Tilia’s Field Notes: Travis

Among our odd little party, Travis and I are the most obviously unlike the others in appearances. He is a particularly interesting creature, a mysteriously animated man made of wooden elements, none of which are still living but somehow together make a sentient person. He’s a machine of some sort, but obviously much more complex than any others I’ve ever encountered, and imbued with a liveliness that seems no different from the rest of us. As we’ve seen several times over, he can be injured much like the rest of us, but does not shed blood.

A wooden robot man, with multiple types of wood grain and a little window into his chest.

Travis is made of mixed woods; it was hard to sketch his portrait because the detail is seemingly endless when one looks closely. He is carved with smooth, elegant lines, parts of him highly polished, like with an oil-rubbed finish. There is a compartment in his chest where glowing crystals reside, and he believes they are his power source — unlike the rest of us, he does not require food and water, because these crystals provide the energy to sustain him.

Travis is a cleric dedicated to Ioun and a teacher of some sort, examining the world much as I do, though with a focus on other things — history, religion, astronomy and such. He has no memory of his own past beyond the last 50 years, but our recent exploits have revealed him to be much older, an ancient creation of the presumably elven masters of the strange underworld from which we recently fled. He is unexpectedly friendly, almost naive, in the way he interacts with those we meet. This has occasionally led to conflict and injury when the parties in question harbored some kind of enmity.

Despite a tendency to get us into a bit of trouble and talk over our heads, Travis is an excellent spellcaster, and has healed all of us at some point. He offers shelter for the group when we are in The Glade, and regularly shares the provisions that he doesn’t himself need. His odd habits and interests aside, Travis is a generous soul and a good companion on these wild adventures.

Wynlynn’s Reflections 6

As I step back onto solid ground, I am relieved to be out of that dangerous strange place. Val is looking worse for wear but is safe for the moment and I can relax, at least about that. We are back in the room where we had made the access stone. While we had certainly faced our share of dangers here, they were tied to getting the colored liquids which we certainly didn’t need now. 

As we catch our breath most of the others appear up through the light shaft and step out into the room to join us. No one says anything in those long moments as we wait to see if Travis and Agenar have made it out of that place, as if saying something will somehow make the fears come true. I had seen them with the large metal warforged standing over Travis right before I came up and I am not certain if they could have made it away. It’s also uncertain how we will ever make it out of this place if they did not make it away since Travis seems to be the key to opening the staircase that leads out of here. But that is a worry I cannot worry yet. 

After what seems like an eternity the two of them finally emerge into the room and I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, as relief washes over me. Travis does not look good but they are alive and have made it back to us so we have every reason to be grateful. We head up the stairs, all of us, together.

Now that we are back in the caves not far from the fountain and the statue that hides the secret stairwell, we can take a moment to assess how everyone is. We are all alive at least but Val is seriously injured and Travis has some dark coloring under his… skin? bark? and it is spreading from the area where Agenar says he was injected by the warforged below. Travis insists he is fine but the dark coloring is spreading quite quickly. Before we can even decide what to do it has covered him completely and reached the crystal at the center of his chest. He passes out, but only for a moment before getting up without a word and walking back towards the fountain. We can only assume to head back down and since he isn’t speaking to us as we frantically ask him what he is doing. He doesn’t seem to even notice we are there. If he goes down there, we cannot follow for without him on our side, and in the state he is in now I can’t say we have him on our side, we will surely die. Val grabs a hold of large wood man attempting to stop him. Even as she holds him he continues to walk determinedly towards the fountain. I help grab a hold and finally we stop him. We call out to the others to get some rope and tie him up till we can figure out what is happening. Pantaghion pulls rope out of his bag and helps secure him as Val and I hold him still.

With Travis tied up we take the moment to discuss our options. We have no idea what is wrong with him, none of us have ever seen anything like it. I am concerned that taking him to town will put the people there in danger. What if it is contagious? What if Travis escapes and attacks people? There is no saying what he would do. But in the end, the only options are to seek out help or leave him here to whatever fate befalls. Since the second option is out of the question, there is no other option but to see if Wilhelm, the cleric back at the fort in the Glade, can help Travis.

With a plan decided on, Val picks up the securely tied Travis, swinging him over her shoulder and we head out. We do not get very far before Val, for no apparent reason, puts him down. He starts to worm his way back the way we had come. Val seems to shake herself out of it, seemingly as confused as we are by the action. Whatever the reason, it has passed and she picks him up and we resume our trek. Just to be on the safe side, Val give Travis a big wack, knocking him unconscious as we head out into the daylight.

It is early morning and I, despite all our troubles, it feels good to be out in forrest again. It is a perfect day, sunlight trickling down through the canopy of trees, the sounds of animals going about their day around us. The traveling takes mind of my worries for a moment. We make good progress through the day with no more difficulties from Travis, but we know we can not make it all the way back to town in one hike and that we must eventually make camp. As we find a suitable place and settle in for the night, we make sure Travis is tightly secured before Val and Tilia take up first watch, the rest of us laying down to rest.

***

I come out of my meditation and am relieved to hear that Val and Tilia had faced no difficulties. Travis is still asleep and all is quiet as they settle down to get some much deserved rest themselves. I was a little on edge as Agenar and I started our watch, but slowly relaxed as the hours went by. Eventually, Agenar went back to sleep as Teal and Pantaghion woke up to take the third watch. We had nearly made it through the night with no struggle. 

A short while later I look over at Travis and see that he is awake and watching us. Behind those eyes I do not see our companion, but instead a calculating adversary who only wants to escape. He quickly closes his eyes as if we would now believe he is asleep. Teal and Pantaghion confirm that they saw it too. I hear Travis whisper something but I can’t make out what. It is the first time I have heard him speak since the dark coloring covered his whole body. Pantaghion gets up, and goes over to Travis. At first I think he is just checking on Travis. He reaches down to the knots holding the ropes securely around Travis. Is he checking them to make sure they are still tight? No, he seems to be trying to untie them. I jump, “What are you doing?” No response. I run over and struggle to stop him. I shout out to wake the others but no one stirs. They are in such a deep sleep after our long taxing day. Pantaghion pushes me away and goes for the knots again. I can’t let him release Travis. Between Val releasing Travis from her hold the day before and Pantaghion’s actions now I have a suspicion that Travis is behind this. As Teal comes to help me stop Pantaghion I turn and wack Travis in the head, knocking him unconscious once more. Pantaghion stops struggling with Teal, looking confused by his own actions and what he had just attempted to do. This confirms it, the word Travis had said right before Pantaghion went to untie him, Pantaghion stopping the moment Travis was knocked out… Travis was using magic to control him. We can’t let this happen again.

***

As the others start to wake up for morning only a short while after our struggles with Travis, we share the events of the night. Agenar thinks he may know what spell Travis used. “Most likely, if we gag him, he won’t be able to perform the spell again,” he shares with us. So we form a gag and get ready for another day of traveling, Val carrying Travis over her shoulder.

***

As we enter town and I fall back to walk behind Val, watching Travis over her shoulder. He is chewing on the gag in his mouth, perhaps trying to chew through. He seems to have made some progress but it holds. All except Agenar, who never goes anywhere near the fort, go to seek out Wihelm right away. It is getting to be evening and we have to bother him in his quarters. We seem to be making a habit of this.

“I have never worked on a wood man before,” he shares as he examines our friend now laying on a table in Wihelm’s workspace, still tied up. “I have never seen anything like this but I do have something I can try.” He honestly tells us, that while he thinks there is a good chance, he has no idea if it will cure our friend. On top of that it will not be cheap. Teal worries that if it doesn’t work, we may not have the money to seek out other cures for our friend. As we debate this point Wihelm tries to convince us that this is really the best choice. I trust him. He has helped us many times before, if he believes it is the best choice, then we have to try. 

Finally we all agree to have Wihelm try and he gathers his supplies. He spreads diamond dust around Travis and works his spell. As he does, the dark coloring that covers Travis’s body starts to recede from him limbs. Wihelm, the dark coloring following his hands as he waves them up and away from Travis, extracts it out. Soon there is a black formless blob floating in the air, small parts of it jumping away from it and back in like fleas on an animal. At Wihelm’s urgent request, I get him a large vial and stopper and he moves the mass into it and seals it. I hold the vial up and look at the swarm inside, a million tiny flecks jumping around. At that moment, Travis says, “Hi, why are your all looking at me? And why am I tied up?” Relief washes over me, realizing that it worked and Travis is himself again.

I give the vial to Val for safekeeping. Maybe we can eventually find someone who knows what is inside and what it did to Travis. In the meantime we can just be happy for a moment that Travis is okay.

Agenar’s journal, page 241

This morning, Wynlynn told us that Travis tried to escape during the night, and somehow Pantaghion wanted to help. When she repeated what the woodman said, I recognized a command spell – and since this is only effective if spoken, we have gagged him using the rags that had wrapped my feet. I really must buy some boots at next opportunity.

A long day’s march brought us to the Glade as evening fell, and while the others took Travis to the fort for Wilhelm’s attention, I retreated to the Yeoman’s Apple. I was enjoying my ale – how thirsty one gets, after some days without – when Travis, fully recovered, entered and asked Darian Ionadi, the barkeep, about mail. He did have a letter waiting, and joined me by the fire to read it.

Travis was pointing out a passage that concerns Dagon’s Reach – the glowing crystal is, the Archivist says, called Diapson, and it is a conduit for spellcraft – when Pantaghion also came in. The paladin ordered an ale and joined us. He was telling me that Wilhelm had used Greater Restoration, a spell beyond either of us and requiring a quantity of diamond dust, to heal Travis, extracting a cloud of gnats from him in the process. The medic had bottled these strange bugs and given them to Val, so I may see them myself soon.

Pantaghion had hardly finished relating this, though, when he noticed a strange hooded figure in the corner and became agitated. I did not recognize the man, or any of the customers, as it seemed those I had known before were all elsewhere, but ordered another drink and crossed the room to make his acquaintance.

The fellow ignored me, staring at Pantaghion while munching on a turkey leg. The paladin took umbrage and came over; I shrugged, drained the tankard, and went back to discussing Travis’s news.

A crash drew our attention across the room, though; Pantaghion had flipped the man’s dinner to the floor, and was being restrained from attack by a recently-arrived Val and Wynlynn.

Travis stepped over, towering above the others but sounding conciliatory. Money changed hands, and the man, now calling himself Jerry, admitted that he had been sent from Dranseri to spy on Pantaghion. The paladin was furious, until learning that his father had arranged it all.

Suddenly, he was filled with zeal for a visit to the city.

Travis, perhaps unwisely, invited Jerry to make his work easy by joining our group, and Jerry agreed. Appeased, Pantaghion returned to his residence; Travis and Wynlynn, likewise, left for the schoolhouse.

Val settled by the fire with a drink and I made arrangement with Ionadi to take a room upstairs. After years of keeping my own company, I cannot crowd into the schoolhouse with the others, and for twenty gold on account, Darian assured me that my things and I will be undisturbed.

I returned to the fire, where Val now sat alone pensively with a tankard of mead. After several moments of silence, I asked what trouble she saw. She turned to look at me, as if reaching a difficult decision, and said, “Agenar, can I stay with you? Ula – Wynlynn and I aren’t together. Any more.” Her voice caught, but she continued, “I don’t have anywhere else.”

Stunned, I nodded. “It is a public house,” I said. “Let me ask Darian, I’m sure he has room.”

“No,” she said. “With you. I’ll sleep better.”

I choked on my ale, but then nodded. Signaling Ionadi, when he arrived with fresh drinks I said, “Anything she wants, so long as I have gold.” The barkeep, having already placed us abed together once, smiled knowingly.

Now, Val sleeps in my bed as I write, for I fear to join her. It is hard, sleeping next to, but not with, such beauty, and I am weak. May the white dragon’s breath give me strength.

Tilia’s Field Notes: Subterranean Adventures

After my most recent entry, we spent a night recovering before returning to what I shall call the “Rainbow Room” below the glowing elven caves. This time, Travis was able to talk his way into easily retrieving the colored liquids that had so fascinated Wynlynn, aside from one.

There was an intense clash with a pair of elementals — water and fire — in which my spells proved quite helpful. Apparently the logic of wielding the opposing element against each creature was effective.

After all of that, Travis was able to unlock a way into yet another sub-level, an enormous space with a temple and more robots like him. Of course, further conflict arose and we fled. Val actually beat me to the punch in retreating! I was proud of my companions for recognizing that we were very likely to fare poorly against the machine men.

I’ve faltered in keeping up my field notes lately, however, as there has been little opportunity to observe natural history and my mind has been occupied with other concerns. We pass quickly through the forests without time to see the plants and animals. Trying to examine the nature of my strange tribe is its own challenge, as what we hear of everyone’s story has pieces missing from it.

Letter to Caedmon, 5th Day of Sehanine

Dearest Caedmon,

I scarcely know where to begin—it has been the strangest of our expeditions so far, a trial not only to the body, but to the mind itself. Our very sense of the nature of reality is shaken, and you know that I do not speak lightly, having witnessed some fantastical phenomena at the boundary between this and the watery plane.

I write from my cozy little attic at the top of the lockkeeper’s house; but just twelve hours ago I was resting deep in the Denarian forest, taking a much-needed break on our way back to the Glade from the ruined elven temple. Picture our party, battle-weary and still reeling from our recent experiences, huddled around the dying embers of our fire in various states of alertness and repose. Travis is bound to a large oak tree, an alarming dark liquid coursing through his veins. He looks at us as strangers and has attempted to manipulate us with his magic. Val fears that in his current state of mind, Travis might even attack us—hence our efforts to restrain our altered comrade.

To be honest, tying up our wooden friend makes me very uncomfortable. As you can probably imagine, it brings back painful memories of Talpin: of being bound up by my school-mates as a “sea monster” when my fins first became noticeable. Yet it seems like the best option under the circumstances—a safeguard against Travis escaping—perhaps permanently—to the subterranean world beneath the elven ruins, or having to injure him more seriously than we already have. He who has healed all of us so many times is even now unconscious from a blow intended to prevent him from struggling free as Val carried him away from the elven temple. If not for the dim glow of the crystal in his chest, it would be hard to tell whether he still lives.

But what indeed is does it mean to be alive, especially for a being like Travis? The sense of incompleteness—of isolation—that plagues him because of the gaps of his memory was never so apparent than it was down in the multicolored chambers below the elven ruins. I will never forget the raw emotion of Travis’s declaration to one of his former acquaintances, “I’ve been so lonely.” And the excitement in his voice on encountering beings who appeared to recognize him as an old friend! During our second visit to the rainbow chambers, my heightened senses told me that the same ghasts who had attacked us hours before—now conversing amiably with Travis—were not in fact alive, but part of an elaborate, ingenious mechanism. When I tried to draw Travis’s attention to their artifice, he gently dismissed me with the remark, “They’re just people like everyone else.” I understood that he was determined to see them as people—people who had perhaps once meant a great deal to him.

Drawn by the force of Travis’s desire, we have descended repeatedly into a wondrous space beneath the famed ruined temple of the Denarian forest. We fought skeleton warriors, ghasts, and elementals of fire and water—all so that Travis could complete an esoteric ritual to generate a rainbow-hued stone. By means of that stone, he opened up a secret underground world still further below the multicolored chambers. At the center of this fabulous space was an imposing structure: a beam of pure energy emerged from its roof to penetrate an astrolabe suspended in mid-air. It was in this temple, from which emerged the most piteous cries in an ancient tongue, that Travis contracted the strange malady that has altered him beyond recognition.

But I shall not keep you in suspense, my dearest one—you will be glad to know that we made it back to the Glade in time. Cleric Wilhelm has once again proved a most efficacious healer and restored our wooden companion to health—and his kindly, bookish disposition. To return to the scene in the forest, however: it was a rather eventful night, so I’ve recorded some of the happenings here.

Panthagion, Wynlynn, and I were on third watch together; the half-elven paladin, typically a man of few words, seemed unusually communicative.

“To whom are you writing?” he asked me.

I had been jotting down some notes for my missive to you—and was taken completely by surprise. Panthagion has always been kind to me in his way, but I can count the number of times that he has asked me anything personal.

“I guess this will become a letter—eventually—for my friend Caedmon—you must have listened to him performing at least a few times at the Delectable Comestibles.”

“Ah—the Bard. The one from whom you receive mystic sendings from time to time—or so you believe.”

“It isCaedmon. No-one could imitate his voice—or at least the way he speaks to me.”

“There are such spells, Panthagion,” offered Wynlynn, “I once knew an elven bard who was able to send her thoughts out to others—even beyond the material plane, she claimed.”

The handsome paladin was silent for a while. Then he said, “Do you think your friend would help me send such a thought message?”

“Why, I’m sure Caedmon would help you if he could. He’s always ready to help anyone who asks—and would be especially happy to do so if that person is a friend of mine.” 

Panthagion gave us one of his rare, fetching smiles. “Then perhaps we must arrange to attend the one of the bard’s performance soon. I do not deceive myself that he will have better luck than I in contacting my father, but at this point I am ready to try anything.”

“Caedmon will be in Dranseri now. Perhaps we can plan to visit the city—that is, once we see to Travis.”

“We might even need to seek help for Travis from one of the high mages of Dranseri—or perhaps one of their expert mechanics—if no-one at the Glade can help,” added Wynlynn.

After a few moments, I broke the silence.

“I wanted to apologize for my blunder in the Blue Chamber yesterday. I guess I got a bit carried away and forgot about explosive after-effects of the ice knife spell. I just wanted you to know how sorry I am for injuring you. My mentors never intended me to use my magic for combat, so I’m really still an amateur. Anyway, if there’s anything I can do to make it up to you …”

Panthagion waved his hand dismissively. “Eh. It was nothing.” But after a short pause, “But if you could ask your musician friend to help me get in touch with my father, I would eternally be in your debt.”

Wynlynn looked thoughtful. “Don’t mention it, Teal. Mistakes occur all the time in real combat situations. What’s important is that you learnfrom those errors—ultimately, that’s what separates the true warrior from the amateur. And I’ve been observing you—you’re a quick learner!”

I said nothing, but smiled with gratitude. Wynlynn continued speaking.

“And Panthagion, we have seldom had occasion to speak of your search for your father; I, too, have known what it is to search in vain for someone who meant the whole realm—and more—to me. I’d be glad to help you in any way that I can. And Val would be willing to help, too.

“Of course, I would be honored to have the assistance of such maidens as yourselves—who are as brave as you are beautiful.” 

Just then, we heard a loud rustling; all eyes turned toward Travis, just in time to see the transient glow of two obsidian orbs, which were slyly shuttered close the very next moment.

Wynlynn immediately got up and quietly headed over to the bound woodman, and Panthagion did the same. While Wynlynn was inspecting Travis’s bonds, the paladin proceeded to start untying our ostensibly unconscious companion! 

“Panthagion!” hissed Wynlynn, “What in Corellon’s name …?”

From the paladin’s glazed expression we inferred that he was under some kind of enchantment; in an effort to shake him out of his trance, I drenched him with an icy shower—but in vain.

Travis had now abandoned the pretense of slumber and was actively struggling with Wynlynn, who was doing her best to prevent him from expediting Panthagion’s efforts to liberate him.

“Teal! Knock him out again!” she yelled.

I gulped as I struck with the base of my spear, and was almost relieved when Travis dexterously avoided the blow. He was almost free when there was a flash of steel and he fell back limply against the oak tree. Wynlynn cooly sheathed her short sword, pausing momentarily to see if she had dented its blunt edge by striking the woodman.

“What … just happened?” asked a dazed Panthagion, “Why am I soaking wet??”

“Really? Three of you can’t keep one tied-up woodman from escaping?” Val’s tone was amused; she yawned and was already settling back into her spot next to the dying fire.

“Sorry I wet you for nothing just now,” I said as Panthagion wrung out his scarlet cloak.

“I needed a shower anyway.” He peeled off his dripping tunic and turned abruptly to face me. Seeing me blush, he smiled mischievously and winked before grabbing a blanket to dry himself off.

And thus ended the excitement of the night. We decided to gag Travis to forestall further unwanted enchantment, and in the morning, resumed our journey back to the Glade. The rest of the story you already know.

I shall close here tonight, my dearest friend—tomorrow I have an early start on the river to make up for several days of missing work with Old Man Styx.

Ever yours,

Teal

PS. Happy news! Which I have apparently saved for the postscript, my dearest one. All these days I have had to content myself with those peculiar thought messages you send me, but soon we may be able to meet face-to-face! For I have just heard from the others that Panthagion has found a lead for his father … we set off for Dranseri this morning. If all goes as planned, I will see you in two days’ time. If you can, please send word indicating where I may find you.

Agenar’s journal, page 239

Our respite did not last. Travis, in spite of his injuries, wished to return below. Val, with help from Wynlynn, carried him out of Thalnoth’s tomb into the soft light of a brisk autumn morning. It seems we were underground for some days, though our time in the hidden temples passed without even hunger.

Travis, though, would not be deferred. The instant Val set him down, he began moving toward the mausoleum entrance again. Exasperated, Val brought him down by throwing her arms around his legs to trip him, then ended his struggle with the hilt of her scimitar. Wynlynn wrapped him in ropes, and after brief discussion, we decided that a return to the Glade, where we might consult Wilhelm at the fort, was most practical and expedient. Pantahgion agrees, even our best efforts would not heal him.

The day was beautiful. Wynlynn led us thru the wood, with leaves already turning from the green of our arrival to bright yellows, deep reds, and glorious shades between. Near noon, Tilia saw something – it must have been quite large – flying very fast in the distance. Otherwise, we simply marched along, chatting a bit about what we had just seen, or might do next in the Glade, until camping under a full Se’lune and waxing Io. I think I will buy some boots when we arrive, having been barefoot for too long.

When I woke for second watch, Val mentioned that the woods were quiet, but she, too, had seen something strange flying across Se’lune. I hope I may also see it, for it just might be a dragon.

Wynlynn’s Reflections 5

We float slowly down the long tunnel of light to softly land in a large empty room made of stone. As we open the only door in the room and head out, we are looking over a large plaza surrounded up neatly manicured trees and on the far end is a large staircase leading up a stone temple of some sort. Around the temp there was no ground but bright light seemed to emanate from below. I look up and expanse is so big I can’t any type of ceiling though we are underground and there must be one. This is certainly the strangest place I have ever seen. 

As we walk up the cobblestone street in the direction of the large temp, we start to notice the activity of small spherical metal creatures who wirl in and out of holes formed in the sides of the street. They pick up leaves and anything out of place with metal tong like hands that extend out from their bodies when needed. Val picks a leaf off a nearby tree and drops by her feet and waits a moment. A spherical robot comes whirling out of a nearby hole, heading straight for the leaf. Before it can grab the leaf and leave, Val reaches down and grabs it. She holds it up and examine the metal creature. A metal arm extends out and starts to stab at Val’s hand.

“Ouch,” Val gives a small cry of surprise.

“Put it down,” I tell her adimitly. It stabs her several more times. “Put it down!” I try again. It stabs her again. Reluctantly she puts the creature down and it rushes off and back down the hole it came from. I check Val’s hand turning it over in my own as blood wells up from the small stab wounds. She pulls her hand away from me looking annoyed that she couldn’t keep the things. She smears off the blood with her other hand and heads to catch up with the others who are still heading up the road, Travis in the lead.

As we approach the grand stairway heading upwards towards the large stone temple, we see that the road goes to the right and left, ending just a short ways up, surrounded by stone archways filled with swirling purple light. Portals perhaps? Travis heads to the left to get a closer look and then we see two warforged approaching, each larger than Travis and made of metal gears.

They great Travis, not in the friendly manner of the guards above, but in a mechanical way. They immediately state that the rest of us are not authorized and the one closest to us immediately lashes out at Val. She is nearly knocked unconscious with justone blow, just barely staying on her feet. I yell at the others to run and we quickly turn to go. Teal, who is always a quick thinker in battle, summons a fog surrounding our two attackers and covering our retreat. Travis does not run with the rest of us but instead tries repeatedly to argue with the large mechanical men, telling them we are authorized to be here. As we run we hear the request repeatedly denied.

Triavis does not stop his attempts pleading once again that we are authorized. As suddenly as it began, one voice calls out, “Authorization confirmed,” and the fight is over. As the fog slowly clears the large war forges turn towards the trees and start to trim any branches that sticking out from the rest in the sights sign of disorder. Small spherical robots rush around their feet cleaning up the dropped foliage as they trim the trees. 

Travis calls to come back and continue our exploration assuring us that is fine now. We are very wary to continue, now knowing that we are very out matched by those that would guard this place and that, unlike Travis, we are not welcome. Still, we go because if we don’t, I am not sure he will be willing to leave with us, and we don’t have the heart to leave him in this strange place alone. What are we even doing together as a group if not to watch each others back as we search out for what it is we seek in this world? If we do not help Travis uncover his past, now the immediate danger has passed, how could we ask each other to help us when our time of need arises? 

So we go forward, this time heading up the larger steps towards the door at the top that leaning into the temple. Val who usually rushes to the front of the group eager to see what is around the next corner stays back, still seriously injured from our attackers, who even now stand not too far away pruning a tree. I stay with her, never willing to let her out of my sight in such a dangerous place as we find ourselves in. 

Travis and Agenar are at the top of the steps now and open the doors, slowing heading into the temp and out of sight. I look over the edge of stairs at the fantastic sight of nothing, no ground, no nothing, just light shining up at us in this cavernous chamber far underground. I don’t have much time to look before we hear the commotion and shouting from inside the temple.

Val, in no state to fight, immediately informs the group that she is running and off she goes back the way we came. I go after her for my place it at her side. As I reach the doors at the other end of the plaza I see Val just ahead of me stepping into the beam of light and being gently lifted upwards, floating back to the surface. I look back at the others. Most of our partly is fleeing now but I can just make out Travis and Agenar just inside the doors of the temple with another large metal warforged standing over Travis. I can’t make out what is happening and even if I could, there is nothing I can do for my friends now but hope that they make it out alive. With that I turn and follow Val back up to the surface.

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