It's kind of weird, the way our powers become limited when we step foot into certain areas, but there's something about these sewers, the mold and the mildew and a pressing energy that weakens us to a certain point. But Cieria and I, and our usual crew suited up and dove in.
Melchaia led us true to the Minotaur, and Pavan, as an actual Paladin kept the mobs attention until the monster's gaze filled him with panic and terror and he dropped to the ground. Cieria took over, with her calm and infuriating manner, and the Minotaur never noticed Mel's scythe and my arrows draining away his life. But Cieria too became doomed, and only one thing could be done.
That thing went down flat, even if we've heard that it sometimes takes an entire alliance of adventurers to get the minotaur dead.
The six of us retreat and rest up for the journey ahead.
We needed to find a gate, locked and made of iron, and the keys are kept by the ghosts of adventurer's slain in Tavnazia. Slaying them again leaves a dark stain of blood on the armor, and no matter how one tries and tries to clean it up with deodorizing spells, it sinks into one's skin, in a taint that is both physical and spiritual. Once upon a time, I slew some in an adventuring party and obtained a tiny bronze key, that I've kept in my Mog House, so this time, we could all clean the taint from our skin and leave the fomors to live their undead lives in peace.
But before this, we'd seen a notorious taurus monster the Mahisha wandering the path between us and the Minotaur. The victory over the big bad gave us the confidence to smash his named skull in and try to claim his prize. Pavan had learned the secrets of not getting doomed by the Mahisha's gaze (looking away) and the fight went much smoother than the Minotaur's did.
Melchaia led us to the gate, and up a ladder where we caught up to Nag-molada, lazy bastard making us do all the killing, killing work and risking our hides. And we walk into a library like room, complete with hidden passages...
And our heretofore trustworthy guide takes us through the wrong door and the back of a Doom Toad guards our only way out. Melchaia drops through, without the oil to quiet his movements, and we must fight our way past the giant blob of flesh.
We survive, but we have a new problem. My old key broke in the gate, and so we have two options, kill these fomors, that we would have rather left alone for our safety, our sanity, and our mog cleaning bills, until we find one who has another bronze key, or we could find someone who get get in the less honest way...
We tried to kill the fomors, but two of them sapped our strength to the max. No way we could fight through them all, and who knows when a key would drop, so I mention another solution.
I suppose it's no secret that I used to be one of Mihgo's burglars. Not a good one, but good enough I guess. Never really had the passion for the work, but I did have the training, and since Ranger gear is so similar to the gear I used for thief, I stepped forward.
We could go back to the safehold, I said, I could get one of my associates to send me lockpicks. And that's what we chose to do. Our fighting was done mostly, though we needed to clean off the stench of the two fomors we killed. It took longer than I thought to get the lockpicks, but get them I did, and we headed back to the gate. Though my skills were rusty, the lock was even rustier, and broke apart easily.
Back to following Nag'molada, we found the right passage this time, and found ourselves in a corridor filled with oil lamps. Melchaia and Kysenna knew the secret of the lamps and the pressed two. I don't know which, not my job to know. But they opened the last door and Nag'molada found his precious object in the aqueducts.
Oh, and as we fought our way out and back to the safehold, I came to a new understanding of thievery, a realization if you will.
It was, as they say, an adventure.
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