Of course, use them when you need them, Maglin says about the potions, not having stopped his work.
After a moment, he holds up the other dagger, sheathing it and offering it to Simon. I suspect this knife's a good deal better than one of your Kukris. It's enchanted.
Maglin resumes his examination, talking softly to himself while he works. Eighteen broadhead arrows...very finely made, maker's sign faintly carved on each one...enchanted. He looks up for a moment, these arrows are magic, Simon, I suggest you put them in your quiver for now, though I'd prefer if we could sell them instead of using them. Then Maglin is right back to work, ...short sword, several decorative fullers...twenty inch blade, minimal distal taper...finely made edge...large morningstar...acid etchings on the handle...hollow handle...forge welded high quality steel on iron spikes...pommel unscrews...throwing axe...quality stained oak handle...initials on the base, belonged to "E.B."...extremely thin and tapering head, odd...ahah, it's enchanted. Maglin looks up again, this axe is also quite magical. He turns to Cain, Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't think you'd want to use this, mainly because it's quite small for a two handed weapon. Dalkk, Vuzi, is this something you could potentially use?
It's more valuable sold, but that's not exactly an option right now, so until then we might as well get something out of it.
Vance is nearby and soon approaches the pile of loot. He neels beside Dalkk and Maglin and starts helping with the calculations and identification process. If you had any reason to doubt that he as once a merchant it is dispelled by his knowledge of the gear and suggestions on where to sell it.
There's a dwarven logging mission on the north side of the island that might pay a premium for that ax... I know a guy that collects custom armor. That dwarf half-plate would be right up his alley...
He looks longingly at the potion of remove disease. One of those would have been nice, you know,... Before.
Shuffles sideways to make room when Vance approaches. While putting the last bits away the dwarf casually mentions in the same tone used when simply pointing out that someone dropped a copper "Then just come back to life." The dwarf continues not giving much weight to what nugget of gold he just offered. "Cain Marko-Cain seems a lil' out o'it to take first watch. I suppose I can handle it."
That fella Ulman kept goin' on aboot it." The dwarf refuses to stop working just to talk, and seems mildly annoyed at having to speak at any real length. "Wouldnae be cheap ta be sure, but you know enuff o' ta economy ta realize that." Dalkk makes a wild estimation about Vance being able to afford it with more spoils like this one.
"Thar be some points of concern to be sure, but you weren't useless today. If ye keep aiding us, ye could pay for yer life yerself, if ye can live that long." Without a shread of sympathy the dwarf points out that he isn't sure how to heal Vance at the moment, since he's pretty sure traditional healing will destroy the ghoul, even if he is the friendly type. "If'n ye really are keen to return though, ye best do everything that Green Witch says. That's yer new Mum, without her help, ye go back to the way ye were when we found ye. At which point, we'll kill you and loot yer corpse. Until then, if yer any good with armor, shield, or sword, ye should set some'o this aside for yerself tomorrow."
Cain's psycrystal decides to speak up at the mention of watches "yeah the boss man's ready for a nap, but I'm wide awake. If anyone teies to ambush us I'll make sure they regret it! Just show me at 'em"
Marco sighs at the noise of the small rock "he doesn't need to sleep.... and if something happens he's sure to make a lot of noise...
Vance listens to Dalkk with wide eyes. He turns to Vuzi and gasps, Is it true? Can the monster be expelled? Can I really earn a second chance?
"It iz possible. Ve vill look into it. For de moment you must not fight my spell ven I cast it. If you manage to resist, de vill kill you because you vill try to eat us."
She takes the light steel shield, but leaves the rest of the items alone.
Vance nods. I understand.
After squaring away the rest of the loot Dalkk aids the party in setting camp. "Magsy ye dinnae sleep much do ye? Cain Marko-Cain's friendly little buddy and our life challenged companion can keep through the night. How's aboot me and the kittens keep up. I'll prepare what I can now. After ye wake and prepare yourself we'll rest. Ye will have only a few hours alone with the insomniacs 'fore Green and the other wake up. Should give her plenty o'time to do what she needs with her friend. Then Simon and I will be up shortly after "
"Dat sounds like a very good plan. Ve are sleeping in the hallway or de room?"
Correct, I don't need to sleep very long, so that sounds like a fine plan. Maglin pokes around looking for a nice sleeping spot before getting a few things from L'nshapd.
First, he drapes a whistle with a leather loop across his neck. Next, he takes out his spellbook and places it on the ground beside his designated sleeping space. Beside it he arranges the small alchemical crafting kit he carries everywhere, his spell component pouch, and his crossbow and ammunition. Finally, he lays out his bedroll over top of his blanket. Still wrapped in his long magical cloak, Maglin crawls into the warm covers and falls asleep quickly.
"E'ryone save the kittens in the big room." Dwarf walks about following Maglin's lead and setting out the tools he'll need and the remainder of the ration hr started in on earlier today.
He continues in Orc with the laugh of a madman afterwards.
Once Simon gets mostly settled into place and those on first watch are comfortable that there is no immediate danger Dalkk starts on refreshing his Mutagen. This is his most important of mixtures and is treated with almost religious reverence. It may be peculiar to watch him work. The dwarf is almost always covered in dirt and grime, but here each and every tool is spotless. His hands and flasks are obsessively cleaned at every opportunity.
After taking a few moments to check in with his shift mates he returns to his work. Recent memories of stiff muscles inspires Dalkk to work on something to combat that effect. He samples the herbs and fungi with him and dilutes down that with the most sour tastes.
Maglin tosses and turns under his covers, trying to fall asleep. The pain in his side seems to have grown, so that it's now constant and stabbing. Before, when he was still walking around and investigating, he'd been able to put on a brave face and forget about it, but now lying with his eyes open and the ceiling above him, it serves as a constant, agonizing reminder of his mortality.
I don't want to die.
The thought is deafening, crowding out all others. Maglin's heart rate begins to rise. He doesn't move, lying frozen, transfixed by thoughts of the Dungeon of Graves, deepest and darkest of the hellish underground realms which mortals ought never to enter. Slowly, a weight begins to gather over his chest. The bedroll which had seemed cozy and comforting a moment before now feels confining and unescapable. The ceiling looms, shadowy and impossibly heavy, threatening to crush them all. We're already buried alive.
A vision comes. A living man lies perfectly still on a table, Maglin preparing him for entombment. He wraps the man tightly in claustrophobic linen sheets, layering them over and over until they're thick and heavy. He works quickly, nervously, afraid to look at the man's eyes. Somehow, Maglin knows they're closed, and that the man hasn't noticed what's happening to him yet. It would be a terrible mistake to start with the face. Maglin runs out of linen, hands empty, the thick white outline of the man quickly receding down a long dirt hallway. And Maglin is running, running from something dark and terrible, sprinting until he can feel his breath like daggers in his sides. He closes his eyes, leaning forward and running until first his mind and then his body fade away to nothing.
IT WAS ME ON THE TABLE. Maglin's eyes snap open, head thrashing side to side furiously, the rest of his body completely immobilized. It is impossible to make even a sound. He bares his teeth and tries to bite the wrappings, but something warm and heavy forces his head down. And then comes another roll of linen, this time wet, wrapping his neck and chin first, forcing his mouth open in an endless, silent scream. His nose is forced shut, trapping the last breath he will ever take burning in his lungs. His eyes are saved for last. They furiously search for something to save him, nearly popping out of their sockets in desperation. The linen finally comes. Maglin's eyes still move under the first layer as another and then another is wrapped around it. And then he is rolled down an endless dark staircase, the sound of a demon's cackling raining down from above.
Maglin's eyes snap open, head turning to one side, his breath heavy and silent. For one utterly glorious second, Maglin feels nothing but relief, back arching, head rolling back onto the soft pillow of wool, glad to have finally woken up. And then the darkness closes in once again. It is quiet, like it was in the dream, far quieter than it should be. Where are the sounds of Dalkk and Simon talking quietly? Have they fallen asleep? Another, darker thought worms its way slowly into Maglin's mind, laying the seeds of dread. Ghouls have an infectious touch, corrupting all those they wound. He dares not turn his head to look beside him, afraid of what he might find.
Are they looking at me? He closes his eyes quickly, evening out his breathing. They hadn't pounced yet, they must not have heard him wake up. He must not move, he must wait until they left, drawn away by fresh sacrifices adventuring in this domain of the damned. Why had they come in the first place? They had died pitifully soon, barely exploring one room on only the second level down before succumbing to a few walking corpses. The worst denizens of the deepest levels would scorned his feeble attempts at magic. And they would have tortured him terribly, using magic to make him immortal. Down, down they would take him, to hot furnaces and boiling cauldrons, into which he would be thrown to drown for all eternity. He could see it now, his own fingertips reaching for the surface, straining to get relief. How much did it hurt when he barely singed those fingers making tea at home? How much more would lungs full of fire feel? The thoughts make him shudder visibly.
Did the ghouls see that? Suddenly all thoughts of demons are gone, Maglin's mind is focused purely on the present danger. Lub dub. Was that the sound of footsteps? They seemed to be getting closer and closer with each moment, Lub Dub. The one two step of a ghoul, stealthily approaching a sleeping figure, ready to bite. Lub Dub. No, it was his mind playing tricks on him, that must be it, only an auditory illusion. He exhales softly, feeling sweet relief.
Lub dub. That was no illusion. Maglin stops breathing, that must be what they heard a moment ago. He hears the footfalls clearly every few seconds, lub dub, lub dub, they must be getting closer. It is a small room, they must be right over him by now, that must be why they sound so much clearer. Lub Dub, maybe they were just wandering around, maybe they still hadn't noticed him yet, he must be utterly silent. Maybe he could live. Maglin's lungs begin to burn. Lub Dub, the covers offer no protection, only trapping him in place, the ghouls will bite and scratch and claw at his immobile face. Lub Dub...Lub Dub, his lungs feel shriveled and deflated, desperate for more air, Lub Dub...Lub Dub, they have gotten so much closer since they were on top of him, the final blow must be seconds away,
It's your heart, stupid. Maglin breathes again, gently, the soft, even breaths of sleep. There were no ghouls. His friends were alive, they had seemed healthy when he went to sleep, and that was only a few hours ago. He opens his eyes slowly, carefully, and turns to one side. There is a ghoul lying next to him, grinning.
Maglin stares in surprise, hoping it will vanish. It doesn't. He can see the rotted features quite clearly, and the long, blonde hair framing her face. None of the people he came down here with had blonde hair. She was an elf, a beautiful, sweet elven maid, with sunlight in her hair and lissom limbs of silver. Lips, so soft and full in life, now dry and stretched impossibly wide across a row of sharpened teeth. Maglin closes his eyes and turns away. It is Lindir.
He had had a good life. A long life, longer than the life of any human, and with at least as much joy and sadness. She had been his shining star, his sweet savior, and the love of his life. The reason to go to bed early each night was so that he could wake up next to her each morning, and if now that he had woken up next to her again she wanted to eat him, that would be alright. He would go peacefully.
I love you, she whispered in his ear. And she is soft and warm and alive in his arms again. And then she's gone.
Maglin opens his eyes, now finally and completely awake. Simon and Dalkk sit can be seen at the mouth of a long tunnel, leaning against the wall and chatting softly in the light of the magical torch. Maglin turns to the other side, feeling very lonely. Vuzi and Cain seem so far away, sleeping on the other end of the room. Silent tears rolling down his cheeks, Maglin sits up and pulls off his wedding ring with shaky fingers. He looks down at it, so small and meaningless in the palm of his hand.
I want to die.
Vuzi makes her preparations for sleep. She pulls out her bedroll, and sets it up not far from the others. She settles down for the night after eating some rations, and drinking a bit of wine. "I think I deserve that tonight."
She talks Vance quietly before settling in. "Do vhat Dalkk and Simon ask you to. Dey vant you to make it out of here, and so do I."
Simon takes the finely crafted dagger from Maglin, probing the sharpness of its edge by running it along his fluffy arms, barely close enough to connect to the hair. A stream of cut hair follows the path of the dagger, leaving a streak of fur that is a hair's breath shorter than the surrounding.
"Wow-meow!
You're right. This edge is unnaturally sharp.
Good thing, they didn't use it against us-mehmehmeh!"
As the part finally settles down, Simon looks at the slaughterhouse that surrounds the area near the secret door were they made their stand. The bodies (and the parts) have to go before he will be comfortable.
"Dalkk, are you okay if I take your mount for a little work? I want to clear this mess, carry them over to the hall we came down-meow.
It's unhealthy to sleep so close to dead, rotten and unholy bodies-frch.
And they will get in our way if we have to fight again, slippery and uneven ground aren't the best conditions for a fight..."
Simon, Emily and the big lizard with the unpronounceable name work for half an hour. Simon uses his fishing net to allow Emily and the lizard to drag a bunch of undeads at a time behind them on each run. As they finally are done, he clears the area with more water, wincing at the stream of curses coming from the dwarf who obviously had some problems with his alchemistic project.
Finally he walks down the corridor to the main hall once again, a bell and lots of wire in his hands. Using loose stones, small sticks and the wire, he builds a very basic alarming trap at the height of his knees - high enough to not get triggered by small rays, but by anything larger, like a dire rat or another undead coming this way.
There is one encounter with a couple of dire rats in the middle of the night, but they are easily dispatched. The night is otherwise uneventful.
Maglin worms his way out of his bedroll, crawling out of the world of dreams and back into the hard reality of the present situation. He slips his ring back on quickly, shaking his head once and resolving not to slip back into dark thoughts. He is covered in sweat, and removes his magical cloak, letting it sit on top of his bedroll for a moment while he quietly gathers his things one by one, not wanting to wake the others. Standing straight, Maglin mutters a few arcane words and snaps his fingers once, slowly cleaning himself and his belongings with magic. With them go the last fragments of his dreams, now fading to a dim and distorted memory.
Maglin shoulders his pack silently and moves to join Dalkk and Simon. Can I have a little water, Simon? He says, extending an alchemical vial. His hand is shaky, but his face looks brave and resolved.
Sitting down beside Dalkk, Maglin takes a look at the work he's been doing to try to craft something. Looks like you were missing a few ingredients, but it wouldn't be like you to start without an exacting account of what you needed. Did someone interrupt you midway through?
Settling into the initially simple task of stirring a small container of liquid, Maglin's mind begins to wander. He's still somewhat unnerved, and can't shake the one wonderful moment just before waking, when he heard Lindir's voice again for the first time in a long time. That hadn't been what she looked like just before dying, she'd been frail and thin, with wispy hair and shadowy eyes. But even then, she'd smiled through parched lips and put on a brave face, until things got really bad. Maglin shakes his head, not wanting his memory to go any further, and looks down to find that he's been stirring the wrong substance the whole time.
He succeeds in making nothing more than a mess.
Maglin eyes Cain and his pet rock as he takes his spellbook from L'nshpad, sitting back down with his back to the wall and leafing through the pages. Any thoughts on the first day down in the deep dark dungeon? he asks, smiling weakly.
Vuzi wakes the next morning. "Vere did the dead go?" She asks as she sees the piles of ghouls and zombies is gone.
"Are ve continuing down the hallway to the east or go back to de doors to de north?" Vuzi asks as she puts her beadroll away, and snacks on some rations. She creates some water to wash with, and offers to fill any empty water skins for the group.
Marco is likely the last ones awake and he groans loudly as he does so, stiff and achy as he gets up and joins the others, answering Maglin's question "it was... exciting... more populated than I expected.... I was expecting less ecosystem and more traps and frustrating twisty passages..... it makes me wonder how some of the creatures here are able to sustain such numbers down here.... what are the rats and gargoyles eating.... bah, Not important, so long as the answer isn't us"
Skeets, his "pet rock" seems to scoff at this "I'd like to see them try to eat me! I'd break their teeth off! Just you watch!
As Maglin joins them only an hour into the first watch, Simon musters him with big, blue eyes.
"Magsi, you look bad-meow.
I warned you about sleeping down there, bad dreams are the least to expect.
Here, take some fresh water, clean your face and mouth and the evil of the night will vanish-purrurr."
At that very moment, Emily growls and a faint ring of a bell warns those awake of the incoming danger. Rising quickly and arming themselves, the few dire rats that hoped for a meal quickly end as a midnight snack for Emily themselves.
As the danger is dealt with, Simon spits on the ground with obvious despise.
"They really don't know when they're not invited-frchgrr."
Luck has it that the rest of the night passes without further interruptions and Simon will sleep long, as most of the others after the strenuous last day.
At Vuzis question Simon raises a paw.
"That was me-purrur.
Seemed like a bad idea to let the dead rot just beside our resting place.
No one knows what evil diseases they carried in their bodies-brrrch.
Emily, La.. L'shh.. Dalkks friend did the most of the job and carried them over to the big hall-meow."
"A wise plan Simon."
"Morning Marco. I think it's morning, anyway. You too Skeets." Her greensting scorption tattoo rises off her body, and goes to visit with Skeets before the group heads out for the day.
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Skeets squees and excitement at the site of the tattoo scorpion and immediately starts to float directly above the arachnid " yes! A mighty steed for me to ride into battle!"
Maglin washes his face at the advice of Simon, then dries it with a wave of his hand. Thanks. Maglin smiles weakly, tucking his long hair behind his ears and taking a drink of water from the now filled vial. It is the first time you've seen him consume anything. I'm quite alright, not the first bad dream I've had, won't be the last, I'm sure. He shakes his head at these last words, and his face seems to fall. The corners of his mouth turn down, and he looks at the floor for a moment. You haven't seen him this emotional before.
Right, he says bravely, looking back up with new determination, this place might be the end of us, but it won't make our deeds not have been done. He seems almost convinced. Get some rest, I'll see you in the morning.
Maglin then turns back to his work.
We have very narrowly avoided catastrophe. We were exploring on the second level, and found a hidden door, behind which lay a tunnel into a pit full of screaming, clawing, gnashing ghouls. They were silent at first, and hid still in the shadows, so that we did not see them. On account of Thulian, the ghast with which we have been travelling, we were already acclimated to the smell. This helped us fight harder, for it is a well documented fact that the stench of a ghoul makes the eyes water and the legs weaker. But it also prevented us from detecting our foes until we had walked right into the middle of a great number, so that we were surrounded.
I saw something that I have never seen before today: first Dalkk and then Vuzi were utterly frozen in place, so that they could not move a muscle. I had read about the paralyzing effect of ghouls before, but it was still unsettling to actually see a dwarf not even flinch when a ghoul tasted his throat. I also remembered reading that elves such as myself were immune to this paralysis, and so I deliberately made myself vulnerable in order to draw one of their attentions away from my allies. I have received my first real wound, a small gash on my side. I will wear the scar with pride, for I did not abandon my allies, nor did I stop fighting until the last of the ghouls was killed. We are all alive and substantially enriched, but only time will tell if any of us have contracted ghoul fever.
I saw someone else, in a dream, who I have not seen since another fateful dream which led to my journeying here. Lindir, who smiled like a ghoul, but whispered like she was still alive. I caught a glimpse of her face, which I shall draw later, to pass the time, and so that I may never forget.
The details are already graven in my mind. I will never forget, even if I live to be a thousand.
Even if I want to.
1st Watch (3 to 4 Hours)
Dalkk crafts (1 hour) and preps Mutagen (not sleep dependent but takes an hour) while keeping watch
Simon and Emily keep watch
Maglin gets his 2hrs and 1 hour spell prep
Cain and Vuzi both get 1st half of sleep
2nd Watch (4 to 5 Hours)
Maglin stays up with the PsiCrystal and Vance. If backup is needed wakes Dalkk, Simon/Emily, Others in that order
Vuzi and Cain finish their sleep without interruption
3rd Watch (3 to 4 Hours)
Maglin up
Vuzi and Cain up and plenty of time to prepare anything they need to prepare
Dalkk and Simon/Emily finish their sleep without interruption
Maglin is still sitting in the hallway when Vuzi and Cain wake up, and seems to be drawing something in his notebook, but he snaps it shut before you can see the picture. His robe is drawn tight and stylishly around him, his face the picture of composure you are used to.
To be honest, I was also expecting fewer monsters and more bare rock. I thought my spells would last far longer than just a few minutes, but I suppose I was thinking wrong. Perhaps things will be different lower down. Maglin stands up, stretching, and puts away the rest of his things, which are still out from his earlier work, while he talks. I also wonder what they eat, but never for too long. Clearly they aren't starving, so they're eating something, and that's the end of that. Maglin folds his arms and leans back, trying to get comfortable. It's difficult.
I suggest the east passage. I think it's better to keep moving in this direction than turn around in circles. Maglin approaches the others, pack still on the ground, but before we do that, someone had better take a close look at our wounds to see if we've got ghoul fever. That would be a very unpleasant way to die.
Maglin opens his now mended robe, exposing the small spot where the ghoul slashed him. He systematically helps Simon examine each of the others for any signs of the disease. Maglin also tries to get a general sense of their wounds, and how much magical healing everyone will require.
Simon shudders at the prospect of an infectious touch of the undead.
With the help of Maglin, Dalkl and Vuzi he starts to look over the wounds of every one party member. After being satisfied that someone is ok, he will produce the healing wand he bought from the old, friendly lady in the town despite his own healing powers, and sends a stream of healing over everyone to heal those remaining wounds ...
Sleeping quite soundly on the far edge of the room lies a peculiar sight. The overgrown reptile is closest to the wall and a short trunk like arm rests over the Dwarf. In turn the Dwarf plays both big and little spoon as a short branch like arm rests on a goat held close to himself. The communal snoring comes to an abrupt stop as the group startles awake.
He yawns and stretches while making his way to the rest of the party, putting his tunic back on. He stops and watches Skeets and the Scorpion play about, one of the few things that would bring a smile to his face. When he gets back to where everyone has gathered "Save yer fancy beds, ain't nuffin quite like a good stone floor to help ye sleep like the dead."
"It's likely the ooze. Thar be all kinds of ooze and fungus and molds down here. No shortage of bugs. Bugs eat 'ta goo, rats eat 'ta bugs, bigger rats eat the smaller rats, Cain Marco-Cain eats the bigger rats, and then something dies when they try to eat him. Mos' important part there is first, always comes back to the molds." Dalkk taps his journal where he keeps records of such discoveries, reflecting briefly on how much more comfortable his stone floor is back home.
The dwarf gathers his possessions after preparing a few vials for the day. He takes a look towards Vance once he has crossbow in hand, making no effort to be discreet and keeping it at the ready. "Yer Mum top ye' off yet today?"
Vance looks very confused as the party packs up and starts toward the first unopened door on the left.
What? Top me off? And my mother lives very far from here... what?
Dalkk clenches the butt of the crossbow tighter to his shoulder. The recent encounter of ghoul induced paralysis fresh in his mind has given him a very itchy trigger finger. He shouts and exudes a very sharp and harsh collection of syllables.
"Vance come over here for a minute." She gives Dalkk a telling glance, and then moves away from the others with Vance.
"Please do not fight." She casts Command Undead.
Vance's eyes cross, and for a moment he looks hungry, but your magic quickly overtakes him.
Ahhh. That's better.
The first door on the left opens to three dire rats backed into the back of a room filled with tattered rags and sticks as over thirty dire rat babies squeal and rush for cover.
She clasps Vance on the shoulder. "Dat's what he meant my mum. Glad you are still with us."
Vuzi detects magic in the room, but doesn't get close enough to provoke the babies. "Ve shall see if there iz magical in de room."
There is no magic.
Dalkk takes in the room, scanning the walls and rags for anything that may be hidden or protected.
Dalkk slaps his hand on the elfs back. If Maglin were shorter it would of been his shoulder. "I'm all for being thorough but they look harmless enough to be left alone. Besides, I think the lad could use a win." Dalkk jerks his head to Simon. "Ye know how he gets aboot needless killing." The dwarf makes absolutely no attempt to be discreet with the words he uses. "Also, if'n we let them grow up before slicing them to bits Cain Marco Cain can have a bigger dinner"
Cain rolls his eyes at the comment about his willingness to eat rats "I don't plan on being down here long enough for them to grow large. By then hopefully we'll back in civilization with bags of gold eating roast duck and drinking fine wines out of golden goblets"
For his part, Vance looks like he understands now that Vuzi has suppressed his more nommy urges.
The next room seems to be a storage and coffin building room. Along the walls lie piles of wood and tools, neatly stacked. A large box sits in the center of the Room. Various carpentry equipment used for making coffins is stored here, including 120 8 ft. long 2x4s, 3 hammers, 2 saws, one axe, a chisel and 10,000 rusty but usable nails in an iron box. None of it is magical.
I'd prefer a silver goblet myself, there's something more appealing about silver. Maglin puts away the bomb he'd drawn at the sight of the rats, walking into the room and scanning it quickly. Vilumen, he mutters to himself, eyes glinting suddenly green.
We should probably still kill the fully grown rats. As far as I can tell there is no reason to let them live, and there might be three more rats attacking us later if we do. Maglin takes a look at the box in the centre of the room from a distance, afraid it something dangerous might pop out of it. We might want to build something at some point, it's a good idea to keep these supplies in mind.
Maglin moves back to the door, ready to move on. Let's investigate the next room, I don't think there's anything in here.
Reflecting on the lessons learned in the wilds, Simon will try his best to treat the most lethal-appearing wounds of the dwarf and himself in the morning.
He finds two helpful hands from Dalkk and Maglin in addition to the calling for Gozreths help .
The touches of the soft-pawed Catfolk only makes you flinch once or twice, then the wounds are bandaged and disinfected by herbs and a little bit of clean water and alcohol. In combination with the magic healing from the magic wand, it makes the horror of the last night (?) mostly forgotten (at least by the body - the mind will surely take longer to forget the unholy fight).
+++ After breaking camp +++
Already the first door holds a surprise - a rat nest with lots of babies and their mothers in a defensive stance in front of them. If it were not for the fact that these are rats, Simons heart surely would melt by this sight. As it is, his expression simply turns mild - even more so on Dalkks speech.
"Your right Dalkk-purrur.
Killing these innocent creatures would nothing but barbaric."
As Maglin steps back and grabs for his weapons, Simon growls audibly.
"Killing their mothers is just a cruel way of killing the babies as well-frch!
These rats did not prove a major danger for us in the last encounters...
It were the unholy undead that did-rrfrch.
These rats are more at home down here than we are and have as much right to live as we do.
Sure their elders tried to hunt us earlier - but lost and paid the price-meow.
Now come and let them be, there is so much evil and cruelty down here already, no need to commit one more ourself."
With a last few hushing sound and calming gestures towards the rat-mothers, he turns and leaves the room, eager to get to the next.
This locked door is easily opened. Everything is this room is smashed, but is kept in a neat pile by a magical broom that sweeps everything into the center of the room. The broom sweeps continuously and on command (“sweep”). It could be sold to an upper-class housekeeper or to a curio collector for 750 gp.
Cain definitely has his bone spikes ready to launch if the rats should make any hostile acts, but he's easily convinced to go around them by the hunter.
He laughs at the sight of the broom,
Very well, if it would cause you distress, Simon, I shall assent to leaving the rats be. Maglin moves on to the next room, assisting Simon in opening the lock.
This is an odd sight. but one I'm happy to see. We've got a fairly impressive haul already, if not for the gargoyles I'd be surprised at the ratio of treasures to things that can kill us. Maglin backs out of the room, ready to move to the next one without pausing.
I hope the rest of the rooms on this floor are equally helpful.
Vuzi grabs the broom. "Dis is nice." She carries it with her, and will lean on it to rest. "You never know when one wants to sweep something."
A large sigh comes from the constantly disgruntled dwarf "Now see what ye done ye've upset the lad, just what I was trying to avoid. Can ye imagine the speech we'd hafta hear if'n we actually killed ta rats?"
Dalkk would pick up and add to his lizard companions a reasonable number of nails, hammer, and more manageable smaller boards.
Dalkk studies the broom with much suspicion and clenches his crossbow tight.
He looks around the room and the level of mess both here and in the hall. He consults with their resident wizard with deep concern. "Magsy... Be there anyway to determine how long tha' brooms been at'it? Someone must've turned it on and I'd like ta know how long ago, and how close, they might be." Dalkk being fairly familiar with filth, although admittedly less so with cleaning, first tries to determine if the broom just started its duties in here or was nearing the end. Next he checks the hall looking for a barrier of clean and dirty floor to determine if the broom was making its way from one side of this entire level to the other, and if so which direction it came from.
(+2 stonework not included if applicable)
The dwarf approaches the furious furred fighter next "Simon, can ye or Emily tell if anything or anyone besides us have been through here, or how long they may of left?"
There is no telling how long the broom has been sweeping, but it hasn't left the room, of that you're sure.
There are many tracks here through the grime and dust of varying number, species, and age. It's impossible to tell exactly what may be nearby.
You open the next door to an odd sight. Cain had heard someone speaking, but the thick wooden doors of the dungeon make all but the most distinct sounds hard to accurately recognize.
Four large monsters, ogres, are crouched around four rows of neatly stacked copper coins. The door grabs their attention and they grab their weapons!
Maglin looks away from the ogres quickly, obviously disgusted. One of the ogres suddenly explodes, flames filling the space around him. Apparently, Maglin has already thrown a bomb, and now he's turned around and is jogging back up the hall. We want them in the hallway, he turns around, feet planted, voice even, clear the space around the door.
Ogres have no special defenses or abilities beyond super human strength, toughness, and cruelty, but that is often plenty.