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."