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Zahra
Zahra nods her thanks to Torix, and gives him an unexpected smile. When the group reaches the shattered doors, she'll look over the wreckage. Is this fresh, or do the pieces have dust & cobwebs?

Cruloc

"Crom hears us, thief. But he answers through rockfalls which splinter trees, booms of thunder in snowbound valleys, and the teeth of savage beasts. His voice is far away now, but he watches. He desires that I kill and conquer, or die in the attempt. Either outcome is acceptable to him."

Kiri turns his gaze from the stygian depths of the stairwell, his face betraying no emotion.

"There may be hidden treasures on this level we have not yet discovered," he says, patting the pouch with the gems and platinum they found. "Perhaps more warrriors, too. And a giant lizard. Let's leave none behind us."

Grigor

"So are we going down the stairs or going back over the rope bridge and the ruins above or back to the circular room?"

He is a bit confused about the sudden call to rest.

Dahinna

"The dead aren't resting, why should we?" the rogue asks, feeling some better after Cruloc's administrations

Cruloc

"I am with Kiri, and I refuse to descend further without rest. Let us go back and explore to the east. Any who attempt the stairway now do so without my sword."

With Dahinna's permission, Torix applies forest hunter's medicine to the wounds. The bodies, he murmurs. Maybe the big lizard took them. He nods to Kiri. Treasure is good. "If you don't need it, you give it to someone who needs it. To Cruloc, Cimmerian, you aren't the warband chief. He glowers steadily at the enemy of the Picts for a long moment. But my say is also we rest. But here, not going back to the circle room. Heal, become strong, and find treasure. Only my one's say. The savage holds his bow in his left hand with a nocked arrow pressed by a thumb. In his right, a torch held aloft. He steps back to guard position, scanning forward and back.

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Eleven. Late Morning. 21st day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia







The seekers of the treasures and mysteries of lost Thracia halt at the ominous depths before them.

They confer in hushed whispers to forge consensus on their next move.


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Zahra
Zahra has been running on adrenaline, and hadn't noticed exactly how wounded she was. Now that others have mentioned it, it comes back to the front of her attention. She sags a bit, not standing as tall as she usually does. We must rest. I am wounded, and our wise ones have used up their power.

Amethu will concede to resting even though the day is still early. "There is one benefit in an early rest and that is that recovery and subsequent use of healing charms would be limited. In other words, we would start the new day fresh with minimal prayers used up. Do we have a quiet and defensible position to use?"

He think too that it would some additional time to spend studying the new book he recently acquired.

Dahinna

Not being a "front line" person, Dahinna will defer to the wisdom of the warriors.

Cruloc

Cruloc binds the wound of the man-mountain from the East. His eyes do not divert from his work, for he is disquieted by the thought that Grandfather may be watching.

“Thank you, Cruloc,” says Kiri, once the first aid is applied. He wonders briefly what the stinging substance is that warrior is rubbing into his wounds, then, being a practical man, decides he doesn’t care; it works.

He notices Cruloc’s almost pathological focus on his task as he works in tense silence. Most likely he is worried about Grandfather’s continued absence, afraid it bodes ill, he thinks.

“He’ll be back,” he says, clapping the man on the shoulder.

“Whatever we do, I do not feel we should do it at the top of this ominous stair,” he says to the party, “Let us make our way back toward the bridge and decide when we are there.”

Grigor

Agrees with Kiri. He leashes Gnasher, a short rein so he can sniff about as dogs do and maybe bark an alert should he scent creatures in the dark.

"To the double doors then".

Amethu nods. He'll sweep his lantern south in the bat room so that the full measure of the area can be known.

The Caverns of Thracia, Pictland, the World of Hyboria
Day Eleven. Late Morning. 21st day of the month of Qrot, 1280th year of the Age of Aquilonia





The raiders of time beyond imagining retreat from the foreboding stairwell that descends into the fathomless depths of the mysterious Underworld.

They retrace their path through the great sundered door and Zahra's pale eyes note its damage is fresh.

Cruloc and Torix bandage the wounds of Dahinna and Kiri (+1hp each), and then they cross the stone bridge of the ancients, high above the towering abyss. (24)




They brave the swirling bat swarm at the defiled altar platform. (23)








There, Amethu directs his lantern southward into the bottomless chasm.





They emerge into the bloodstained hall of scarred pillars...





...tread past the desecrated temple of Thanatos (20) ...





...and through the open doors to the east, passing abruptly from a soaring, peerless colonnade into a reeking natural cave. (21) It had been the kennel of the Thracians' domesticated wolves. All that remains now are empty chains, gnawed bones, and the grisly corpses of a litter of massacred pups.


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Dahinna

The Zamoran rogue wipes the sweat from her forehead and the palms of her hands. "Mitra's teats, how I hate this hellhole," she hisses, trying to calm her nerves. Without really thinking about it, she sheathes her sword and reaches behind her, feeling for Iago's hand...but it is Grigor's she mistakenly grasps. She turns and lets go of her fellow Zamoran, blushing profusely. "S-sorry, I-I forgot..." she bites off her words, closes her eyes, and turns back around toward the kennel and the carnage within.

Gnasher whines at the mutilated pups.

Grigor "that wasn't my hand"

Stinking cave. I expected more. Little interest in poking bones. Certainly not a place to rest up.

Cruloc

The Cimmerian recoils involuntarily at the touch of the outsized Kambujan. He has seen firsthand the abominable voodooism which has erupted from Kiri's fingertips. The wound dressed, he moves away, respectfully avoiding direct eye contact with the bizarre Easterner. How did he know I was thinking of his Grandfather? Flummoxed, Cruloc determines to hereafter keep his mind as empty as possible.

Cautiously, he investigates the carcasses of the massacred pups. Dagger at the ready for close quarters combat, he examines their fatal wounds. What ended their lives prematurely?

Zahra
Zahra wrinkles her nose at the stench. It is interesting to me that we keep finding evidence of someone else- someone who might be an ally-, or at least have common cause with us.