Hawk isn’t particularly disgusted by the idea of eating insects; the tribal lands can be unforgiving in some years, and the tribe’s must move to more fertile lands. Before they reach new lands, though, they must survive, and one cannot be too picky about one’s diet if the alternative is starvation. Still, given the option, he’d rather not eat bugs; it’s not his thing.
“I did not see termites, but I do not know different bugs much. I will bring the bugs back out when there digging is over. If you see termites, you are welcome to have them.”
When Ranar asks for help digging, the shaman shrugs. “I am not strong of arm or body; I would just be in the way of someone stronger to help dig. It is better for me to stand back and keep bugs under control.”
As Hawk maintains his insect army, the rest of you pile in and start scooping out the dirt with your hands. Although the worm-loosened dirt is easy to scoop up, shifting it is still a messy and tiring job.
However, it is not a pointless task; as the excavation continues, it reveals a staircase heading westwards, down through the stone floor level. Excavating further, you see that the stairway leads into an underground passageway, also heading westwards. Although the dirt from the buried stairway has spilt into the passage somewhat, it does not fill it; it looks like it should be clear enough to pass through.
Noting the activity, Aronn emerges from his carriage, shading his eyes and leaning heavily on his staff. “Found something, have we?”
“Ain’t inny t’mites but I figger tese beetles might be good onna skewer over a fi…”
– Oh! Right! He means that.–
“Uh. * HEM * Yeh. Looks lika stair. Prolly got a lockt door an mebbe evin trapt givin what y’ said. I woudnt go in tere b’fore it’s okied by-ya ekspert.”
Thwip nods at Jabril’s wish to take point and look for trouble. “Okie. I’ll cover ya.”
He stop and thinks for a second before adding, “I’m hopin’ t’ find sum excitement too. Ifin I finda new insekt speshees or new typa dor-hinge I’ll tell y’ first.”
He prepares his equipment, wishing he had brought more parchment with him. Who knows? There might be a new research paper down there! We would all be so lucky.
As Thwip and Nic light their lantern and torch, Aronn begins fiddling with his hair. After pulling it into a rough topknot, he brushes his hand over it and mutters a few words. As he does so, the topknot begins to glow brightly.
Heading downstairs, Jibrīl leads the way, with Hawk and Thwip close behind and Thwip’s lantern providing light. Ranar and de Courcy accompany Aronn at the rear.
At the bottom of the stairway, a short passageway (about two yards wide) leads to the west. At the end of this passageway is a door.
After examining the door carefully, Jibrīl declares that it appears to be untrapped, and that there is no apparent locking mechanism. The door is constructed so that it can swing inwards, but not outwards, and appears to provide a very tight seal; perhaps airtight.
Carefully pushing on the door, Jibrīl finds that it easily swings inwards, despite the tight seal; the hinges appear almost frictionless. Stopping after opening it a crack, Jibrīl calls Thwip forwards with the lantern. Peering through the crack reveals another westwards passageway beyond the doors, of the same width but apparently longer than the short corridor at the bottom of the stairs.
(Player cue: heading on in? Keeping the same marching order?)
– This is designed to keep things in and not keep them out, or I’m a pinkie’s uncle.–
He gestures at the door frame to Jibril. “We nee’ t’ finda wei t’ keep tis opin or will be callin’ tis place home.Ow bout we open ‘er all t’ wei an’ ten wedge m’ ‘Collapsible Rod And Chain Device For Adventuresome Sentients’ in t’ frame t’ see iffit holds?”
As Thwip fiddles with the hinges, the rest of you peer down the corridor (which heads east-west, with you all standing at the eastern end). The far end of the passage is lost in the gloom, but about ten yards west of the door you can see that a pair of archways lead off from the main corridor, heading north and south. There are no apparent doors closing them off, but from here you can’t see down them.
“We’re looking for a small box, about yea big” says Aronn, holding his hands a foot apart as he steps through the door, leaning on his staff as usual.
As soon as he does so, a pair of oversized halberds swing out from the archways, clashing together in the middle of the corridor, blocking the way. As they step from the archways, the holders of the halberds become visible.
Two things are notable about the halberd wielders; firstly, they are fully armoured in plate harness. Secondly, the figures are larger than human scale; they appear to be about eight or nine feet tall.
As Aronn lurches backwards, a voice issues forth. It seems to be coming simultaneously from both figures, and the sound is surprising given their imposing physical appearance. Instead of the deep bass that might have been expected, the voice is instead that of a somewhat querulous old man, speaking in Arabic.
“This is a restricted area; state your name and rank if you are authorised to enter. If you are not authorised to be in this area, leave immediately.”
The figures wait, halberds crossed, completely motionless.
“Loosely translated: Name and rank, please. If you’re not supposed to be here, sod off or we’ll kill you,” he whispers to Ranar.
De Courcy moves his torch back and forth a little, hoping to see a glint of something a little more vulnerable than the guardians’ plate armour shells.
“Hopefully, these things don’t speak Anglish or we might be in for a stabbing,” de Coucey mutters, mainly to himself.
“Lord Arron, you’ve researched this place. Know of anyone who might’ve been authorised to be here?,” his voice still low.
Hawk flinches back as the nine-foot-tall metal men step out. He has had encounters with men wearing metal, and they are never pleasant to deal with. The mine-man Ranar seems to be a rare exception.
Hawks gazes into one of the metal-man’s eyes, but does not see any intelligence staring back. Between that and the voice, it sounds like these are not men at all, but just metal.
Hawk grips his shield and spear readily, and then sends one of the insects in his swarm to crawl up the leg of one of the metal men, sneak through a gap in the armour, seek out flesh, and bite the flesh if it finds any.
“I do not think there is flesh under that metal,” says the Shaman, “but I will have the bugs check. If not, we may not be able to kill it by stabbing through the chest or the eye; if it is inhabited by a spirit, it may not stop moving until torn apart.”
As you all huddle just outside the doorway, the halberdiers remain motionless, blocking the fairly narrow passageway. They do not respond to Jibrīl’s hail.
A beetle from Hawk’s swarm flies towards one of the guards, disappearing through the helmet’s visor. It does not immediately reappear, and the guard does not react.
– Options: These automata are well magicked with at least the intelligence of a guard and attempting to trick them would be pointless. Or they’re so mindless that attempting to trick them would be impossible because they couldn’t understand that you’re tricking them. Like the bouncers at a pub. Since they have no way of knowing the current state of the military they must just be waiting for a name and rank that matches the list in whatever they have for minds. –
He has some experience in making machines explode, but not with his words alone. He doubts this plan but Thwip feels that he should try something. A fight at the front door would be detrimental to everyone if there are injuries and they’re facing more danger ahead. He speaks in Arabic.
“Do vee all haff to state our namez undt rankz? Andt vich names undt ranks are you lookink for?”
