7. The floating dwarf

T.M.O.L.: Campaign Notes: Chapter 8

The night is clear and cold, and a thick mist hangs in the valley until the first rays of the sun clear it away. Tamar says that she heard some large animals moving around during the night but whatever it was did not approach the camp. After some breakfast and morning preparations, the whole group makes their way to through the cold hallways to the Hall of Music.

The portion of the hallway with the grooves in the floor has several new additions. There are several fist-sized rocks scattered around, and some new burn marks on the floor near the start of the grooves. "I am sorry, my friends, but I have not been able to find a way to disarm the trap. I considered trying to counter the magic, but without the key to its pattern there would be no use. It is quite possible that such information still remains inside, waiting to be discovered."

Krolmar gives Fredrik a distrusting frown, and a slight inner growl escapes his lips as he clenches his jaw. He cannot believe that Fredick is being so aloof so he waits for the Wizard to play out his game. After all he knows how to cross safely aswell.

Brashak looks at Krolmar. "So, what was that about walking instead of jumping you mentioned yesterday?"

"I would like your opinion on that dwarf in the chair, Sole," says the elven Wizard. "After you," he adds with a bow and a smile.

Sole glances at the Wizard then turns his attention back to the corridor, "What was that about walking and not jumping Krolmar?"

"You or me Fredrik? Either way, you know which way I am going to cross. Time to prove your loyalty to the party whole. There has been a few too many unnecessay deaths this expedition already. If I go first, everybody's trust in you is going to falter, and we know what distrust bought you last time. . ." Krolmar's voice trails off with a sneer.

Sole turns back to the Fredrik, "Maybe you should go first since I have never done this before. You wouldn't want me to accidently fry myself, would you?"

Fredrik draws himself up to his full height and starts to rant in his clipped precise voice. "What is your problem, Sole? Last night Krolmar told you how I had discovered the way to cross safely, yet you accuse me of unfaithfulness and disloyalty. I told the truth when I said that I had not disarmed it, for reasons which I explained to you all. Never have I been disloyal towards any of you. On the first trip, you distrusted me right from the start, and insisted that I risk myself to open the trapped door. You insisted that I cross this corridor first, after Tamar, and now you insist that I cross first again. How much do I have to do to prove myself to you? I did not have to invite you along. I found the map, I found the kaer, I levitated you all up the cliff, I discovered ways to bypass the traps, and I willingly shared the treasure with you all equally. All that you have done is pick up it off the ground and then accuse me of trying to take more than my fair share. To tell the truth I am sick of your accusations."

Krolmar chuckles to himself, finally seeing the Wizard a little rattled pleases him. He licks his tusks and says, "Now Fredrik, I, or shall I say we, did tell everybody last night that we had found a way around the trap, but we never told them how to go about it. Where the sense of loyalty and distrust has been found is when you expected him to go first without explaining how to get around the trap, knowing that he knew there was an alternate route."

Sole nods in agreement, "I would be happy to go first if you would explain exactly what it is that I have to do."

"It is also true that you may never have lied, but the whole truth was never told either. We all have our secrets to bear, myself included." Krolmar turns his focus to Sole, "And you Sole, Horror Stalker come Nethermancer, almost a master of secrets and self disguise." Krolmar turns his focus back to the Wizard, "Yes Fredrik you did find the map, the kaer, you can levitate us up the cliff, you took your share of the treasure, and I believe I have never occused you of not taking your deserved share."

Krolmar gives a smug grin. "By the way, did you buy another Last Chance salve?" he taunts. Fredrik ignores the question.

Krolmar walks forward, "I will assume the honours shall I." The ork takes a step along the line towards the first chalk mark, as he walks from mark to mark he says, "Take note Sole, you walk directly from one mark to the next. Don't deviate. . . . Come Fredrik, you next, let them see it done twice. There is then no excuse for error when they cross."

Fredrik turns on his heel and follows the path across the Hall of Music. When he reaches the other side he walks straight past Krolmar and continues on across the boards over the spikes and out of sight.

"Sole, Tamar, Brashak, and Sarn, lets go," Krolmar says as he motions them to cross also.

Brashak sighs and shakes his head. "I can't wait for this to be over."

Sarn looks around suspiciously, and says that he will bring up the rear so that he can work out exactly where to step. Each of the adventurers follows Krolmar's example and crosses the hall without incident. Sarn tests the old boards over the spikes before he crosses, but he decides that if it can hold the weight of a troll then it should be able to support his somewhat lesser weight.

By the time that the rest of the group has made their way across the creaking boards and past the strange tubular weapon in the short corridor, they find Fredrik inspecting the murals on the walls of the room with the floating dwarf. Sole looking around with great interest, taking in the new surroundings. Sarn also looks around with wonder, considering how he can best put his experiences here to use to fulfil his future goals. Fredrik makes a point of ignoring the others as Sole heads over to the floating dwarf to investgate it further.

The ornate chair floats a hand's breadth off the floor, above the centre of circular etchings carved into the floor. Around the circular etchings dozens of carved candle holders contain the remains of long burned out candles. The outer perimeter of the etchings is marked with incense pots. Directly in front of the chair, outside the etched circles, stands a stone pillar with a bowl of water on top. A spherical rock floats less than a finger's width above the surface of the water.

"That looks the same as the one in that first room," comments Sarn, pointing at the pillar with the bowl.

"Didn't they use devices like this to determine the end of the Scourge? I think they're supposed to measure the level of magic in the world," Brashak says. "Maybe it's somehow linked to whatever enchantment is holding the dwarf. Maybe the spell was designed to release him once the magic reached a safe level."

Sole stands in front of the lifeless figure and closes his eyes. He concentrates first on the teachings of the Horror Stalker discipline and reaches out with tendrils of magic to search for the telltale signs of Horror influence. He senses nothing, and turns his attention to search for the presence of spirits instead. Again he senses nothing. The Horror Stalker opens his eyes, but he does not see any of the features of the dwarf, or the open book in his lap, or the staff in his hand. Instead he sees the intricacies of the dwarf's pattern, the magic of the water and the rock, the swirling dome of energy which surrounds the dwarf, and the power contained within the staff.

The dwarf appears to be dead, but neither his physical body nor his pattern show signs of decay. His pattern is somewhat masked by a sort of shadow, but Sole decides that from the complexity of his pattern he could not be an Adept. His pattern is quite complex and parts of it contain some resemblance to the patterns of magicians. Some of his equipment also has true patterns, notably his earrings and the amulet around his neck. Further study does not reveal anything more before Sole's vision returns to the physical realm.

"Let's try to push the stone into the water," Brashak suggests.

The troll steps up to the short pillar and bends down to push the floating stone into the water. Fredrik turns around to watch with interest, but Sarn sidles backwards towards the short corridor. Sole, hearing the troll's suggestion, spins around. "Not yet Brashak. I have not completed my study and there is no telling what that might do."

Brashak shrugs, then stands back against the wall, arms crossed across his chest, watching Sole examining the circle. The Nethermancer turns back and begins to walk around the protective dome, studying it from all sides. He is unable to discern anything special from his talents in analysing evidence. "What do you think of it Fredrik?" the human asks.

"I think that Brashak has a good idea," replies the elf. "Go ahead and push it."

"I have been able to determine that the dome, staff, bowl and rock are all magical. Though I won't win any prizes for that." Sole grins. "The interesting thing is that dwarf doesn't appear to be an adept but has parts to his pattern that are similar to magicians. Almost as if he is in some way half adept." Sole pauses in thought, and then continues, "Or it might just be some magical effect that directly effects his pattern."

Krolmar scratches his head, "Dome?"

"Unfortunately I have no idea about the dome, except that it exists. A good thing however is that I have detected no sense of Horror taint, so hopefully we will not have to deal with any horror powers or traps."

The ork looks towards Brashak, Tamar and Sarn. "The wizard and the wacko are seeing a dome. I see no dome." He stands and draws his sword. Approaching the dwarf he says, "Where is this dome, I don't see it. . ." Krolmar moves his sword towards the dwarf, poking the stone-like armour.

"See? There is no dome, spell wackos." Krolmar says in disgust. "Come on Brashak let's look at the ork half of the kaer."

Sole rolls his eyes. Will orks never learn, he thinks to himself. "It's magic," Brashak says with another shrug, making no indication to move.

Tamar heads over to the short pillar and peers at the water and the floating rock. "Go ahead and push it," instructs Fredrik. She puts her hands on top of the rock and pushes it down. There is a slight resistance to the pressure from Tamar's hands, but she easily pushes the spherical rock down onto the surface of the water.

Nothing happens. The rock floats back into place above the bowl, leaving ripples reflecting back and forth across the surface of the water. Tamar looks around in disappointment at the apparent lack of results, till she sees Brashak staring straight ahead in amazement. She follows his gaze to the dwarf on the floating throne.

The lifeless dwarf's eyes blink rapidly, creating little puffs of dust. Slowly his head turns to one side to stare at Fredrik, and then at Brashak. Sarn levels Vasagh's crossbow in one hand and creeps the other hand towards his quiver. Brashak's eyes narrow as he reaches for his battle axe, watching the dwarf intently. As the dwarf begins to move Sole is rooted to the spot, amazed at what he is seeing. Quickly gathering his wits the Nethermancer once again shifts his sight into the astral realm, attempting to study the suddenly life-like corpse. The dwarf's pattern looks the same as before, except that the strange shadow is gone.

One of the dwarf's fingers twitches, and then he slowly uncurls each of his fingers as life comes back into them. His mouth opens a crack, and his first breath blows a cloud of dust off of his bottom lip. In a rasping voice which would be too soft to be heard if the room were not so deathly quiet the dwarf says in old Throalic, "I thank thee, whoever thou art."

"It was no problem," replies Fredrik as he steps forward. "I am Fredrik, and these are my companions. Who are you, if I may ask?"

The large open tome on the dwarf's legs rocks slightly as he flexes the muscles in his legs. He looks at Fredrik and rasps the word, "Mansfield."

I thought so, thinks Sole. Stepping foward the Nethermancer unslings his canteen from his belt and hands it to Mansfield. "Welcome to post-Scourge Barsaive."

Walking down the corridor Krolmar pauses as he hears the word 'Mansfield'. He redraws his sword and rests it on his shoulder. Turning to make is way back to the group he pauses in the shadows to observe what will happen next. He thinks to himself: Mansfield -- Slayer of Orks.

Sole shakes his head and says in amazement, "I'm sure you have a long story to tell but maybe we could get you somewhere comfortable first."

"Regretfully I shant be travelling far for the moment. If thou shalt give me another sip of water, I shall explain myself."

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