Ring 3, 6099 RTR (30 Sep 1999) Willow journeys to Snicjer Hill in search of answers.
(Nordika) (Willow) (X)
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Snicjer Hill
This forested hill has a bald crest, from which can be seen a view of Castle Diamante across the valley, and spreading fields and farmlands within the valley and beyond. Further into the trees, there is a vine-covered stone blocky statue, remotely resembling a Skreek holding a tablet up to its chest.

A small party of adventurers makes its way up the hill, coming to the clearing. Among them is a green-garbed Cervani Huntsman, armed with a double crossbow and bolts tipped with iron. There are also two cheetahs … and a Skreek.

"I'm thinking that if we dig near the statue, we'll find something unless there's a hole leading inside." The gray Skreek grips her staff: a long piece of silverbirch with bits of metal (several bits of it corroded) hammered into either end of the staff, as well as other little bits attached here and there as well. It makes the walking stick look oddly decorative, or tacky – however you want to look at it.

The Huntsman nods, and looks around warily, following his gaze with the front of his crossbow.

Testament-Blaze continually signs prayers to the Star for protection.

Burr just looks about, his hands curled into fists, ready to pound something if it presents itself.

Willow's ears twitch, "Burr, start digging. The Huntsman and I will keep watch. Supposedly these things will go after us, except this time I'm slightly better prepared."

Burr bows his head, and takes up a chitin shovel with a sturdy handle, and starts digging in front of the statue.

The Huntsman inquires, "What might we be looking for?"

The Skreek moves to stand on one side of the cheetah, her gaze dropping to the ground. "An entrance. Nene thought that there might be an entrance to the underground around here… and I get the feeling that she died because someone didn't want her to find it. So either we don't find anything and I turn out to just be extremely paranoid, or we do find something and finish Nene's work." Her ears twitch, focusing on the noises of the forest.

The leaves of the trees around the clearing rustle … though there's no breeze felt within the clearing.

The Huntsman closes his eyes, and scans the trees with his crossbow.

Willow does likewise, gripping her staff. "Burr, keep your eyes focused on the hole, no matter what you hear. Unless I order you to grab me and run, then I don't want you to do much as look up past your feet."

Burr nods and keeps digging. Scuff, scuff, scuff, scuff.

"Snicjer," hisses a voice from the trees. "Moltpaa. Kroz."

( Patient… like a blind old wolf. Just keep talking and let me know exactly where you are. ) The Skreek focuses on the noise. Her grip on the staff tightens while her eyes remain closed.

"Snicjer," repeats the voice. "Moltpaa. Die, Child of Kroz!" More scuffling and rustling … and Willow's keen ears pick up footsteps coming toward her, scraping through the grass.

The sound of a crossbow being fired can be heard … but it sounds like it's being targeted in a direction other than toward Willow's "friend".

"And why would you want to kill me, spirit? How do you even know I am from Kroz?" she chitters back in Krozite. The Skreek draws her staff back, waiting for the sound to get within striking range. Her ears flick forward while her nose sniffs the air.

"Curse you, Spawn of Bosch!" cries the spirit creature, as it leaps toward Willow. "Curse you for killing me!"

The Skreek jumps to the side in case her swing misses; meanwhile she swings her staff into the path of the snicjer, hoping to cause a bit of extra damage by taking advantage of the momentum of her attacker.

"DIEEEEE – " Skreeks the voice, until it's cut off by Willow's swing. There's a sickening splat, as the spirit-thing explodes in a burst of black ichor.

The Skreek's ears flick back as she checks on the sound of Burr's progress with the digging. "If I'd ever killed anything that looked like you, I'd know it. And someone that looks like you has some nerve calling ME a spawn of Bosch." Willow spits on the ground and waits for the next attack.

There's a long silence, broken by the sound of the Huntsman reloading his crossbow. He must have fired both bolts at some point, though Willow was understandably distracted.

The rustling leaves grow quiet, the whispers dying away.

The Huntsman says, "If one of their number is defeated, they run away … for a time. I don't generally hang around to find out how long it is until they regain their courage."

"Got one." Willow creaks open an eye and looks down at the spot where the snicjer went down.

The grass is stained black, but the mark is slowly dissolving into a grayish mist that rises and slowly dissipates.

The Huntsman looks as well. "Impressive. I think I fired too soon." He walks over to a tree to retrieve one of his bolts imbedded in the bark.

"Thanks. I got some help from a story that I hope to fires never gets read to any pup I know of." She keeps her ears perked at the forest while walking over to check on the cheetah's digging. "You can look up now, Burr."

Burr looks up. He's made a mark in the ground, but he hasn't hit paydirt just yet.

The Huntsman asks, "Do you have a notion of exactly where to dig? We might be here for a while."

Willow gives the cheetah a bop on the back of the head. "I didn't say you could stop… er… " She taps her foot, "Well, I read something about there being tunnels under the statues. Maybe we could try to move the statue instead of digging in front of it?"

"Possibly," replies the Huntsman. "We'd have to take a bit of work to remove the remaining vines. Hmm. Funny. The Skreek is beast-legged. Like the Himarians."

The Skreek eyes the statue. "I hadn't noticed that. Is that unusual for these marker statues?" She waves the other two cheetahs over. "Start ripping the plants loose, and try digging around the base. It might make it easier to move that way."

"I haven't actually seen one up close like this before," answers the Huntsman.

Burr abandons his shovel, and Testament-Blaze breaks off from sprinkling some water. (It looks like he was sprinkling it roughly in a circle around the immediate site.) They start pulling vines off of the statue. Burr proves to be far more efficient at this.

"Here's an odd question," Willow chitters as she cuts away some of the vines. "Have you ever gotten a good enough image of the snicjers to know if they have 'beast legs' or not?" She looks sidelong at the two cheetahs. "Er… no offense."

Testament-Blaze's ears wiggle, but he keeps his hands at work pulling vines.

The Huntsman shakes his head. "No. The only time you can really see them is when they pretty much have you down and nearly out. Before that point, you can't really see them, except in the corner of your eye … and that precludes being able to pick out details."

Nodding, Willow steps back a bit to let the larger cheetah do some work. He has two good arms to work with, after all. "I read that the Snicjers might have been Skreeks at one time – something about King Moltpaa adopting some to make them end up killing their own kin, but this fellow is built a bit differently. Of course a bit of flux can change anyone here and there." She shrugs.

Some more vines snap. Burr starts shoving on the statue. It's not moving.

"I suppose," agrees the Huntsman, as he watches Burr's efforts.

"Try digging out the base." Willow offers, taking a shovel herself.

Burr nods, and goes back to digging about the base. Testament-Blaze joins in, while the Huntsman keeps overwatch with his crossbow.

The Skreek focuses on her digging, although her ears remain pricked to the noises of the forest. ( They may come back if they don't want us poking around here. )

Chitin shovels scrape against stone, occasionally cracking off little pieces of shell at the tips. It looks like the stone goes down quite a distance … as if this Skreek statue is in fact the top of some sort of buried column.

"Feh." Willow frowns, kicking off some dirt from the base to see if there might be any writing on the stone. "I'm beginning to wonder if this underground empire wasn't underground at all at one point, although how a whole layer of earth ended up on top of it is beyond me."

Willow's boot scuffs against the stone, knocking a few clods of dirt loose, but it doesn't reveal anything particularly interesting. Just more stone, and a few squirming worms and bugs that scurry and wiggle away.

"Keep digging a bit more. I'd like to find out if this is just a tall statue or if it actually is a column." The Skreek kneels down and sniffs at the dirt, testing it for the dank clammy smell of a cave, while she watches the progress of the two cheetahs.

The dirt smells, well, dirt-like. Nothing particularly special. And given that Willow has gone a long time without the use of her nose, she hasn't that much in recent memory to compare it to for certain. The cheetahs, meanwhile, keep digging. Some of the earth shifts around a bit, as the soil here is loose, not hard-packed, and what isn't held in place by grass roots tumbles into the widening hole dug around the statue base.

Willow looks up at the statue. "Well, whatever it is you were hiding or guarding, you're doing a remarkable job of it." She looks over at the Huntsman, "Do you know where it was that Nene was found? I'd been told that it wasn't this exact spot."

"She was found in the clearing," answers the Huntsman, pointing toward the crest of the hill. "The same clearing I found you in."

As Willow looks up at the statue, some of the earth under her feet shifts a bit, making her lose her balance momentarily.

"I see… so… WOAH!" The Skreek stumbles a bit. "Hey guys, hold off and stand back." She pulls a rope out and backs away, looking to see whether the dirt is settling into the hole or draining down somewhere.

The dirt is pouring into the hole … but it isn't filling up quite the way it ought to be. In fact … the earth is feeling a bit less than stable right now, and the dirt is starting to shift more quickly.

The Huntsman looks down. "Uh oh … Cave-in!"

Willow whistles sharply and waves her hand back. "Get back! I've already broken enough bones from falling, and I don't want to break any more!" She starts to back away from the hole herself.

Everyone clears back … as the earth starts sinking here and there. Yes, there's definitely something unstable here. The trees, thank goodness, appear to be staying right where they are, for the time being.

The stone statue stands in place, though the collapsing earth shows more and more just how deep its anchor is.

It also reveals, after a bit … stone steps attached to the column, forming a square spiral that leads down into the widening pit.

The Skreek rubs her chin, an eyebrow arching at the staircase. "Well well well… As soon as this hole settles down, it looks like we've got something to explore after all." She grins at the Skreek statue. "My apologies for insulting you, kind sir."

There appears to be a lip of rocks that forms the edge of the formed pit, some of them part of a natural rock shelf, some of them part of artificial reinforcements. A stone shelf forms a bridge on one side, making a walkway over to the stone marker.

Testament-Blaze digs through a pack, and produces a lantern, some oil, and a few pieces of wood and cloth that should suffice as torches.

Willow accepts a torch and carefully makes her way across the stone bridge. "Sir Huntsman, would you like to accompany us downwards? And Burr, find something to bonk things with. There might be critters in there that won't vanish when you look at them, but they might be just as dangerous as the snicjers."

The Huntsman nods. "This won't be my natural element … but I doubt that any of us can claim that. I will accompany you." He takes up another torch, though he'll have to drop it if he has to fire at anything with his crossbow.

Testament-Blaze lights the lantern, keeping the other torches handy. Burr makes do with a large sturdy shovel as a potential bludgeoning device (and tool!) for the time being.

"You've still got a good shooting eye, and sharp ears. Just be wary of bone birds and Gorts." The Skreek swallows and starts to descend the stairs.

"Grooks," the Huntsman says. "The 'bone birds' are grooks. And let's hope the gorts leave us alone."

The adventurers make their way carefully down the stone stairs, occasionally having to pause to clear a bit of dirt or some other debris off of the steps, rather than to risk pitching off the edge and falling head-long into the cavern revealed by the pit.

Beneath the stone shelf, this staircase slowly widens out in its downward spiral, forming a tall "pyramid", almost, rising up from the floor of a large and presumably natural cavern chamber. It's moist down here, and some of the stone steps are a bit too damp to be safe to travel lightly.

Though the lighting isn't all that great, and the lantern and torches only do so well, what with all the shadows, Willow can pick out stalactites hanging down from the ceiling, and stalagmites rising upward. There is also some moving water below, and it looks like the water has eroded away at the stone staircase toward the bottom.

"Unless there's a hot spring or a lava vein in here, we should be left alone by the gorts." The Skreek squints her eyes. "Is there anything we can anchor a rope onto here? It looks to be slippery near the bottom, and we might not be able to get back up."

The Huntsman says, "So far as I know, there aren't any mineral pools or fire-pits in this area. That's more toward the east, and closer to the border with Bosch." He looks around.

As Willow searches around for somewhere to anchor a rope … a few prospects pop up. Proving something about the age of the stalagmites, perhaps, some of them have developed to a point where they run into and even partially cover parts of the bottom of the staircase column. Some of the rising points might possibly give purchase to a looped rope.

There are some glittery-looking mounds of accumulated minerals, and through some gaps, one can see running water trickling through, or sliding over the broader surfaces. It's not a river by any means … just trickles here and there that can make the going treacherous if one isn't careful.

The Skreek looks for a sturdy enough looking stalagmite and carefully loops a rope around it. "Well, Nene thought that this might lead to Moltpaa's throne room, so let's get down there and see if there's anything interesting." She gives the rope a couple of tugs and then starts to slowly shimmy down it the rest of the way.

Testament-Blaze holds the lantern out as the others scale down. Willow, naturally, reaches the floor first. It's cold and damp down here, and one must be careful about where one steps … but a bit of searching around, and Willow spots some stone tiles that form a slightly broken walkway, worse for the wear, but still serviceable to traverse the chamber.

"There a path!" Willow grins and stands slightly under the rope to lend a hand (just one – the other one's in a sling, after all) as her other three companions make their way down.

Testament-Blaze at last lowers the lantern to the floor, after pulling up the rope and tying the end to a loop, and carefully working it down to the bottom. Once that's done, he comes down as well, and takes up the lantern again … leaving the rope where it is, for the time being.

The Huntsman nods. "You've got good eyes." He looks about. "Looks natural for the most part. Though these formations could have grown over whatever the Moltpaa built down here."

Willow kneels down and examines one of the tiles. "I just hope to find something – some little thing that might explain all this a bit better. Kind Moltpaa can keep his scruddy gold."

The Huntsman says, "I've always had the feeling that there wasn't all that much gold down here. Maybe it's just the cynic in me. Or else it's just that there are far too many legends that describe every lost kingdom as being practically coated in gold and jewels. Everyone who's no longer around is filthy rich." He winks.

The Skreek pulls herself up and brushes dust from her pants, "Nothing wrong with being a cynic, nothing at all." She flicks a hand over her shoulder and starts to follow the path. "Watch where you step. It's slippery here and there."

The foursome makes its way along the irregular path, which bridges the cavern chamber for the most part. It reaches the cavern wall, which glitters as if made from a myriad of tiny gems in the light of the torches and lantern. Where the tiles end, there is a large double stone door, surrounded by a frame formed by Skreek forms standing as if holding the doors up. The Skreeks are undeniably digitigrade, and built far more like oversized rats of the mundane variety, than the plantigrade Krozite variety (or like Willow). The keystone is marked with a Skreek face that looks directly out from the block, though the nose is chipped off at the tip.

The stone doors are covered with runes that look to be in better condition than those of the statue at the surface. There are also some designs of rats and strange symbols.

Squinting, Willow holds up her torch to try and read the writing and study the images a bit better. "It's a scruddy good thing I thought to learn Krozite… "

"Interesting. I figured it wasn't a very common language outside of Kroz," answers the Huntsman. "And … well … Morning-Mist told me your story, of course. But I doubt you had time to be given a crash course in the language as a child."

"It's not that different from common Skreek, and I learned whatever language I could pick up to impress my cap back when I was a slobbery little muddlehead," Willow replies, sneezing a few traces of dust from her nose.

To paraphrase the inscription, it basically identifies whatever lies beyond this door as "Vrixt, Capitol City of the Western Kingdom of Moltpaa." There's also what looks like a map of Kroz … though it's superimposed with lines that might well represent major tunnels cutting across the country. The map is divided into three sections … but it's stylized, so there's not really much detail to glean from it. It, after all, appears to have been reduced to the status of a symbol rather than a true map.

"Give it a push, gentlemen… and stay wary in case the door decides to fall on our heads." Willow adjusts her load and steps back a little bit.

Burr gives it all he's got … and so do the others. With a good deal of creaking, lots of dirt being knocked loose, and a few bits of mineral growth shattering on either side, the door slowly creeps open.

Unable to do much in the way of pushing without risking causing more damage to her arm (She'd managed to get a local Life Mage to speed up the healing, but although no longer in a cast it's still in a sling and still very fragile.) Willow opts to stand in front of the door, carefully peering around it to see what lies beyond.

"Grokk! Grak! Grook! Grook!" Strange scrawking and twittering noises emit from the dark hall beyond the doors.

Willow's ears flatten as she squints through the doorway, trying to make out how many creatures like beyond either by sight or sound. "You may have to close them again… "

"How?" asks the Huntsman. "There are no handles! Oh … I think I hear something."

Willow's ears must be better than the Cervani's.

Lantern light glints off of shiny bone … bone that moves. It looks as if there might be four of the creatures, shuffling and wiggling their bony heads around, flailing flimsy-looking limbs.

"I hear lots of somethings. Burr, get your shovel ready! There's four grooks coming this way." Willow lets her torch drop to the floor while she readies her staff.

The Huntsman readies his crossbow, and fires at one of the grooks … The bolt just sticks somewhere in the bony growths that form the grook's body, not really doing a thing to it.

One of the grooks gallops toward Willow, gnashing what passes for bony "teeth" (or tusks).

"I've another shovel; you're going to have to whack it, Test… Take cover!" The Skreek swings at the beast's head with her staff, hoping that if she can break that part the rest of the animated pile of bones might follow.

Whoosh Unfortunately, these bony creatures aren't slow shamblers, but are fairly spry as they bound about. On the flip side, they aren't master warriors, as the grook's attempt to bite at Willow's arm only catches air.

Burr, however, gets in a lucky downward punch, compressing a grook's head down into what passes for its spine. Bone splinters fly about and bounce off of the floor.

Another one of the beasts plows into Testament-Blaze, knocking him to the ground.

The fourth tries to slash at the Huntsman … but misses. The Huntsman, still holding the crossbow, fires another bolt vainly into the creature's bony body … then kicks it away with a hoof.

Chittering angrily, Willow swings a second time at the creature before it can attack her again. "BURR! Help Testy!"

Willow's blow this time hits the beast square on its tusked "beak" … and the head spins around several times. This seems to disorient the creature, as its head is now on backwards.

Testament-Blaze flails about, and it looks like the grook is going to deal him some hurtfulness … but Burr grabs the monster and picks it up, flinging it across the chamber. The grook lands on a stalagmite, hooking itself on the spike, then flails about, quite stuck.

The Huntsman grabs up a shovel and swings at the fourth grook … but his hooves slip on the slick tiles, and he ends up falling on his side, catching himself just in time with one hand. The grook, attacks again, but misses.

The Skreek wastes no time taking advantage of the Grook's disorientation and slams her staff downwards on the beast as she tries to shatter it before it can right its head.

CRUNCH The grook is soon reduced to twitching bony parts.

The Huntsman, meanwhile, appears to have the last grook in a headlock, using his legs. Burr heads over to deal with the flailing creature.

The Skreek gives the bones a good kick to scatter them, before leaping over to give the larger cheetah a hand. "Are you all right Pri – er, sir Huntsman?"

Between the three of them (and Testament-Blaze stumbles to his feet behind them), the grook is soon reduced to scattered pieces. "I'll be fine, thank you," responds the Huntsman. "I just have to be more careful where I step. My hooves don't offer much traction on slick floors."

"Nothing broken?" Willow looks over to the priest. "What about you? Any scratches?"

Testament-Blaze signs, "A few bruises. Burr spared me any worse."

Nodding, the Skreek pokes her head back through the doorway as she checks for any other surprises lurking around. "You might want to smash that fellow that's caught on the rock before he gets lose and warns any of his friends."

The Huntsman nods. "Ah. Good point. I didn't notice him. Burr … Good fellow, think you could do the honors with a well-aimed rock?"

Burr bows, then grabs a rock and hurls it at the pinned grook.

He misses. But he gets it the second time around. Crunch No more grooks.

The hallway beyond the doorway appears to be empty. It's just a long corridor. The stone walls and floor are evidently cut, not natural, and the mineral-growths haven't gotten in here much. There are arrow slits in the walls … but no signs of anyone readying weapons behind them.

"I knew I kept you around for something besides doing laundry." Willow grins, and then sobers a bit as she peers through the door. Her gaze drops to the tiled floor and just for precaution's sake, she picks up a couple of rocks and tosses them down the hall in case there might be any traps.

*clack* *rattlerattle* *phoot* *phoot* Something small darts across the chamber from the arrow slits, as if projectiles were fired from them.

"Figures." Willow rubs her nose as she examines the arrow slits, trying to determine if it might be possible to crawl below them.

Yes, the arrow slits are about the right size to hit anyone taller than a normal-sized Skreek … which would include most of the sapient races (aside from Skeeks).

The Skreek waves over her shoulder. "Stay down and you should be all right. Huntsman, Burr… you might have to crawl through." She carefully ducks down and starts to crawl through the hallway herself, as her odd legs make her slightly taller than the average Skreek after all.

Here and there, a tile gives slightly under Willow's weight … but half of the time, the arrow slits don't discharge a dart regardless. Eventually, the whole group makes it down the tunnel, and reach another doorway, this one fashioned in such a way that it resembles a stylized rat head, with the doorway being fit into an elongated mouth.

"I don't even want to think about where the exit door i – nevermind." Willow suddenly remembers that she's in the company of nobility and not a bunch of dirt-talking airshipmen. "There might be more grooks, so be careful." She carefully pulls herself up and tries to open the door.

As Willow works on the door … it splits in the middle, horizontally divided, and part rises up, while the other rises down, with only a bit of muscle-work to get it going. There must be a counter-weight involved somewhere.

The Skreek pauses at the door, her ears perked for noises while her nose sniffs at the air. She also waits to see if the door remains open, or if it suddenly decides to snap shut like the teeth it apparently is meant to represent…

Yes, the Skreek's nose picks up a faint scent of … gas.

Not natural gas. That would have no smell. But it's flammable. Willow's had enough experience with airships to catch whiffs of the more volatile stuff.

"Oh SCRUD! Back off! This things going to spout fire at us!" She drops back to her hands and knees and scrabbles for the exit door.

The group hastily retreats … and just in time. As they shoot back out the door, a ball of flame rips through the corridor, quickly heating up the air and evaporating a good amount of the dew collected on the stone near the entrance. Just as quickly, though, it plays itself out … and while there's a bit of smoke and steam still lingering in the air, the fire is gone.

Curiously, perhaps, there is some light now coming from the mouth of the rat door down the corridor.

Swallowing hard, Willow peers back down the corridor at the stone rat's mouth.

Through the mouth can be seen a cut stone chamber that is lit in a golden glow.

"I think it's all right now, but stay alert just in case." The Skreek sniffs at the air again to see if the smell of gas has gotten any stronger or weaker before trying to crawl down the tunnel again.

The smell of the gas has been eradicated from the chamber, replaced with a lingering smell of smoke. Willow gets a few ashes on her clothes, as she crawls through the remains of the grooks' lair in the arrow-slit corridor.

The rat bites her lip a little and makes a point of getting her clothing washed as soon as she gets out of here. She carefully works her way up to the Skreek's mouth and tries to find the source of the glow beyond it.

The source of the glow appears to come from several nooks lined about the corridor, each of which has a low-burning flame in it. At the opposite end of the corridor is yet another Skreek-head doorway. It looks like it works the same way as the first.

Testament-Blaze shuffles in with the lantern, followed by the Huntsman. Burr takes up the rear, ready with his shovel.

Licking her lips nervously, Willow tosses another rock into the new hallway as she eyes the slots on the wall.

The rock clatters across the floor. No tiles depress. Nothing explodes. Nothing happens. Yet.

"Stay below the slots on the walls just in case. I'd rather not get baked to a crisp." The gray rat drops to her hands and knees and clambers towards the next door.

Yes, it looks like the other door has the same sort of top and bottom "teeth" arrangement as the previous one.

Willow should be able to stand up again without putting herself to be lined up with any of the flaming nooks on the walls.

Very carefully, Willow reaches out and pulls the door open, trying to jam herself out of the path of anything that might fire out of the door as it opens.

It takes a bit of muscle-work, as before … but the door creaks open. Air rushes into the chamber for a moment, causing the flames in the nooks to stir … and Willow's nose is met with a stale scent.

Her paranoia at full, Willow hesitantly peers through the door to see what lies beyond.

As Willow peers through, she sees yet another stone chamber … where the stones are moving.

There's a bit of shifting, as the room widens slightly … and then it stops. It's a square stone room with runes on the walls.

Hesitantly, Willow motions for the three to follow her as she steps into the room. She holds her torch out and squints at the writing.

As Willow steps forward … the stones start shifting. She manages to catch "Vrixt, Capitol of the Western Kingdom of Moltpaa, sealed against the evils of the Boschian Overlord. May the tortured souls of the victims of Kroz be never disturbed."

The floor seems to be a little bit unstable. That must be what is shifting. Across the room is a slightly raised dais.

Above the dais are two imprints in the walls, shaped like the hands of a Skreek.

Willow carefully lowers herself down as she studies the stones on the floor, trying to judge which stones are stable or if there's any kind of pattern to their movement, or writing on the stones at her feet themselves.

It appears that the floor of the room is divided into several bands that cut laterally across the room, divided into even segments, leading like steps over to the dais at the far end.

The Skreek holds up one hand, indicating for her companions to wait, as she hesitantly starts to move towards the dais.

The stonework beneath the Skreeks' feet shifts a bit … Perhaps it's the sign of some sort of clever stone mechanism, like the weighted doors, but which hasn't fared quite as well over the years. Nonetheless, the floor doesn't drop out, and Willow makes it safely to the dais.

Swallowing, Willow places her torch down and winces as she carefully takes her wounded arm out of the sling. "I'm going to see what happens when I put my hands in the indentations. Be ready for anything, folks."

Burr nods and readies his shovel. The Huntsman checks his crossbow. Testament-Blaze starts praying.

Her warning given, the Skreek reaches out with her hands and places them into the imprints on the wall.

It feels as if the stone segments of the imprints are separate from the stone around them. There's a slight give, as if the hand imprints could be pushed.

Swallowing, Willow pushes in on the stones.

The stone hand shapes slowly press in … and there is a creaking noise from behind the stone walls. The floor begins to shake … and then the segments slam downward, filling the chamber with a loud crash repeated several times over. Thankfully, everyone else is clear … and the stone dais is descending as well, but more slowly, as the walls pull away.

Stone cracks … and one of the steps breaks in half. One of the moving walls shatters as well. This ancient machinery isn't holding up the best … but as it's opening up, the floor has turned into a stairway leading down to the floor of a larger cavern.

Willow winces as she carefully folds her arm back into the sling. "Looks like we found something! Let's go!" ( Boschian overlord… spawn of Bosch… I wonder if there's explanations for that around here.) She peers down the steps into the chamber below.

The group carefully makes its way down the steps … some of the stone pieces breaking away under pressure, but prompting no spills or accidents for the explorers.

As they head into the cavern beyond, however, the full magnitude of its size becomes evident. It's not a uniformly open area … but part of a very wide network of natural tunnels … large enough to house a small city.

And ahead, at the center of this subterranean city, is what looks like a temple or palace in the center of it, with crumbling stone steps that lead up to its long-forgotten sanctum.

"Amazing. And here I thought we'd end up in some musty old throne room with snicjers dancing about." Willow leans on her staff as she carefully makes her way towards the central building.

There's a flicker of moment in the corner of Willow's eye … but it's soon gone. Something seems different about it – as if it ran away, rather than coming to attack like in the forest.

The Skreek motions over her shoulder. "Come on. I don't want to stay here too long. Things might start to get unpleasant." She hastens her step, taking a few sniffs of the air here and keeping her ears perked for noises.

As Willow makes it up the steps, she reaches the large stone doors. At a touch … they swing inward, admitting the explorers into a large audience hall, with numerous tunnels taking off left and right. Most of them, however, look to be made for persons the height of Skreeks … and some stooping would be involved to follow them (or crawling, in the case of Burr).

Bits of armor lie on the ground, amidst bits of debris and dust. At the far end of the audience hall is a stone throne … and on it are piled bits of tarnished ornamentation, amidst the ancient fragments of bone of the creature that once wore them.

The gray Skreek slowly walks up to the throne. "King Moltpaa, I presume."

A hissing voice reaches Willow's ears. "Vrixzzzzzt… " A breeze stirs through the chambers, stirring up the dust.

Burr pokes his torch into one of the side chambers, while the Huntsman starts at the sudden rush of air. Testament-Blaze starts praying again in earnest.

And then, the doors to the audience hall slam shut.

Willow's ears flatten and she clutches her staff. "We're not here to loot or vandalize," she chitters in Krozite. "We're just here to find out the truth of this place."

"The truuuuuth?" hisses the disembodied voice. "Then listen well, child of Kroz… " The dust stirs about all the more.

"I'm listening." The Skreek bites her lip. "How do you know I'm a child of Kroz?"

A specter appears in the throne, formed of dust and broken fragments of bone, and corroded bits of metal that once might have been jewelry or perhaps bits of ornamental armor. It vaguely resembles the outline of a Skreek … but only with a great deal of imagination used to fill in the missing parts.

"It isss in your bloood," chitters the voice. "Child of Kroz … once child of Moltpaa … but taken and twisted in the image of the Overlord of Bosch."

Willow inhales sharply, her grip on the staff sweating. "I don't understand what that means."

There's a sensation of fuzziness that is intruding upon Willow's mind. Nobody else in the room seems to be focused on the throne, instead looking about at the walls or the passages.

Nobody else seems to have noticed the oddity of old bones and dust and corroded pieces of metal floating about in a mockery of life.

"Testy? Burr? You… don't… see?" Willow just stares at the apparition. It seems awfully interesting to her … odd that everyone else thinks the walls are more important right now.

They don't seem to hear her. In fact, they seem to be standing absolutely still … and slowly fading away. The light in the room is changing … no longer coming from the lanterns or torches, which seem to have vanished as well.

The apparition's form seems more defined now … It's no longer a collection of fragments. Instead, she looks at what looks like a twisted mockery of a Skreek, lacking fur, with a muzzle that has partially exposed bone at the mouth, and eyes that surely would be blind … but this changes as well.

The form changes … and Willow finds herself staring at a Skreek … a perfectly normal Skreek, except that it seems like he has actually taken an effort in cleaning himself up and trimming up, and happens to be decked out like a king. A primitive king, perhaps, but a king nonetheless.

"What are you doing?" The gray Skreek tries to sound as stern as she can, but her tone is painted with fear. "Who are you?"

"Show some respect, and bow down before the King of the Western Kingdom." The Skreek's eyes are alight with a certain bitterness, and his voice is heavy with age. "I am King Vrixt."

Part of Willow wants to rebel and spit at the apparition's feet, but this thing has yet to insult her – and if it really is a king… "I'm sorry," she finally says and drops to one knee. "I was just startled."

The king looks down on Willow. There's still a hint of anger in his eyes … but the fire behind it smolders, to be replaced by a weary expression. "You may rise. You wished to know the truth. That I will show you. And then the truth of yourself shall be seen."

"Thank you. It's all I ask for and all I came here for." Willow pulls herself back up to her feet.

Willow's surroundings have changed. She is still in the hall … but it is illuminated by lit braziers, and torches set in sconces on the walls. There is no sign of the mounds of gold told of in the legends. No, this is a kingdom of stone.

It looks as if there should be many more Skreeks lined up about the audience chamber: guards, servants, attendants … but for whatever reason in this vision, the audience hall is devoid of anyone save for the King and Willow.

The air smells of musty stone, smoke, and traces of burning incense and fragrant oils.

She looks around the castle. It reminds her of what she always thought a musty keep in Sylvania or Chronotopia would be like. Still, it seems so real. She turns around and looks back to the King.

The Skreek King slowly rises to his digitigrade, large and bare feet, and shuffles away from the throne with the aid of a royal scepter that serves for him more like a walking staff.

Across the audience hall, the engravings on the closed doors can now be seen. They form a map of the land of Kroz … or, more precisely, the underground lands of Moltpaa that lie beneath it.

King Vrixt slowly shuffles toward the double doors. "Come with me," he chitters in an even voice.

Willow nods, too confused to do more than comment. Folding her arms behind her back, she quietly follows behind the king.

The king stops when he reaches the double doors, the back sides of which form a map of the three-part kingdom. He leans against a stone column, and gestures toward the left – the western – side of the map. "This is Vrixt. My domain. The Western Kingdom."

There is a mark on this particular map, a sigil that Willow saw at some point earlier occurring on some of the stone doors. It appears to mark the location of this very underground city on the map. It consists of two marks that come together in a "V" shape, with a couple more marks coming off from the tips. With a great deal of imagination, it might resemble a very abstract Skreek's head.

"Your lands are named after you." The female Skreek nods. "And the other two parts?"

The king points to the middle portion. "Stalto. The Middle Kingdom." Here again is a sigil – a different one, but one easy enough to remember for future reference, looking like a slightly irregular spiral – that seems to mark the location of the capitol.

The king then points to the eastern part. "Naochi. The Eastern Kingdom." And there again is a sigil, this one comprised of five parallel slashes, marking the location of the capitol. It also happens to correspond to the location of Kiri's castle on the surface.

Willow's ears flatten. "Naochi? They existed that long ago?"

The king nods. "They looked nothing like your twisted form. They were Skreeks." He then stretches a bit, pointing to the area above Kroz and Moltpaa on the map. That would be Bosch.

"From the north came one of the Overlords of Bosch. Once, he was human, and he fancied himself to still be so," narrates the apparition.

A million questions rush to Willow's mind, but she bites down on them for now and simply listens to the King's story. Her lashing tail betrays the pent up emotions inside.

"In the three-thousand-seven-hundred-and-fiftieth year of Moltpaa," continues the king, "the humans lords of Bosch gathered around the Crystal Tower. They had mastered the ways of magic, and had found the secrets of the Ancients who had come before. They sought to become as gods. So they did … and it drove them into madness, and all the land with them."

"Their nation collapsed, as the mountain country became consumed by the wild magic which spread outward. The original Overlords were consumed in their madness. While they were by and large destroyed in the magical torment they had created for themselves, they still left their imprint upon the land. That is why, when the land of Bosch takes on the shapes of living things, it most often takes on the appearance of human-kind … however twisted and warped from that template it may be."

"But the consciousness of the original Overlords was not wholly consumed," continues the king. "One of the Overlords, a powerful mage known as Kroz, survived, at least in a manner of speaking. Exactly one hundred years after the fall of the human nation of Bosch, there was a swelling of wild magic in the surrounding lands. This was a time of powerful wizards … and when monsters roamed the lands, no longer confined to Bosch."

"So, too, Overlord Kroz was allowed to stray from his prison in the Crystal Tower. He came southward, to Moltpaa." The king lowers his scepter. "He came to conquer, and to reshape the land into his image."

"He found our people here," continues the king. "He found us distasteful by his standards. He sought to 'improve' us. Outside of Bosch, he could not cause instant change by but a wish, but his spells were still more than potent. He was able to warp the form of most of the population of the Three Kingdoms. He stripped us of our fur, and tried to reshape our forms to be more pleasing … but he only served to maim us … and he was not satisfied."

( The snicjers… ) Willow droops a little.

"In the end," says the king, as he leans on his scepter, "our battles against him were for naught. His power was too great, and the wild magic of Bosch was strong in the land. He decided to wipe us out and begin anew. Although we were no mages, with the presence of so much magic, even our dying curses held potency."

"We cursed his children, and pledged that our ghosts would prey upon them. He, knowing how simple ghosts can be, decided to taunt us beyond the grave … and he adopted some of our number as his own. Three of our number. One of Vrixt. One of Stalto. One of Naochi. He also took members of the surface-dwellers' clans and shaped them more to his liking as well, and made them his children."

"He made them slightly more like himself. More in his image," the king says. "But he could not complete his work, for the wild magic subsided, and he was forced to withdraw back to Bosch. He had left, however, a legacy of a divided kingdom … the children of Kroz."

Willow looks down at her legs – her funny looking straight legs that kept her from ever being fully accepted by Skreeks or viewed as anything more than a malformed rat trying to pretend to be something more by anyone else. And to hear it was a deliberate change? "What about the Dack family? Does Dagh fit into this somehow?"

The king turns to look at Willow. "Dagh is even older than Moltpaa. His descendants have long lived on the eastern edge of the country, on the surface. His descendants long served the Eastern Kingdom. And they were there as always, when Kroz came and reshaped the land into his image."

"Before that, all of Dagh's line were of the Kattha," the king says. He pauses, then adds, "Including, of course, Dagh himself."

"Do you know who Dagh is, then? Or what it is he truly wants?" Willow swallows.

The king looks intently into Willow's eyes. "Dagh is no more alive than I am."

"Is that why he's so focused on things that are 'alive'? Because he's not?" The gray Skreek shakes her head, "Did he do something to the Naochi children? I'm supposed to be dead!"

"I cannot answer that. I am but a ghost. I cannot see into your time," the king says wearily. "But Dagh is much like Kroz. He sought to be a god, like so many others."

"Naochi… " the ghost repeats.

Willow shrinks down a little more. "Naochi? What did they do?"

The ghost meets Willow's eyes again. He seems a little less distinct somehow. "There are some powers best not to be dealt with." He looks to Willow. "Is this the truth you seek? Is this what you have come for? If you seek answers for the present, you should not ask ghosts, but rather the living."

"What became of Tyrne Dagh? If he's dead, why have I seen him in my dreams? Why has he been able to affect things around me?" The gray Skreek shakes her head. "If he has motivations or weaknesses, I need to know them, because I don't think my dealings with him are finished with just yet."

The king answers, "Tyrne Dagh is dead. The Dagh you know is a ghost. Perhaps immortality is possible. Death has not granted me any insight into the secrets of the Ancient Ones. But in life I knew of ghosts, for this land has had plenty of them. What you speak with now, in your mind, is only an echo of me. Where my soul is now … is somewhere far from your world."

"Tyrne Dagh sought to become a god. He sought to become like the Ancient Ones. But who is to say if the Ancient Ones got what they bargained for? Who is to say they fared any better than the Overlords of Bosch?" The king shakes his head. "Whatever you speak with, it is an echo of Tyrne Dagh, mixed with something of the living. Perhaps this ghost draws a little from your own mind. Perhaps it draws something from the mind of one of its living progeny. It has no initiative, no personal agendas on its own."

"I don't quite understand, but I know more than I did before." Willow shakes her head. "I only have one more question… Will the snicjers ever be at peace? They took an innocent girl's life by the name of Nene Diamante, and I don't want anyone else like her to die if I can ever do anything about it."

"I cannot reunite my kingdom. I cannot leave these halls. This ghost you see was only awakened by your desire, your determination to find 'the truth'. Only you can determine whether you have gotten what you wished for," the apparition intones. "But there is one thing I can do. I am still the King of the Western Kingdom, even if my subjects are but ghosts."

The gray Skreek straightens herself a little bit. "I had been told that the snicjers devoured the souls of their victims… "

"No soul can be devoured," whispers the king. "Not even by Bosch. Far less by wraiths such as myself."

The king turns to face Willow directly, looking into her eyes as if searching for something.

"Mother Diamante will take comfort in that." Willow exhales sharply through her nostrils. "What is it you can do?" She blinks and takes a nervous step back, feeling even more uncomfortable under the king's gaze.

"I can give commands to my subjects," responds the king. "But they are driven by anger, by the desire to defend the honor of Moltpaa, even beyond the grave. Tell me, child, who are you? And can you pledge to me that if I bid my people to rest, that you shall honor the memories of Moltpaa?"

"My name is Wi – " She shrinks down, swallows and starts again, "My name is Chiria Naochi, and I pledge that I will indeed honor the memories of the Moltpaa, and do my best to make sure that others do as well. I know how it feels to be driven by anger."

The king nods his head. "It will be so, then. I hereby decree that my people shall no longer prey upon the living. Once you leave this hall, we shall rest. But I rule only the Western Kingdom. I cannot speak for the Middle Kingdom. And as for the East… " The king lets this trail off. "So be it."

"Thank you, King Vrixt." She drops to one knee again. "Is there any written record of this in your hall? Anything I can take with me to show to people what you were? Otherwise I'll make sure that Testament-Blaze records all of this in his own book."

"Only written in blood … and that has long faded," replies King Vrixt. "As for proof, I can offer only this." He reaches to his clawed hand and removes his signet ring. "Give this to my descendant, even if he is a child of Kroz. If he will not believe you as my messenger, and bearer of my signet ring, then he is unfit for his throne."

The ring, naturally, bears the sigil of Vrixt. It also happens to be made of hammered gold, and the sigil is cut into stone set on the top.

Willow looks at the ring carefully. "Prince Cobalt?"

The king says, "I cannot see into your time. But I entrust you with this ring."

"I will do my best to ensure that your descendant gets your gift, King Vrixt." Willow folds it in her hand and swallows. "There's a priest with me… May he say a prayer over your body?"

The king nods. "So be it." And then he fades.

There is a pause, as the king disappears, but the chamber seems to be the same. Then, Willow hears hoof-steps on the stone floor, echoing behind her.

Rubbing her head, the Skreek turns around to meet up with the approaching Cervani.

It's not the Huntsman … but a Cervani doe, dressed like a young noblewoman decked out for a stroll in the woods. The face is familiar enough, since it's been staring out from a painting hanging in a certain room in Castle Diamante for the entirety of Willow's stay. She is smiling.

The Skreek freezes in her steps. "But you… you can't… you're… " She all but forgets to breathe.

"You're right. I can't," the doe answers, a hint of sadness creeping into her features. "And I'm not. But I just wanted to thank you. And can I ask a favor of you? Just a little something I would like you to pass on to the Huntsman for me."

All Willow can do is nod dumbly.

The doe throws her arms around the Skreek, giving her a big hug … and at that very moment, Willow snaps back to reality, standing in front of the throne, a signet ring in her hand. The dust of King Vrixt's remains are slightly disturbed … suggesting that the ring had been dug out of the dust and bones, rather than simply materializing in her hand miraculously.

"Willow? Are you all right?" asks the Huntsman. "It isn't another trap – Burr got the doors open."

The Skreek slowly sinks to her knees, looking at the ring in her hands. "I don't know if I can, Nene. I'd have done anything else… but I can't. I don't even know how… "

The Huntsman sounds a bit taken aback as he repeats, "Nene… ? Willow? What's that you have there?"

Burr shoves open the second of the large stone doors, while Testament-Blaze holds his lantern up to the images carved into the stone walls, tracing some of them with his free hand.

Willow holds up her hand bearing the signet ring. "There won't be any more snicjer attacks in the Western Kingdom. King Vrixt and I just had a little talk." She looks at the cheetah priest. "Testament-Blaze, what you did for the dead men on the Merryweather, could you do that for the king here?"

Testament-Blaze breaks off from studying the glyphs, and nods, heading up to the throne.

The Huntsman says, "You're going to explain this eventually, right?"

"Depends on whether or not you'll believe me," the Skreek answers. "I know who the king was now, and I know what happened here. That's enough for now. and I… I think I saw Nene."

The Cervani's eyes and ears betray the Huntsman's alarm at this latter revelation.

"Where? How? When?" he blurts out.

Willow just shrugs. "There's ghosts here, and I guess that if Dagh finds me easy to talk with, then King Vrixt is the same way in his own throne room." Slowly she pulls herself to her feet. "Then when it was all almost over I saw Nene. She wanted me to 'pass something along' to the Huntsman… and… and then she hugged me."

The Huntsman looks away, staring at nothing in particular, then nods slowly.

The Skreek sticks the ring in her pocket. "I'm sorry. I probably sound like a complete idiot. I feel like one at the moment. Either way, when we get back, I need to have Testy record some writing for me before I forget it all, and I need to give Vrixt's ring to Prince Cobalt – if he really is the king's heir." She sighs and shuffles towards the newly opened door.

"Is that it, then?" asks the Huntsman, as he clips across the floor after Willow. "And I can see I was right about the tales of mountains of gold being overblown."

Testament-Blaze finishes signing over the throne, then notices the others leaving, and hurries after them.

"I wasn't expecting any gold. Just answers. I didn't get all the ones I wanted, but I got enough." She glances back over her shoulder. "Kind Vrixt said that once we left his hall, then the snicjers would never attack anyone in the Western Kingdom again. In return I promised to honor the memories of the Moltpaa."

The Huntsman pauses, looking back upon the audience hall, before following along, as Burr swings the double doors closed. "I shall recommend to the Prince that he do whatever he can to aid you in that promise, then."

"You mean you don't think I'm completely out of my gourd?" Willow lets a wry chuckle.

The Huntsman raises an eyebrow. "This is Kroz. We just fought off some ghosts, then some animated bones, and found our way into the throne room of a palace within a great underground city, based on a hunch you had. I am more than willing to give you the benefit of a doubt."

"Thank you." The Skreek exhales tiredly. "After this, I think I've done all I can in the Western Kingdom. As soon as my arm heals up a bit more, it's time to visit Castle Naochi and get the rest of my answers. I just hope Kiri hasn't sold all of them yet."

---

GMed by Greywolf

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Today is 5 days after Candlemass, Year 29 of the Reign of Archelaus the First (6128)