Session #8, as told by Inez

 Session #8 as told by Inez 

Dear diary, this was an exhausting and confusing day, and I end it here sitting next to a skeleton, probably once belonging to a human. Wearing what I wear now, I prefer sitting next to it, as it does not have eyes to watch or a tongue to tease. Let me tell you how this came to be..

Last night I slept terribly or rather not at all. If having your nose cracked and nearly drowning in a pool of acid was not enough, then try adding a halfling man and a spellbook literally messing with your head. All of that did not help me to get to sleep. 

The halfling man did not like our new connection either and both of us tried to stop sending and receiving  messages telepathically, not wanting to leak or learn secrets of each other. Meanwhile my head filled up with magic knowledge, as the spellbook that I had bought from Finn in Nook, forced its content upon me. Where at first the scribblings were hardly readable, let alone understandable, the symbols and letters now lit up and rearranged themselves on the pages. At moments where my mind had filled and I just could not cope and closed my eyes, the book seemed to whisper in my ears or even bite in my fingers! Dear diary, I’m so happy that you are behaving like a normal book!

In the small room where we were now camping, it was impossible to get out of one's way, Finn and I positioned ourselves at the far corners. Poor Jonathan felt things were not right, but could not get his fingers on it. He tried to make conversation, where Finn and I did not want to talk at all. In the hope to normalize the mood, we discussed the scar that had formed on Jonathan ‘s wrist, the only reminder of his fall in the acid. To him, the leaf-like discoloration was a mark of Chislev’s blessing. And Finn, a prophet of the nature god who had saved him, her fateful druid. And me as a bonus while she was at it. Now I was worrying more and more how I was ever to make a safe return to wherever, Jonathan was convinced that Chislev was guiding us in the right direction!

As we decided it was morning, or at least time to stop pretending that we were sleeping, we got up, picked up our things and placed them in our backpacks. In my case everything had to go on my back, my lack of clothing meant there was no hiding of items in handy places. The cloak that I was so lucky to find amongst my travelers equipment, did have a lot, but no pouches. And underneath I was wearing really not much, not much at all. So I laced the mantle as tightly as possible and prayed to Azuth to protect me, his faithful daughter, to spare me from further indignities. 

Moments later, we found ourselves standing before the big door we so manifestly had missed when we entered this room. Examining it closely, a green radiance was clearly visible in the seams and joints of it, not by any means the inviting glow of a Gnomish garden party at the Nook Residence of the Shadowbrook family. So I concentrated and recalled with the help of my spellbook the words, searching for traces of magic manipulations and constructs. Strangely, the door itself was clean, but in the rooms behind and above us, I could see a deep red gloom of strong magic. Just as I wanted to tell this, Finn had already done so, as my knowledge and fear of this magic had been transferred into his mind instantly. The rogue clearly was troubled by my conjuring, caused by the energies of the spell made their way into his brain. 

By now Jonathan became aware of the connection between Finn and me. Looking at the both of us, he grabbed our shoulders, and orated : “Maybe this is Chislev’s way of teaching you to listen, to the world and above all to each other!” Rolling my eyes at him I told him: “I thought Chislev is the goddess of nature and change, not matchmaking!”; and stepped back a bit, leaving the halflings with the door and a task. 

Biting his amulet Finn regained himself a bit and started searching the doorway for traps and other pitfalls. None found he then began working on the lock. Like my arcane actions had found a way into his consciousness, so were his musings about lockpicking meandering into mine. At some point he started gesturing that Jonathan and I should help push the door, but it was to no avail. So I sat down, considering casting a helper, when the two halflings a sudden managed to open it. With the resonance of the clacks and clinks from the old mechanism triggering after probably years, entered a wave of rogue pride in my brain; likewise a cloud of green steam entered the room!

Behind the door laid a stair leading downwards into a room where green clouds were hiding any indications of floor and walls. Pointing my hand to direct arcane energies I could sense a glowing rectangle far in front of us, and I warned my companions. Nonetheless, there was no other route to go then forward. Jonathan dropped a small stone, and it took just a small moment to hear it reaching ground. This good sign gave us enough courage to continue. Cautiously we made it to the end of the stairs. As our rearguard Jonathan stepped from the last step upon the large tile Finn and I were standing on, a loud click could be heard and the stone seemed to sink a little. The three of us looked at one another then we all tried to jump back onto the stairs. To no avail, as another click was heard followed by a blinding flash of light. And we found us in another room, landing awkwardly as if we were transferred in mid flight.

The room looked familiar, after a brief inspection we deduced that it was the one next to the chamber with the moving hidden door that had made such an impression on me and my nose. Luckily not lasting, dear diary! It was somewhat brighter than the others, illuminated by both green lichen and bright green murals. Each mural covered a part of a wall and the five pictures together seemed to tell a story. Or even issue a warning!. According to Jonathan, creatures celebrating Chislev suggested that we naturally were on the right track. Finn was not too sure about both these opinions, but could not make more sense out of the images either. Me, I copied them onto parchment and then studied them, with even less success than my companions. Don’t mock me, dear diary!

Halfway along the inner wall, a lever was sticking from the floor. Walking up to it, while Jonathan and Finn were trying to get a peek out of the windows in the outer wall,  it became clear that this was a gnomish device. Its overall shape was that of a snake with a top hat, its casting decorated flourishly with brass owls and bats. Not to mention a number of ratchets and rotary knobs visible and the total lack of runes. It reminded me of home and I almost felt proud when I touched it, dusting it off to reveal its bright colors. Having learned from our previous adventures (Don’t laugh, dear diary.) I informed and requested permission of the two halfling men to operate it. 

Finn was looking worrisome, but that had become his normal expression, and asked if I knew what I was doing. “Oh, forgive us Gnomes for inventing things that actually work. Allow me to show you how real engineering performs.” That way, assuring him and Jonathan that this was gnomish technology so there was nothing to worry about, I styled my hair improvisationally, tightened the laces on my cloak (One can never be too careful, dear diary) and pushed the lever into the opposite position. 

With a loud click, much louder than all the clicks before that day, activating a device that now propelled a piece of the outer wall outwards, creating both a passage down in the floor and one through the wall itself. When Jonathan inspected the chasm in the floor, a squeaky noise indicated that this construction was far from stable, and he jumped back to a tile near the inner wall and me. “Can you do that again, now while pressing the big button on top?” He requested joyfully, having regained his lust for adventure. ‘By all means, watch this piece of art.’ I answered, moving the lever back to its previous position while pushing down the top button, shaped like a shining sun. Several clicks could be heard, then another piece of wall started to move, widening the hole in the floor and revealing another passage to the outside. 

Concurrently, the gnomish machinery had widened the chasm in such a way, that we now had just a single tile edge left to stand on. Consequently some halfling complaints about gnomish inventions and machineries could be heard. Yet this fell silent fast, as from out of the hole high pitched screams could be heard! “A squeak best cure is a louder squeak”; my mother would have said.

One way or another I was calm and confident, waving away Finn’s gesticulations and hissing to close down the hole and put the wall back in place. For the first time in my life I was allowed to pilot a true gnomish machine! At home, my parents or someone from the staff would have taken the toy away. Perhaps both my parents and Finn had a point, which was well underlined when a creature was flying in from out of the divide, landing in front of me! (Dear Diary, I could hear the voice of Doctor Vexora in my head: “My favorite student is once more thinking and dreaming instead of paying attention? A dreamfox will guide you, a real one will bite you!”).

Never had I seen one in real life before, and they were not supposed to fly, still I recognized the varmint immediately as a goblin. It looked exactly like how grown up gnomes would dress up at Misthallow: Green skin, warts and terrible teeth under red furious eyes, an outfit that made my companions look fashionable (I know, I know, not very nice of me, dear diary) holding a strange looking staff with a moon symbol on top. That I really got to admire up close, when it hit me hard on the shoulder!

Pain was all I could think of and I staggered backwards, leaning against the wall. Blindly I throwed one of my knives at my attacker, missing it completely! Luckily, Finn rushed in to support me. His first strike was a curious miss, but then his streetfighting experience showed, backstabbing my assailant to death in a furious attack. Followed up by a lightning fast move towards a second goblin that had set its target upon Jonathan. Almost effortlessly the creature's throat was cut through, sending it back into the hole it came from! Almost making me afraid of the rogue halfing, dear diary!

The sight of their fallen comrade silenced the ones down below for a while. Giving us some time to recover and run through our options. The hit I took was hurting badly, nevertheless I had to endure it as Jonathan’s magic failed this time. Don’t know if that had anything to do with my knife that he was presenting in his hand. Evidently I had hit him, instead of the goblin, luckily not that hard. Reddening I excused myself, finally finding a use for my dwarven etiquette lessons (My parents never knew that High keeper Ironmantle also covered battlefield courtesy in his lessons, dear diary.). My halfling companion just got confused by all my bowing and palaver, just tapping my nose to let me know that he was fine. Which by some means made my blush even deeper. Luckily our state of affairs allowed me to break off our  conversation.

Despite the pain, I promised myself I would not go down this time! The goblin that attacked me was still lying on our floor level, and I sensed sorcery radiating from items upon the body and from that too familiar staff. As I pointed this out, Finn immediately probed the corpus delicti, stripping it from its armour while doing so. It turned out to be a female goblin! 

For a few seconds that realization had me musing; this one looked all of a sudden so near or even friendly. What if I had been born a goblin, dear diary? Then I thought of what my father would say: “The only article dwarfs and gnomes agree on: ‘In war, the only crime is losing’." 

At the same time Finn was presenting the goods he found on the body. Her armour was not useful for a wizard like me and did not fit Jonathan, even after some adjustments. But an additional defense to unwelcome peeks was welcome,  therefore I started stripping the underwear from the dead goblin. And though not very stylish, the basic set of loincloth and chest binding was more or less rightly sized and free of pests (or so I hoped). (Well yes, quite critical coming from a thief, thank you, dear diary.) Then putting it all on under time stress, as from the hole in the floor once more the sounds of approaching goblins could be heard! And without revealing too much to halfling glances, and goblin arrows for that matter. 

For all that my two companions seemed to be more interested in the treasures of the goblin. And I could sense it when Finn’s rogue instinct took over when he slipped her coins away into his own pocket. And through our mindlink I made him aware that I knew, approving and mocking him that way. Perhaps I could get used to this, dear diary?

Turning round to have a look at the treasures myself, I was just in time to stop Finn from throwing three pouches with pebbles away. “Check the mural on the far side, I think we can buy a treasure with these stones!’ I whispered in his ear. Enough of an argument to hand them over to me. And more spoils were coming my way, because the men were only interested in the goblin weaponry. The booklet with moon symbols drawn upon it as well as two rather beautiful in their malice, moon-shaped amulets, were mine to keep. And as I for sure wanted these to keep, all went into my backpack. Sometimes it takes a lot of pain to get some gains, dear diary!

Once more I had been distracted too long, from the distance screams and high pitched voices could be heard. The goblins were making a comeback, out for revenge. “We should leave via the other opening”; I shouted to my companions. Thinking fast I took the lever in both hands and moved it back to its starting position. At least that’s what I tried, and also what I in the end achieved, but the trajectory and positions the lever and my hands went through was, how shall I put it, complicated. 

As Finn and Jonathan watched in horror, the walls and floor followed more or less the dance that the lever and I performed, and both men had to jump for their life to not fall in the amplifying cavity. Just after the movement of walls and floor came to an end with a last click, leaving a pool like room with just one row of tiles on each side, and I was considering if I should plead guilty or not guilty, another goblin was launched into the room. And from the noises below it was clear more were on their way.

Finn and the goblin were locked in combat on the side where an opening to a lower part of the maze was still visible. With our way out blocked for now and no means to help Finn as Jonathan and I were on the edge opposed to the melee, I grabbed the spellbook. Touching it, magic energy streamed through my fingers and it seemed to purr like a cat. Words came to my brain swimmingly, without me truly reading them. 

Like a steam machine the pressure built up, at one point some of it leaking away to Finn, what was happening? Regaining control, I felt a bulb of vigor captured in my hands. Converting it to a ball of acid floating in my hands, aiming it, then propelling it with a refined gesture into the hole. (I admit once more, dear diary, that my magic skills and levels or arrogance could become a problem.) 

A feeling of complacency came over me, casting spells like I was a true wizard. Breathing in deeply, then looking around, I found Finn had made short work of the goblin, and Jonathan was safe on the far side. As there were still command-like shrieks coming from below, I launched more acid portions in the direction of the sounds, until nothing came from below anymore. 

A calm came over the room. Jonathan and I could jump over the chasm with the help of Finn, who was already on the correct side. Correct as: on the side where gnomish machinery and intelligence had created a safe passage downwards. Only a small, not that difficult climb and we would be safe. So, after the two halflings had climbed down, I took the staff of the goblin and started my descent. And here, dear diary, my hubris was punished. Somehow I slipped, lost my grip, and plummeted down, bouncing over boulders and rocks. 

Probably Garl Glittergold was looking at me and decided to bless me with a lesson full of poetic justice. Holding tight to the gnome moonstick, my cloak got stuck, and ended bungling from an old beam, sticking out of an old wall. Myself, I ended up in front of two halfling men, just wearing the goblin underwear (Which I was even more grateful for, dear diary!). With a sore behind I had to endure the corked up laughter of Finn and Jonathan. The latter ‘gracefully’ offered to heal my bum, the first informed if it was my plan to escape by seducing the Goblin King. 

So that’s why, dear diary, I’m sitting here a bit apart from my companions, next to a more harmless, quiet type. Too tired to try to read the spellbook, or even the goblin book. Still a bit proud of myself, and of our teamwork (which is a first). And also feeling a bit modest, having learned my lesson (Stop laughing, dear diary, on whose side are you anyway?). And building the courage to stand up and face my halfling friends wearing, well, something so small that still succeeds in being so unstylish. Perhaps a little bit later then.