heads — sometimes in bewteen if they are of intermediate rank.

"You are blood-fused with The Whispering Beast?" Aele asks with incredulity. "Things among the Set cultists must be even worse than I could imagine. Can you explain what a blood-binder is doing with a Setite and these beastmen?"

"I can and will, but first things first." He stoops down and places a clawed hand on the fallen Set cultist's chest. Cracking and popping sounds ensue, and the dead cultist's chest implodes inward. The man (beast?) with the wolf's ears casually gestures at the two beastmen and they choke. One panics and bolts for the forest, the other drops to its knees, clawing at his throat. Soon, neither moves, and Dorn thrusts Swift through each's chest just to be extra sure, before returning to face this interloper.

"Who are you?" Dorn asks.

"My name is Cabe. I was a loyal follower of the snake god for three years, and even advanced a couple of ranks within the Halls," he shares, referring of course to the Halls of Arden Vul. "I rose in the ranks of the Fangs of Set, then was promoted to work under Heker-Set, the Keeper of the Scales. He was ... abusive. A year ago, I was able to obtain a long-term assignment monitoring Surface operations for ... as you call it, the cult of Set. But I must tell you, Set is very much alive. His followers are no mere deluded cult, destined to die out in due time."

"I believe you," Aele says, "for I have learned in recent weeks that my own god, Cromm, is but an aspect of the ever-living Thoth. Something is very much amiss, for we have been grossly misinformed here on the Surface in recent decades." He glances at Dorn, who is examining some coins and trinkets that the beastmen were carrying, then turns his attention back to Cabe.

"Cabe who?" Aele asks. "What is your surname?"

"Aveda; I hail from Beretun. My father is a hops farmer there, and mother works at The Bailiff's Truncheon in Gosterwick."

"I know that place," Dorn adds. "Still doesn't explain how you kept your ... tranformation a secret from the Set cult."

"In truth, I am not certain it remains a secret, though I hope it is. I have not been back within the Halls in a little over a year, making my reports to Heker-Set through the usual channels, at the appointed times. I have no indication that he suspects anything is amiss."

Aele interjects, "Explain the cooperation between the cultists and the beastmen." He gestures at the two beastmen that Cabe has slain. "And how did you kill these two?"

Cabe nods and answers the second question first. "I sampled those two's blood and have since sung their heartsong to The Whispering Beast under a full moon. Thus I controlled their beating hearts."

Aele looks at Dorn, whose stoic expression perhaps conceals his own concern about this sort of power. The wizard-priest figures the fighter's thoughts are strolling down the same lane as his own. What sort of boon might this ... man-beast be to us in the megadungeon, if we can trust him?

As darkness falls, the three sit round a campfire laid on a knoll almost a mile west of the road, and half a mile past the defiled shrine where they fought earlier in the day. Dorn has carefully stacked stones in a wall round the fire, partially hiding its light, and they are roasting a brace of rabbits over hot coals.

"So," Cabe ventures, after polishing off rabbit meat, a thick hunk of bread, and an apple, "tell me more of yourselves." Although he has offered to pass around a wineskin, Aele and Dorn have declined. They have accepted the apples and bread, after Aele examines them with the enhanced sight granted him by Thoth.

"You must understand that we do not yet fully trust you," Aele states. "For while my knowledge of Set suggests you have probably been truthful about your history with the cult, that is no guarantee that you aren't playing both sides. Perhaps, in addition to having made pact with your master, you are still willing to play the cult."

"Your suspicion is warranted, and I can tell you that I am wily, shifty, and too clever by half. However, it so happens I'm being genuinely honest for a change. I grow tired of even deceptively serving Heker-Set. I would see him suffer and be brought low. And although the odds of that happening are low, adventurers like yourselves will likely be his downfall, if it happens at all."

"It will happen, for I have sworn to bring the Halls low," Dorn says, staring into the fire.

Cabe arches an eyebrow and seems ready to ask another question, but Aele subtly warns him against pursuing it. Instead, he asks, "Might I offer assistance in your efforts to cast down that dungeon to the north?"

Dorn throws the pit of his apple into the fire, then looks at Cabe. "You killed two beastmen. You can't be all bad..." And the three of them chuckle.

"Perhaps there is something I can do that may demonstrate my usefulness," Cabe ventures.

"So long as it doesn't involve blood binding us," Aele says, curious.

"In this particular case, it does not. You are both still a bit worse for wear after our skirmish earlier today," he observes, noting scrapes and bruises and the occasional bandage. "I can share a small portion of my ... vitality to restore you, if you will permit it."

"I enjoy being injured; makes me fight meaner," Dorn says.

Aele grins, then sobers and says, "you may do so with me, but be warned" — and here, Aele's eyes momentarily light up an eldritch blue — "I shall know by the wisdom of Thoth if you seek to be in any way duplicitous."

Cabe nods. "I believe you. Very well then. I will open myself to you. Take only what you need. The Whispering Beast provides the bridge."

And sure enough, a cut on Aele's hand heals, and a bruise on his temple disappears. After a few seconds, fully healed, Aele says, "Remarkable. I would not have thought miraculous healing possible, except through the gods."

"In truth," Cabe says, "it is not miraculous. But it is a supernatural ability and certainly one that I would not have, had I not made Pact."

"What did you promise this Whispering Beast?" Dorn asks, bluntly, but Aele raises a hand palm out to forestall this line of inqury, and Cabe says, "I may not speak of it."

"In that case, explain why you would be willing to give of your lifeforce to another," Dorn demands.

Cabe nods, appreciating the question. "I recover vitality very quickly, much quicker than normal men. It was a sacrifice for me, yes; but a short-lived one."

The next morning dawns cool and with dew on the fields and on the knoll.

"Well," Aele remarks, "I see you decided not to flee us during the night, nor robbed us or attempted murder."

Dorn shares hard tack all around. "I told you, someone who kills beastmen can't be all bad." And he shares a grin with Cabe Aveda.

"No, indeed," Cabe agrees. "And had you been attacked in the night, I would have fought for you. Listen, I have a good idea who among Set's disciples ordered yon shrine to Thoth to be defiled. What say we travel together for awhile, jointly bust some skulls, and see if shared danger won't forge a bond? Regardless of your answer, I will seek to deliver the shrine defilers into your hands."

The heroes have just successfully figured out the puzzle and have triggered the jade elephant statue, which now slides slowly but smoothly aside to reveal a vault beneath.

The three heroes stand within the Vault of the Elephant, the stale air of the chamber shifting as the massive stone effigy grinds across the floor to reveal the sub-vault's entrance. The two rescued goblin captives hover near the heroes’ heels, their wide eyes darting between the newfound treasure and their "Ambassador" saviors.

The mechanism has functioned perfectly. As the elephant statue completes its rotation, a set of narrow, dust-choked stairs descends into a smaller, more secure chamber below the main vault.

Aele's heart-seed scarab pulses with a faint amber light, reacting to the ancient Thothian resonance in the secure sub-structure.

The captives whisper to one another in their guttural tongue, clearly hesitant to enter a place even their King, Weskenim, has not seen inside for generations.

Dorn commands the goblins to stand guard at the entrance to the Vault of the Elephant, and to raise a hue and cry in alarm if anyone approaches while the heroes are below in the sub-vault. Before descending, Dorn will use an iron spike to ensure that the elephant statue cannot move back into place, sealing the heroes below.

With the spike firmly set and the goblins keeping watch, the heroes turn their attention to the narrow stairs. The Heart-Seed Scarab around Aele's neck pulses with a warm, amber light as he approaches the threshold, its Thothian magic sensing the ancient secrets buried below.

With the spike firmly set and the goblins keeping watch, the heroes turn their attention to the narrow stairs. The Heart-Seed Scarab around Aele's neck pulses with a warm, amber light as he approaches the threshold, its Thothian magic sensing the ancient secrets buried below.

The heroes descend into the cool, stagnant air of the sub-vault in a tight tactical formation. Dorn leads with his shield, the Aegis of the Firmament, held high to intercept any physical threats , while Aele remains a half-step behind, shielded by the fighter’s obsidian-clad bulk.

Maintaining the Blood-Bond, Cabe ensures that any sudden trap damage is distributed across the party's combined health pool.

The Heart-Seed Scarab pulses with amber light. Aele is mentally prepared to trigger Thoth's Champion at the first sign of a guardian.

The stairs end in a small, circular chamber. The floor is covered in a layer of fine, white dust. In the center of the room stands a waist-high stone plinth holding a heavy, leather-bound volume and a small, ivory box.

Aele steps forward, his Silver Signet (Magistrate's Ring) catching the amber light of the Heart-Seed Scarab as he raises his Staff of the Silver Tongue. Utilizing his Thothian insight, he begins a methodical scan of the chamber. His senses are heightened by his specialized gear. He carefully parses the magical weave for any "Weight of Ma'at" seals or similar ritualistic traps.

Aele detects a faint, shimmering aura surrounding the stone plinth. It is not a trap designed to harm, but rather a Vocal Lock or an Identity Seal.

The Ivory Box: The box is protected by a thin veil of abjuration magic that will likely trigger a "Guardianship" spell if opened by anyone not recognized as a Thothian Magistrate or priest.

The Leather Volume: This book is saturated with ancient Thothian energy. Aele senses that the Heart-Seed Scarab is the physical key required to safely lift the "Seal of Silence" from its pages.

The Floor: The white dust on the floor is not mere age; it is finely ground limestone, a common Thothian deterrent for tracking invisible entities—or perhaps revealing the footprints of those who shouldn't be here.

Aele steps closer to the plinth, the Heart-Seed Scarab around his neck glowing with an intense, rhythmic amber light as it recognizes the ancient Thothian wards. He places his hand near the Leather Volume, the translucent green agate of the scarab acting as a conduit between the Scholar and the ancient seal.

As Aele brings the scarab into proximity with the book, the shimmering blue aura begins to harmonize with the amber pulse of the agate. Aele recognizes the specific magical signature as a variation of the seal he was told the scarab could bypass.

The Silver Signet (Magistrate's Ring) on his finger hums in resonance, signaling to the sub-vault's dormant logic that a recognized official of the Empire is present. With a soft click that echoes through the circular chamber, the leather straps on the volume unlatch themselves, and the veil over the ivory box thins into nothingness.

With the magical wards neutralized by the scarab, the contents of the plinth are now accessible:

Item	Description	Aele's assessment
The Leather Volume	An ancient Thothian tome titled "The Resonances of the Deep Pipes."	Grants Advantage on checks to navigate or manipulate the machinery of Arden Vul.
The Ivory Box	A small, cold box carved with the likeness of a lotus.	Contains three vials of shimmering liquid and a silver key.

Dorn remains at the ready with Swift and the Aegis of the Firmament, his eyes scanning the shadows of the room for any physical guardians that the magical silent alarm might have summoned despite Aele's bypass. Cabe maintains the Blood-Bond, his senses heightened by the primal energy of the vault. The sub-vault remains quiet for now.

Aele carefully reaches for the ivory box, his Silver Signet glinting in the amber light as he lifts the lid. Inside, the silver key and the three vials of shimmering liquid are revealed in the glow of the Heart-Seed Scarab.

Aele performs a quick scholar’s appraisal of the items:

The silver key is cold to the touch and engraved with a stylized elephant’s head; Aele suspects this is the "Master Key" to the deeper mechanisms of the Vault of the Elephant.

Aele recognizes the three shimmering vials as Thothian Elixirs.

Vial 1 (Pale Blue): An Elixir of Clarity, likely granting a temporary boost to Intelligence checks or mental saving throws.

Vial 2 (Deep Crimson): A potent healing draught, possibly equivalent to a high-tier potion of vitality.

Vial 3 (Swirling Amber): This elixir resonates with the Heart-Seed Scarab, perhaps used to temporarily empower Thothian rituals or surges.

While Cabe keeps watch and Dorn remains braced behind the Aegis of the Firmament, Aele turns his attention to the ancient tome. As a Savant and Adept with the Heart-Seed Scarab, he decodes the Thothian script with remarkable speed.

Engineering Map: The volume contains a schematic of the Pipe Tunnels on Sublevel 4, marking the flow of the "Great Breath" and identifying hidden maintenance bypasses.

The Elephant’s Purpose: The book reveals that the Vault of the Elephant was originally designed as a pressure-stabilization chamber for the entire mega-dungeon's hydraulic system.

Ritual Instruction: Aele finds a passage that describes how to use the Silver Key to manually override the Cistern of Skulls floodgates, which could be a decisive tactical advantage in future encounters.

Aele carefully stows the ancient tome and the delicate ivory box into his gear, his Silver Signet glinting as he secures the new assets. With the Heart-Seed Scarab continuing to pulse with a steady amber light, the heroes turn their back on the circular chamber to follow the "Maintenance Bypass" path described in the text.

Following the schematics from the tome, the heroes ascend the stairs, retrieve the Iron Spike to free the elephant mechanism, and signal the goblin sentries to follow. According to the book, a concealed lever behind a loose stone in the main vault's northern wall reveals the Maintenance Bypass.

Dorn finds the concealed lever fairly easily. A narrow, vertical shaft with a rusted iron ladder descends deep into the mechanical "guts" of the Pipe Tunnels. This bypass allows the party to circumvent the main corridors, potentially emerging behind any remaining Beastman patrols near the Cistern of Skulls.

The ladder down into the Maintenance Bypass is slick with condensation and the smell of ancient oil is thick.

As the heroes exit the sub-vault and return to the Vault of the Elephant, something in the magical programming of this site is triggered, perhaps because the Sun-Pendant was removed from the jade elephant statue. Ghasts and the chamber's husks now attack.

Aele stands tall, his Silver Signet Ring catching the amber light of the Heart-Seed Scarab. As the wooden feline constructs tense their springs to leap, Aele strikes the floor with the butt of his staff, projecting a voice of magisterial authority that resonates with the ancient harmonics of the vault.

Aele uses his Advantage (Scarab/Lore) and his +2 bonus (Leather Volume/Thothian Mystery).

Roll 1: 18 | Roll 2: 14
Result: 18 + 4 (Int) + 3 (Proficiency) + 2 (Volume) = 27.

Success: The command is absolute. The feline husks, mid-pounce, twist in the air with impossible agility. Instead of landing on Dorn, they use the warrior's pauldrons as springboards, their wooden claws extending like jagged obsidian as they pivot toward the pale horrors climbing out of the shaft.

Aele has used his Action to dominate the constructs. Now, he utilizes the Scribe's Linothorax to trigger a ritual as a Bonus Action.

Ritual Triggered: Thoth's Comfort.

Effect: Aele, Cabe, and Dorn each gain +1 HP (instantaneous), and +1 to AC and Saving Throws for the next 30 rounds.

Scarab Synergy: Because this ritual restores hit points, the Heart-Seed Scarab triggers.

Aele feels the Heart-Seed Scarab pulse with a rhythmic, golden warmth as the Thoth's Comfort ritual takes hold. The amber light flows from the agate scarab into his chest, weaving a shimmering lattice of protective energy around his soul. Aele gains 5 (1d6) Temporary Hit Points.

Party Status

Hero	HP	Temp HP	AC	Status
Aele	41/41	5	16	Linothorax Active; Rituals are Bonus Actions.
Dorn	35/34	0	27	Swift is drawn (+1 AC); Aegis active.
Cabe	32/31	0	16	Bow drawn; Blood-Bond active.

Dorn draws Swift with a ring of cold steel, and stands as a bastion of iron and jade. With an AAC of 27, the Ghast's filthy claws (which usually require a 13 or 14 to hit a standard knight) now need a natural 19 or 20 to find a gap in his defenses.

Dorn steps into the Ghast's reach, using the weight of his +1 Plate to shoulder-charge the creature while swinging Swift in a brutal horizontal arc.

Attack Roll: 17 + 8 (Base/Knack/Str) + 1 (Thoth's Comfort) = 26 to hit.
Damage: 1d8 + 8(Str/Knack) = 15 Damage.
The Result: The blow is devastating. Dorn cleaves through the 
Ghast’s ribs, the magical edge of Swift cauterizing the necrotic flesh. 

Dorn follows through with a shield bash (Great Strike), forcing the creature to make a Strength save.

Ghast Strength Save: 8 (Failure).
Effect: The Ghast is sent reeling backward, 
tumbling over the lip of the shaft and falling 
30 feet into the dark. CRUNCH.

Current Tactical Standing Ghast #1: Being shredded by the 3 Feline Husks at the edge of the shaft.

Ghast #2: Fallen 30 feet down the shaft (Taking 3d6 falling damage).

Husks: Occupying the front line.

The Rear Door: The door behind the party has creaked open further. A third Ghast, wearing the tattered remains of a Thothian Priest's robe, is standing in the threshold. It is not attacking yet; it is staring at Aele’s Heart-Seed Scarab with a look of starving recognition.

The battle rhythm tightens as the party faces a pincer attack. Dorn stands as an iron wall at the central shaft, while Cabe and Aele pivot to address the robed horror at the rear door.

Cabe sees the Ghast-Priest staring at Aele’s scarab. Knowing that undead focus is often the prelude to a powerful curse or a lethal pounce, he draws his bowstring to his ear. The Blood-Bond allows him to feel Aele’s intent to channel, so Cabe times his release to disrupt the creature first.

Action: Ranged Attack with Longbow.
Attack Roll: 19 + 6 = 25 to hit.
Damage: $1d8 + 1d6$ (Fire) + 2 (Red Frenzy/if active) = 13 Damage.
Result: The arrow thuds into the Ghast-Priest’s chest, the fire igniting 
the ancient, dry silk of its Thothian robes. The creature screeches, its 
focus on the scarab momentarily broken by the searing pain.

As the Ghast-Priest reels from Cabe’s arrow, Aele steps forward. He raises the Heart-Seed Scarab high, its amber light flaring into a blinding, solar brilliance that fills the vault. He speaks a word of Final Rest in the Old Thothian tongue.

Action: Turn Undead.
The Check: Aele rolls 1d20 + 7 (Wis/Prof) 
with Advantage (Scarab/Lore synergy).
Rolls: 15, 19. Result: 26.
Effect: The Ghast-Priest’s milky eyes widen 
in terror as the holy light of Thoth washes 
over it. It isn't just turned; it is physically 
repulsed. 

The ghast scrambles backward into the dark hallway beyond the door, clawing at the walls to escape the Magistrate’s light.

Dorn maintains his position at the lip of the shaft. Below, he can hear the second Ghast groaning as it tries to find purchase on the mechanical rails to climb back up. Above him, the three Feline Husks have finished shredding the first Ghast into necrotic confetti and are now crouched at the edge, their wooden heads tilting in unison as they look down the shaft, awaiting Dorn’s lead. He plants his +2 Shield and readies Swift. If any creature reaches the lip of the shaft, he will use his Great Strike to send them back down.

• Ghast #1: Destroyed.
• Ghast #2: 30 feet down the shaft, injured (15 HP remaining), attempting to climb.
• Ghast-Priest: Fleeing into the rear hallway (Turned for 1 minute).
• Goblins: Pips is cheering from the scroll racks. "Big-light! The Magistrate brings the big-light!"

Dorn points a gauntleted finger toward the dark opening. "Down! Finish it!"

The Feline Husks don't hesitate. Their wooden frames snap with the tension of released springs as they launch themselves into the circular shaft. The sound from below is a chaotic mixture of splintering wood, the wet tearing of necrotic flesh, and a final, gurgling screech that echoes up the stone walls before abruptly falling silent.

The Shaft is Secured A few moments later, the only sound coming from the sub-vault is the rhythmic click-clack of wooden claws on stone as the constructs begin to prowl the lower chamber, awaiting further orders. The immediate threat from below has been neutralized.

The Rear Hallway Aele’s holy light continues to pulse from the Heart-Seed Scarab, creating a zone of sanctuary. The Ghast-Priest is gone, fled deep into the darkness of the marbled halls, its cowardly shrieks fading into the distance.

Pips hops down from the scroll rack, his eyes wide. "The Big-Man commands the wooden cats! This is a good omen, yes! Very good!" He scurries over to the edge of the shaft and peers down. "The way is clear to the guts of the world now."

Dorn grips the Copper Trunk and the Sun-Pendant, giving them a sharp, practiced twist and lift. As the keys clear the floor-slot, the vault responds with a heavy, grinding groan. The Jade Elephant begins to slide back toward its original position with a slow, hydraulic inevitability, and the circular shaft in the floor starts to iris shut.

"The cats are on their own down there for a moment," Dorn grunts, stowing the heavy keys and tightening the grip on his shield. "But that priest is too dangerous to leave at our backs."

Aele and Cabe nod, the Blood-Bond thrumming with the adrenaline of the hunt. The party turns away from the treasures of the vault and sprints toward the rear door, stepping over the necrotic remains of the first Ghast.

The marbled hall beyond the door is cold and opulent, lined with white stone pillars that have been stained by centuries of damp. Aele’s Heart-Seed Scarab continues to pulse with the fading energy of the Turn Undead, illuminating the hallway in rhythmic bursts of amber light.

The Trail: The Ghast-Priest’s retreat was anything but subtle. Pale, putrid ichor from its arrow wound streaks the floor, and the sound of its frantic, wet clawing against the marble walls echoes from around a corner roughly sixty feet ahead.

The Environment: The hallway opens up into a larger gallery with separate doors leading to the left and right. The air here smells of stale incense and dry rot. Finally, the corner the ghast in a hall with rooms along its sides. Aele makes a mental note to investigate the 'Chamber of Transition' and the 'Vestry of the Unspoken'. These are liturgical terms, suggesting this area served as a preparation wing for high-ranking Thothian priests before they entered the presence of the "Elephant."

The Ghast-Priest, its back turned as it frantically claws at the bronze door, is a sitting duck for a warrior of Dorn's caliber. Dorn doesn't just run; he uses the momentum of his heavy plate, launching himself into the air ten feet from the target.

Attack Roll: 18 + 8  (Base/Str/Knack) + 1 (Comfort) = 27 to hit.
Damage: 1d8 + 8 (Str/Knack) = 16 Damage.

Dorn descends like an iron comet. Swift bites deep into the Ghast-Priest’s shoulder, cleaving through the desiccated muscle and bone down to the sternum. The force of the impact slams the creature against the bronze door with a metallic GONG.

The Ghast-Priest let out a final, rattling hiss as the magical edge of Swift—imbued with the light of the vault—severs its connection to the negative plane. The creature collapses into a heap of tattered silk and grey, crumbling flesh. It is truly destroyed.

Cabe skids to a halt, bow still half-drawn, checking the shadows of the "Vestry" and "Chamber" doors. "Cleanly done, Dorn. But look at the door..."

The Bronze Door & The Mystery

The door the Ghast-Priest was trying to open is slightly ajar now, forced by the impact of Dorn’s strike. Beyond it lies not a room, but a steep spiral staircase winding upward. Aele notices a distinct lack of dust on these stairs; something has been using this passage recently.

Dorn says, "All right. Let's go back and investigate those jars and scrolls, then we'll return here, investigate a couple of rooms that seem to have attracted Aele's interest. Finally, we'll investigate this spiral stairwell, which shows signs of recent use."

It is the fifteenth day since Dorn and Exie entered the tunnel known as Arden's Mouth and took it to a secret debouchment within the ruins of Arden Vul atop a 1,500 foot cliff overlooking Burdock's Valley. The party of three heroes are ensconced with the Thothian high priest, Thalas, in a strategy session.

"So, let me get this straight," Exie says, leaning over a battlemap and speaking to Thalas. "You fear that you have a Setite spy among your ranks, and so you have therefore kept this 'Heartstone Run' mission, as you call it, secret from others in the Enclave?"

"That is correct."

Dorn chimes in. "I see," he says, looking at the map. "And you expect an ambush here," he points a finger, "in the Hall of Pillars, which we must pass through to reach the Chamber of Rectitude. Any idea how large a force of cultists we may be facing?"

Thalas nods. "The Setites have been patrolling the westernmost halls for several weeks. Based on what we have observed, their patrols generally include a priest and three or four fighters. Any fighting will also draw the attention and the ire of the baboons, who lives in caves and ancient side chambers nearby. There is no telling how many of them might appear. But ... it will take them some time to get there."

"How do we get to the Chamber of Rectitude from the Hall of Pillars?" Aele asks. "I don't see any passages or doors marked on the map."

"There is a secret door on the west wall of the Hall of Pillars; you'll have to find it, but it's near the center of the west wall," Thalas says. "And the danger isn't that the Setite priests will already be there in the Chamber of Rectitude. Rather, they have a presence further west and south on this level from our own domain — but they are close — and most likely scrying on the Hall of Pillars to detect any activity there."

"All right," says Dorn. "Let's go with the assumption that we will be observed once we enter the Hall of Pillars, or even sooner. How much time do you think we'll have to find the secret door before a force of cultists arrive?"

"Maybe no more than a minute," Thalas answers. "A few seconds if you're unlucky, five ... ten minutes if you aren't."

Exie leans over the table, studying the map. "Is there any way to reach the Chamber of Rectitude without passing through the Hall of Pillars?"

"Not that I'm aware of," the high priest admits. "If there is a secret way, I'd sure like to know about it. In fact, it'd be worth another ... 300 imperials." Dorn's mind registers this: that'd be 3800 imperials!

"Okay," Dorn says, thinking strategically. "I'm a pretty good hand at finding traps and secret doors, and Exie is even better. One of us can focus on the western wall, seeking the secret door to the Chamber of Rectitude, while the other checks elsewhere for secret passages."

"No problem," says Exie. "I'll find the secret passage if there is one. But say we have bad luck, or underestimate the force that the cultists throw at us. Is there an escape route from the Hall of Pillars?"

"No," Thalas decides, "not unless there's a secret passage." He assesses the frowns on the heroes' faces. "Aele, I will teach you the ritual known as Thoth's Comfort. It will be a boon to your efforts, and a tool you will always have thenceforth. And, I will send Certracles, one of my temple guards, with you as an extra blade.

"We sure could use some healing potions," Exie says, looking pointedly at the high priest, while not mentioning that each of our three heroes currently has one such potion (1d8+1 restored).

Thalas grins. "I will have Setmose provide you a sealed letter that will authorize our quartermaster to release some potions. I'll also have him fit the two of you," he looks at Exie and Aele, "with bucklers, and he can find a hauberk for you, Aele."

"I am obliged," says Father Truemas.

Thalas nods. "When you have accessed the Chamber of Rectitude, you will see the great Carnelian stone on a pedestal in the center of the room." He hands Exie a purple sack. "This bag of coins has been carefully weighted to match that of the Stone. It is critical that you substitute the bag of coins immediately as you remove the Stone."

"Critical in what way?" Exie asks.

Thalas gazes at the petite fighter-thief for a few moments. "If you don't time it correctly, Bad Things Will Happen. To be honest, I don't remember the exact details. But Plutark was in charge of magical contingencies for that chamber, and he was always a thorough one."

"Was?" Aele queries.

The high priest nods. "Yes, he perished some years ago in a major confrontation between our forces and the Setite cultists. A very sad business, that."

"I don't know," Father Aele says, staring at his boots. He looks up, "Even with one of the Thothian warriors with us, we could still easily be outnumbered by Set cultists." The trio were conferring in a private chamber within the Thothian precinct of the third megadungeon level. It had been set aside for their use.

"And don't forget the baboons. Thalas said they're drawn to noise, so if combat ensues with cultists..." Exie adds.

Dorn queries, "But the baboons, aren't they the Thothians' pets?"

"Pets?" asks Aele, raising an eyebrow.

"Well ... guardian beasts," Dorn returns. "Won't they recognize you as a Thothian and then leave us alone?"

"Unfortunately, no," Aele answers. "There is a ritual that can be performed to bring them to heel, but in recent years as the Thothians have grown strong and confident in their holdings here, use of the ritual dropped off and the baboons were allowed to go feral."

"Well, that's not good," Dorn says, showing his mastery of the obvious. "But at least they'd pose a threat to the Set cultists too."

"Not necessarily," Aele counters. "The Setites could easily have some magical defense or way of controlling the creatures."

Exie intrudes, "Do the cultists actually have that kind of power? I thought the gods had fled Issenda centuries ago — except for Cromm, I mean."

Aele shakes his head, bemused. "Many of the things I thought I knew are being called into question. I've learned that Cromm, whom I have served for thirty years, is but an aspect of Thoth. Apparently, Set is alive and well, too. Were he not, the Thothians would already have crushed the cultists."

"Okay," Dorn decides. "The deck could be stacked against us, so we need to add a few cards of our own. Who fancies a jaunt to the Mushroom Caverns?"

The party has left the Thothian precinct on Level Three of Arden Vul behind and has angled a bit southeast through halls and passages, making for the great fungal forest.

Aele hands out small, thumb-sized silver ankhs in the likeness of a ibis. "Thalas' gift. No doubt he hopes to convert the two of you and induct you as acolytes. And although I figured that to be unlikely, they're made of silver, so..." *Each ankh is worth 5 golden imperials, on the Surface. "Keep them handy. The symbol of Thoth might avail us in various parts of Arden Vul."

As the trio leaves the immediate environs of the Thothian Enclave, they are forced to light a lantern due to the absence of burning torches in sconces. The area we'll be passing through on the way to the Fungal Forest is hotly contested. There's a three-way power struggle among the halflings, the beastmen, and what Thalas terms The Southern Transit."

"I thought the Thothian Enclave was the major power on this level," Exie says.

"They want to be," the priest agrees. "They could probably wipe out the halflings with a concerted effort, but the Set cultists and Deino's beastmen are altogether different."

"How so?" Dorn asks.

"The Beastmen claim the southern halls by ancestral right, the Halflings want to control the 'toll road' into the fungal forest to tax anyone passing through, and the Cult of Set views the entire level as their holy ground. Thalas tells me the Setites have a hidden temple somewhere on this level. Set's power must have waxed indeed if the Thothian High Priest cannot divine the location of the cult."

"You mentioned someone named Deino..." Dorn prompts.

Aele nods. "A powerful witch who is believed to have dwelt in Arden vul for more than thirteen decades. She rules the beastmen; some say she created them."

"They're not just native monsters?" Exie asks.

"Sources disagree," the priest explains, "but I remember reading in a history text a few years ago in Wynthia that an entire phalanx of imperial soldiers got trapped in Arden Vul when the old Archontean Occupation was being overthrown. Thalas says that those soldiers fell under the witch's power and that she transformed them into beast-men.

"Before we proceed further, let me enact a ritual." The priest pulls coins from a belt pouch: one golden imperial, one silver, and a copper piece. "This is called Thoth's Comfort." Holding the coins in his left hand, he deposits the copper piece into the upturned palm of his right hand, and intones, ""Thoth's most freely given gift, valued not nearly enough, is wisdom."

As his two companions watch, the copper piece dissolve into cupric ash in the priest's hand and blows away on an unseen, unfelt breeze. He then places the silver coin in his palm. "Thoth's eyes are upon his faithful. His words chime in their minds like the tinkling of silver bells." The silver piece undergoes the same transformation as did the copper.

Finally, Aele places the imperial gold coin in his right palm. "May Thoth bequeath the hidden knowledge to his servants. "O Logos En-Amenti, Thoth-Hermes, Psuche-Stratos—Vibrate the Hidden Key." The hair on the back of Dorn's neck stands up and Exie draws in her breath sharply. "Ah, you felt that, did you?" Aele asks. "The ritual is complete, and is hanging, requiring only a word or gesture from me to activate it."

"What happens when you do that?" Exie asks.

"When I trigger it, the three of us will draw Thoth's eye and blessing, briefly. We will gain in vitality, in enhanced puissance in defending ourselves, and will even enjoy somewhat enhanced resistance to harmful magics."

"Most impressive," Dorn comments. "Exie, scout ahead. We will wait here in the shadows for your return."

The woman is gone for five minutes, then ten. Then she is back, and reports, "there are some narrower passageways ahead. I thought I caught a glimpse of two figures wearing red robes. And there's a musky odor that intensies the further south you go."

Aele nods, "Beastmen. They're rank. The red-robed figures may have been Set cultists."

After a few seconds, Dorn says, "All right, light and vocal discipline here on in. Keep your eyes peeled." And the three set off southward.

Ask the Oracle Do we encounter foes before making it safely to the Mushroom Forest? Answer Yes, and** ... it's a sizable force.

---

Five minutes later, the party is ambushed. Thanks to Lexie's hissed warning, they aren't entirely surprised. Beastmen have surrounded the trio just as the three heroes have reached a four-way intersection of passages. Some of the beastmen carry lit torches. Dorn throws open the window on his own bullseye lantern. "Shit. There are a lot of them. No wonder it smells so rank."

Remember, our heroes benefitted from training during their recent Downtime and so have the following statistics (as Aele triggers the hanging ritual, each PC gets +1 to HP, AC, and Saves):

"Shinker's Scabies!" Exie curses, drawing her short sword. There are doors (see white rectangles on the battle map) along the hallway."

"Forget it," Aele cautions. They'll be traps in those rooms that they're hoping we'll flee headlong into."

"He's right," Dorn agrees. "Aele, stay out of direct melee as best you can, so that—"

—Dorn doesn't get to finish that thought before the nearest beast men charges and gores Exie with horns (8 damage, Exie drops to 12/20)

The lead goat-headed beastman to the northwest hurls a spear at Aele, but the priest bats it aside with his mace. Unfortunately, the spear's path is redirected straight into the left eye of Certracles, the Thothian temple fighter. He drops, stone cold dead.

And then the heroes' initiatives come up: Exie, Dorn, Aele — in that order. Exie whips a dagger from a leather sheath on her wrist and flings it all in one smooth motion (Fray die: 7 for 2-HD damage and the caprine is slain, a dagger in its eye). Eyeballs don't seem to be faring too well in this combat, so far.

Dorn takes a 5'-step and positions himself between Exie and the goat-headed beastman that is charging from the southeast. He waits one second, then almost a another full second, and then whips his serrated longsword upward in a sweeping arc, but the goatman blocks it with his shield.

Aele lobs a glob of eldritch fire at the beastman closing with him, but it manages to duck out of the way. The beastmen from the southwest and southeast passages time their approach, closing with Dorn simultaneously in order to flank him: the first scores a light hit (Dorn at 21/22) and the other misses.

Aele makes his non-Fray die attack with his mace but misses. Exie thrusts with her shortsword, but the distracting pain of her injuries makes her attack ineffectual. Dorn makes his non-Fray melee attack. No luck!

End of round. For the sake of clarity, I'll move the slain beastman to an unoccupied room even though it really lies at Exie's feet just northeast of her position.

Round 2: Exie has the best initiative, followed by Dorn, then Aele, then the beastmen.

Exie lashes out (Fray die) and injures her foe (beastman to NE of Exie has 1 HD remaining) and quaffs a healing potion with her regular action, regaining two hit points (now 14/20 Hp); Dorn lashes out (Fray die) injuring the beastman south of him, then pivots and overhand chops the head clean off of the beastman west of him and due south of the priest: "You're welcome!"

That's Dorn and Exie's round two actions. Aele summons a glob of holy fire and hurls it; it spatters against the beastman northwest of him, catching its fur afire and eliciting an animal cry of pain; then the priest follows up with an attack using his mace (sacrificing a Fortune Point to gain Advantage), and still manages to miss.

Now the beastmen continue to press the attack. Aele is assaulted from the northwest but the hauberk and buckler supplied by the Thothian Enclave saves him from harm. Exie likewise deflects the attack from her assailant. Dorn also escapes harm.

Round 3: Exie's Fray die slays another beastman, and she immediately draws her shortbow and fires off a quick shot to the northeast and misses. Dorn hits (1d8+5 yields 7, which converts to 2 HD damage: another is slain). Dorn has killed two foes in one round! Between his Fray die and hitting with his mace, Aele puts down the beastman that has been menacing him from the northwest.

Beastmen keep coming! The one attacking Aele misses. Exie narrowly avoids getting gored again, and Dorn gets attacked by two from opposite sides and somehow dodges one and parries the other! End of round three. Let's refresh the map:

Exie misses with her shortsword and is ineffectual with her Fray die. In contrast, Aele succeeds with both his Fray die and mace, killing another beastman. Dorn also slays another foe. A beastman attempts to head-butt Exie and she blocks with her shield. A beastman charges Dorn and he stops it with a perfectly timed kick that snaps its head back. End of round 4.

Round 5: the heroes all hit and injure another foe, and their foes all three fail to pierce the heroes' defenses.

Round 6: Exie slays another beastman and injures another. Dorn proves almost completely ineffectual this round, except for the saving grace that he avoids further injury.

Round 7: The heroes slay one more beastman apiece. These are the goat-headed. But down the hallways, the heroes catch a flickering glimpse, in the shadows, of a different kind of beastman. "Shit!" Exie cries, "they're softening us up for their elites!"

"Let them come," Dorn says equably, unperturbed.

Now the beastmen get their attacks: ha! The heroes defense is superb!

Let's refresh the map:

Aele's hauberk saves him from injury in round 7, because he sure as hell didn't get his shield up in time! He makes a mental note: practice with the shield. A larger, more powerful bovine beastman attacks Exie with a huge two-handed club. Exie narrowly avoids the club. Dorn is just showing off: he kills two caprine beastmen. Round 7 ends.

Round 8: Only a couple caprines left, but their more robust superiors are now closing in, and they are bigger, tougher. What's more, given their HD, the heroes' Fray dice cannot harm them. Here is where the battle grows even more serious, and our three heroes are all blooded already.

The bovine beastman takes out a chunk of limestone in the corridor but Exie successfully dodges. Exie ripostes and deals 2 HD damage. Dorn uses his Fray die and slays another caprine, then steps through and hacks at a bovine, inflicting 1 HD of injury. Aele uses his Fray die and slays an already injured caprine, then fumbles his mace as another caprine engages him. The caprine's attack gets blocked by Aele's shield. Exie takes 5 damage from a bovine, and Dorn holds his bovine at bay.

Round 9: Dorn takes a step northeast to close ranks with his friends. Exie almost connects with the injured bovine but it barely manages to evade her blade. Dorn fends off his foe's attack. Aele slays the last caprine with his Fray die, then he steps northeast and attacks the injured bovine beastman that has been menacing Exie. A hit! Aele slays it.

And with that, the remaining beastmen must check morale. They need to roll 9 or less on 2d6 or else choose to withdraw/flee. Roll result: 3; they continue fighting!

Let's update the map, then we'll begin round 10.

Round 10: Exie misses, Dorn too. Aele steps and attacks a bovine beastman and misses. Exie gets nailed for 6 damage and has 3 remaining hit points! Dorn evades his foe's attack, and Aele takes a hit and drops to 12/17 hp. Aele uses a Surge and Exie is healed of 3 damage (rises to 6/20). Exie quaffs a potion and regains a further 5 (rises to 11/20).

Round 11: The remaining foes are heartened when none of the heroes land a blow. However, witnessing Exie go from 'barely hanging on' to 'in fair shape' is disconcerting. They make another morale check: 2d6 result: 3. The fight continues!

Again, all three heroes miss! Exie gets hit and drops to 9 hp. Dorn gets hit for 4 and drops to 17/22. Aele gets hit for 4 and drops to 8 hp. Tough round for the heroes! It would seem the beastmen strategy is working: throw cannon fodder at these new interlopers, then finish them off once they've been tenderized.

The feline beastmen has slinked in and rakes Exie for 1 point, dropping her to 8 hp. She takes her remaining healing potion and only regains 2 hp (now at 10). Aele regains 4 (back to 16/17).

Round 12: Exie attacks the bovine NW of her. Misses. Dorn attacks the bovine beastman SW of him. Misses! Aele burns a Surge, sending holy fire into the beastman to the southeast. His Fray does another 1 HD of damage. The bovine has 1/4 HD remaining. Exie gets hit by a bovine for 4 (drops her to 6/20). She takes 8 more from the feline beastman, killing her! Dorn gets hit by one of two bovines attacking him, taking 7 and dropping to 14/22. Fortunately, Aele is getting better with that shield. He blocks an attack.

Round 13: Exie is dead. Aele misses with his mace but slays his foe with holy fire. Dorn begins to make an attack, having resigned himself to death but believing at least that it will result in reunification with Exodore — but his foe backs away. From another quarter Dorn and Aele hear the feline beastman roar, and then all of the remaining beastmen are withdrawing. New ... creatures have arrived, 7 feet tall myconids, looking like nothing so much as bipedal, humanoid mushroom-men!

Dorn detects an odor of spices laid atop vegetative rot. His sword falls from his grasp and he turns his head with great effort to check on Aele. The priest has already dropped, overcome. Dorn unwillingly follows suit.

It has been three hours since Dorn and Exie encountered Jorun Fielenghast and Vida Moinder in a large cavern of stalactites and stalagmites. Father Aele 'Zorvin' Truemas — a long-term friend of Dorn's — has stayed with them. They have eaten and are continuing to pass among themselves a two-quart wineskin. It is mostly now empty and has gone a long way toward easing tension, loosening tongues, and creating seeming warmth in the cool environs of the Deep Down.

Exie Swift has built a small fire with the limited fuel she carries. "That's it. That's all the kindling I brought with me. So enjoy the fire while you can. It may be a long time before we enjoy another."

"It's chilly," Father Zorvin Truemas acknowledges. "But at least it's not likely to get any colder: down here we'll not be subjected to the snowstorms that will soon plague the Exarchate." He warms his hands before the flames, and asks, "How well are we provisioned?"

Dorn grunts. "Well, we now have two bullseye lanterns. The one we brought with us is half-empty." Dorn has trimmed that lantern to a very low flame, given the illumination from the fire. "The other lantern is about three fourths full. And between the oil we brought and what you carried with you," he says to the priest, "we've enough to refuel each lantern three more times."

---

Lantern Fuel: Usage die d12

---

"We have two pounds of jerky, three pounds of cheese, and a dozen hard biscuits. That won't last the three of us long," Dorn says, then drinks again from the wineskin.

"Yeah, sorry. I just didn't think to pack more provisions," Zorvin says.

"It's okay," Exie shrugs. "Mobility is our first priority, so we can't be laden down. There's food to be had. Sometimes it can be hard to find, and sometimes when you do find it you have to take it away from someone ... or something..."

Dorn nods. "There just wasn't time and opportunity to plan this out better, else I'd have stashed us a cache or two of supplies in some of the side tunnels we've passed. I spent some time down here about eight years ago, just before I joined the Blackfists. If I remember right, another half hour walking will bring us out into an immense cavern that contains a giant pyramid."

"I'm glad you know a little about the place. I don't know squat about it," Exie admits.

Zorvin accepts the wineskin from the young woman and thinks for a moment after savoring another swallow. "I've not been down here before myself, but I have treated adventurers who have been here, over the years. Two main differences here in the Deep Down: the Lost Races are here, and magic is alive here."

"Lost races?" Exie clearly is intrigued.

Dorn nods, "When The Disaster happened, untold generations ago, magic on the surface was suppressed; at least, in Arandia it was. I don't know about the other continents. Something else happened, but nobody really knows exactly when. It may have been right at the time of the Great Disaster, or a good while later."

Father Zorvin takes up the tale, "Right. What we're pretty sure about is that many centuries ago, either as part of the Great Disaster or maybe a completely separate, unrelated event, something killed off the demi-races, those that were on the Surface, you understand? Halflings, aelves, dwarves."

"I've never met a halfling," Exie says. "Or an aelf or dwarf."

"The aelves may be extinct," Dorn said. "There's been no sightings for centuries. Or, some may have survived underground. The Glittering Canopy in the far northern Arandian forest known as Greatmoss is deserted. There are thousands of aelven skeletons. I saw parts of it as a recruit under Captain Ruven. Eery as fuck. I'm not superstitious, but I swear the place is haunted."

"Interesting," says Zorvin. "I never knew you'd been that far north."

"But magic isn't totally dead, right?" says Exie. "I mean, you can still heal people," she directs at Zorvin.

"Well, that's not magic, that's faith. Magic is a ... a force that some lucky few are able to wield as a tool — a very powerful tool. What the Church clergy are able to do is by the will of Cromm, who Sees All."

"Did the other gods die out, like the demi races?" Exie asks before tipping up and emptying the last of the wineskin into her mouth.

"Nobody knows." Zorvin leans closer to the fire, which is beginning to burn lower. "Cromm must know, but he is silent on this, and always has been. In fact, he gets downright cross when asked about it, according to the Book of the White in Karstbridge Cathedral."

Dorn finishes repacking his pack, adding, "If we survive long enough down here, we may learn some answers to at least some of these questions. Let's move on, now that we've eaten. Be on the lookout for any creatures, and be on guard. But remember, not everything down here has to be a foe. Some are just trying to survive and bothering nobody. Let's befriend them, when we can."

Exie nods in agreement, adding, "And kill the rest."

---

A few minutes later, the trio is another quarter mile down the Gullet, and perhaps four miles from Arden's Mouth, when there is a loud but distant rumble. All three freeze in midstride, regarding one another uncertainly.

"Probably falling rock," Dorn opines. "Sure hope it hasn't cut off our route downward." Exie shivers and adjusts the short bow on her back.

Lantern usage check on d12 (a 1-2 results in a reduction): 10. A die gets added to the Danger Pool. Danger Counter at 1.

After a thirty-count with no further rumbling noises, Dorn quietly says, "Let's continue. Take vanguard, Exie. You're the quietest."

---

Twenty minutes later the trio pauses at the opening to a large cavern. After listening silently for a full two minutes, Dorn speaks quietly, his words clear given the acoustics. "I'm going to turn up the lantern now and open the shutter. I want you to see what is in this cavern and listen very closely, because our lives depend on it."

Add a die to the Danger Pool. Danger Counter is now at two. Rolled a 1 on Lantern Usage. Die drops from d12 to d10.

"You see those stalagmites?" Dorn says, after sliding open the shutter on his lantern. "See how large they are in comparison to the stalactites hanging down from the ceiling? That's because they aren't stalagmites at all. They're monsters."

"And you know this, how?" asks Exie.

Dorn chuckles. "I'm forty years old, and I've only been in the Blackfists for the last eight years. Before that, I was an ... explorer. This is a location I explored about fifteen years back."

Aele Zhorvin add, "What he means is, he was smuggling goods through here from Prelm to Gosterwick."

"I never said I was only exploring," Dorn retorts. "These are 'ropers'. It is thought they are a side effect of The Disaster — one of many. If you look closely, you'll see what look like vines growing up around them. They're not vines, they're tentacles. And they are sticky as tripled tar. Aele, do you have a sharp blade?"

"Yes, of course." The priest-mage produces a belt knife.

Exie snorts, hands Aele an axe after untying it from her backpack. "Here, use this if it's needed."

"Needed? Surely we aren't going in there?"

Dorn looks at the other two. "When I was here years ago, there was a very narrow, unmarked safe passage through them. The problem is, it's been a long time. I believe they're taller than I recall, and that means their tentacles might be longer. I will try to thread through them. If I get entangled, I'm counting on you two cutting me free."

"Without getting entangled ourselves," Exie adds. "Nothing simpler."

"Are they vulnerable to fire?" the priest-mage asks.

"Good thinking," Dorn says. "Yes, highly vulnerable." He nods approval as Aele retrieves flammable oil flasks from his pack. "Just don't use them if you don't have to," Dorn adds. "I'm vulnerable to fire, too."

This calls for a good dose of luck, but also it's important to see if Dorn's memory is accurate. Let's make an Intelligence check against his INT 10: result is 11. That's a failure, meaning there is a 1 in 12 chance he remembers the safe path through the ropers wrongly. I rule that there's also a 1 in 12 chance the monsters tentacles have grown longer (they're abberant rock elementals, so growth is slow). So, d12 roll and let's hope to avoid a 1 or 2: result is 1. Shit! We'll sacrifice one of Dorn's Fortune Points to re-roll: result is 10. Whew! And Dorn's Fortune Points are 2 of 3 until after a long rest.

"I'll go next." Exie lights a torch. "Ae—" She catches herself as she's about to use his intimate name. That'd be okay for Dorn to do that, but she's just met the priest-mage. "Zhorvin, if this goes bad, you bust a flask of oil on me and the roper."

"You could burn to death!" the older man says, shocked. "Surely there's—"

"You're a priest of Cromm. Heal me. Besides, you've got healing potions, surely?"

"Three, only three." He sighs, nods his agreement. "I'll stand ready with the flasks." As long as Exie doesn't get a Critical Failure (a 20) on a Dexterity check: result is a 19 (that was close), but Exie makes it through. Aele is clearly unnerved as he watches the tentacles strain to reach the young woman ... and then she's through, safely, and snuffs out her torch, stepping closer to Dorn and the light of his lantern.

"Cromm, preserve your servant," Aele prays. Dex check result: 18 — not a Critical Failure. a tentacle makes contact with the mantle of his robe, and he lurches onward, tearing it and leaving a strip of cloth with the creature. "Whew!" he says, joining the two fighter-thieves.

"All right, good," Dorn assesses. "Just a short distance ahead, the tunnel forks. Going left leads to an underground lake, from which there is no known outlet — which isn't to say there isn't one someone underwater. We're going to take the right tunnel. It angles upward for three miles and exits atop the cliff of Arden Vul, fifteen hundred feet above Burdock's Valley. With any luck, we'll camp under the open stars tonight and then continue our journey tomorrow."