The party ventures forward, with Mason and J’hal hanging back, to watch the rear of the motley procession, with the smell of burnt hairy bugs lingering in the tunnel. Grigori lights up his shield, a cool lavender glow to guide them with some nice relaxation-ambience.
After a few hours of smooth, uneventful (save a somewhat-soggy Toki) travel, they arrive to a sort-of domed Y-junction, for the aqueduct. Rorvik informs the everyone that, despite having been petrified for centuries, last he knew, Ryth Tower stood to the left, and the other channel travels much farther, towards Risuca, the “Sleeping City”. The party opts to first explore Ryth Tower, and take the opportunity to rest up. After another hour or so or travel, they reach what appears to be a small basin area, under what was certainly Ryth Tower…where a rusty chain, an old bucket still attached, reaches ~25 feet up…a slight glimmer of sunlight detected above. A stairway also meanders along the side of the basin room, but the party instead, takes the chain. Toki clambers up with ease, barely fitting their stout Dwarven frame through the mouth of the well, which opens into a weathered, furnished room, which had clearly seen battle—evidenced by the handful of dwarven skeletons, littering the room, as well as some darkened iron crossbow bolts. Aside from that, the coast appears clear, and the rest of the group climb after to assess the situation. Out of all the beat up equipment amidst the centuries dead skeletons, Bugsy finds an axe that has somehow retained its luster, and exceptional Dwarven craftsmanship. Fork flirts with Isaac, and easily encourages him to assist her with scrapping much of the beat-up furniture, in the hope of assembling a crude raft, for their eventual journey down the rest of the aqueduct.
The door to the stairway below has a few hack-marks in it, and a rug below it. There is a tall, sturdy stairway that runs upstairs another ~30 feet, in a 90° bend, to two landings, the topmost which, has another door, with a rug. Grigori accompanies Toki upstairs. He swears, he saw the rug move—and is chastized for having already had too much to drink. Nevertheless, Grigori fires a crossbow bolt at the rug—which springs to life, lunging at the Cleric of Fharlanghn. The rug downstairs acts in kind, and the party engages in a brief skirmish with the two rugs of smothering, felling them as quickly as they lurched forward.
The group continues upward, beyond the door at the top of the landing, ascending a long and winding stair way. After ten or so exhaustive minutes, they finally emerge to a stupendous view, a completely flat, polished platform, with five-tall pillars and a likewise-flat ceiling above, overlooking the outskirts of Trelth to the East, the Shimmering Peaks to their South and West, and very far to the Northwest, a strange, glimmering, high above and distinctly separate from the abundance of shimmering, jagged fulgurites, littering the desert below them as far as their eyes can see. On the center of the ceiling, about ~25 feet above them, is a metal hatch. Bugsy casts a Mage Hand, which unwinds the hatch, and tugs it open. A metal slide ladder immediately descends with a clang and the group climbs up, to see a wrecked sort of battlement, blasted inward by a great external force—some of the debris having a similar, frothy sheen to them. Littered among the fragments of stone, is an utterly-ravaged journal, of one Ryth Feldspar, which Bugsy locates. Barely legible, Grigori translates the few entries he can manage, to Bugsy. The gist of it: Ryth laments the fall of his people to the wretched dragons, but swears til dying breath, to use his axe to slay any and all who sought to harm his people.
Bugsy sends his owl down to retrieve Mason and J’hal, who return as the group makes camp for the late afternoon/evening. Their rest is interrupted, around sunset, by the noise of footsteps, on Morticia’s watch. She has her cat, Wednesday, wake the others, peeking down the hatch. She notices three, deceptively long shadows, moving about below. Bugsy, again, sends Grandpa down and around to see three goblins, wearing some amazing spelunking gear, likely prowling about the tower looking for treasures. They pull the ladder up, and after some failed persuasions, manage to convince, or at the very least, foment disinterest within the treasure hunting goblins, who finally scurry away.
The group finishes their resting, undisturbed—except for Bugsy…