DM Panic's Scourge of the Slavelords Prologue

Game Master wakedown

"Aye, ye're close to a woman, Briar Elf. Pretty hair'n all. Closer'n me."

Mobled trudges onward, taking the lead on Doruk's suggested route.

Martigan trudges along, doing his best to stay dry.

"Keep your eye open Doruk, where there's one roper there might be more."

Mukluk itches his ass.

Mukluk's action seems to be enough to stir the Gods, as a low rumble shakes deep under the earth causing some of the rock to fall from the high ceiling in the water-filled cave.

Following Doruk's advice, the party follows their steps back into the original cave where they first made their descent into the Glitterhame.

Unfortunately, his promises of "not getting too wet" come up short for both dwarves, as navigating south into the next chamber involves a fair amount of deeper water, stooping under natural rock and a little bid of "dwarf paddling".

As Mobled scrambles to find her footing of the far side, Doruk joins her and holds his illuminated shield (courtesy of Martigan refreshing the spell) aloft to get a good look at this new cavern. Everyone feels a bit chilly from their brief foray into the swift stream.

The ceiling here must be 30 feet overhead and the far end is lost in total darkness. A foul stench "greets" your nostrils immediately. Someone or something lives here; the remnants of butchered game animals hang from crude wooden stakes along the cavern walls, and you spot a pair of orc corpses treated in similar fashion.

Suddenly, two grotesque figures - fierce, scaly-skinned humanoids like those encountered in the cavern with the bear - leap down from hiding places, brandishing javelins.

"Grr'blok! Thrmm-gruuunk!" one shouts to the other, who appears ready to skewer Mobled. The would-be attacker hesitates and looks back to the other, who appears to be wearing a feathered head-dress of some sort.

This one's eyes narrow as he sizes up Mobled and Doruk and sneers, revealing long vicious teeth. He also wags the end of his javelin a bit, always staying at the edge of light as he attempts some crude Common.

"Murderers leave. This, trog home."

Updated Map

"Cousins of yours Mukluk?"

Tiabrar looks about for more trogs and grips his bow tightly.

Doruk too grips his weapon and looks to Mukluk for a response.

Genocide would be unfortunate, but the Dwarves mean to move back in here. Hopefully they can come to some sort of agreement that doesn't result in much bloodshed.

Mukluk cusses and moves forward.

"How long have you been here? How many of you are there? You willing to be peaceful when the dwarves return? Trade?"

Mukluk repeats that in Terran and Undercommon and Draconic in hopes of finding a better match.

"Trogs ... and pygmy trogs. This could be trouble."

Draconic seems to resonate best with the scaly creatures wearing feathers and furs, and his eyes narrow as you speak in a language he can clearly understand.

/Draconic/
"Bearded one - we know of your kind and the work you do in the forges. We had a deal to let you be and only beat on the toothy ones, but you and your friends broke deal. Glurg'glurk here says you murdered Trub'grrpl, Yurb'grrb and our pet."

He waves the pointy end of the javelin at Mukluk as these words work up his anger.

/Draconic/
"Now - what you want? Why you come here to trog dens? This is our home, not yours!"

Mukluk tries to remember the distant past and the first encounter.

Mukluk scratches his beard trying to remember.

Mukluk pauses then continues.

"Well at least they're talking, that's a change from Trubtrub and Yurbyurb. They just attacked."

The trog scrunches up his face as he works through Mukluk's dwarvish accent laced on top of the draconic tongue.

"You in our home now. You go-go back to forges and leave us be!"

Off in the distant darkness, several of the trog "women" rush their children off into deeper caves.

Mukluk's going to need to make a Diplomacy check to adjust the trogs to something better than unfriendly... or make them hostile.

Tiabrar finally recalls dealing with the creatures earlier in the dwarven home and wonders why Mukluk is not trying to put a pick through their heads.

"What is happening? Are they asking for work as henchmen? Er... henchmonsters? See if they will work for elk burgers."

Mukluk shrugs his shoulders.

"If you want to fight, we fight. If you want to trade and be nice, we be nice."

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8 Diplomacy

Mukluk lets out a fart to punctuate his remarks, assuming from the stench of the trogs that such an offering would be well received.

Seeing the usual Dwarven eloquence at work, Doruk grips his guisarme and prepares for battle.

Mukluk's diplomacy seems to only stir the trog to further anger as he begins to shake his feathered javelin more insistently.

/Draconic/
"No, your kind only know death! You go now, never come to trog-home again! Else we force you!"

The trogs will let you back away and leave their cavern without combat, or else you can attack them. If you move towards their women and children, they will most certainly attack and I can roll initiative.

"Excellent negotiation tactic Mukluk. Might as well pick them now."

Mukluk takes a whiff of this own fart as if to judge the rank nature of it.

Seeming displeased, Mukluk shakes his head.

"Not my best effort. There are no traces of sulfur or egg therein." Mukluk gripes. "No wonder they are in a bad mood when I give them 'weak ass' scents like this."

Mukluk turns to leave in personal disgust.

"I don't suppose any of you could have done better?" Mukluk looks around at the party before settling his eyes on Mobled. "You got any of them good ale farts in you? Or morning fire whiskey farts? The really wet ones? You're usually pretty stanky. Where is your stank now, when we need it?"

If you are departing and leaving the trog tribe to their own devices, you are now left with only two areas to head to...

1. The descent into the deep, dark pit.

2. Tea and scones with the Idalla.

Doruk, relieved he won't be killing any women and children today, backs off.

"I suggest we try the pit. Something about Idalla makes me nervous but I can't put my finger on it. Maybe it's just all Mukluk's carrying on."

Mukluk agrees with going down the pit.

"We have enough rope, right? We're going to need rope."

"What did those troll-a-dites say about the strange magic lady or the powerful dwarven wizard that used to run the place? You pumped thems for information when talking in that kobold language, right?"

"That would have been a good idea, Petrel!" Totally would have been too! if I had thought of it. Mukluk rubs his chin. "Yeah, I guess I passed up a good opportunity. Too bad they weren't in a mood for talking much. See, the way I figure it, we didn't really speak their language...the language of scents and strong smells. I dunno...they weren't friendly enough to really talk to just yet."

The party makes it way back through the Glitterhame and into the Foundry area, passing through the long hallway flanked by the rooms of dead orcs and dwarves alike.

The route to the ladder descending into the pit passes by the old library as well, and Idalla within.

As you reach the corner and pass through a pair of secret doors, you reach the chain ladder that descends over 100 feet to the chasm's bottom.

It's a DC5 climb check to descend. I'll allow taking 10, which should be automatic for anyone without anything over a -5 ACP.

Map of the Foundry - the chain ladder is at (38a), Idalla is sitting in 49.

I'll give you guys a last chance for any preparations before you climb down and will then place whoever is climbing first into what awaits below...

Tiabrar lets someone else lead the way and then follows down the ladder.

Even in his current armor Doruk has a climb of +2. :)

Doruk takes the chains in his hands and straps the Guisarme to his back temporarily as he climbs down. He takes his time (take 10 = 12) and carefully lowers himself into the darkness.

Mukluk waits for Doruk to descend and then Mobled, then will make trip himself. Take 10 = 6.

Petrel will inspect how the chain ladder is secured at the top, and then consider how meaty Mukluk and the various henchmen are.

"Mukluk can you just cast Dwarven Feather Fall on me so I can float to the bottom? Dunno about this ladder."

Mukluk wishes he could, but can't.

"Sorry, Petrel, but my dwarf magic only makes things heavier, like rocks and stone. I can make you fall faster down if you'd like."

Mukluk seems sorry that he can't help Petrel more.

"Oh yeah. That makes sense."

Petrel will descend the ladder as well. Climb is at +6

Good thing we have someone smart like Mukluk with us. Wizard tombs are always filled with tricky puzzles."

"I've seen that spell cast Petrel, suffice to say it only helps at the bottom of the fall."

Cautiously, everyone descends the long chain ladder, which proves to be not as difficult as it appears at first glance. The descend covers over one-hundred feet, and looking down is ill-advised for those with a fear of heights, falling or both.

A thundering spray of water fills the natural chamber at the bottom, pooling and flowing to join a larger river. The air is damp and humid and the roaring of the waterfall is deafening.

Muddy ledges flank the river and are dotted with footprints.

The fast moving underground river roars underneath a pair of old bridges moving from east to west.

From your current position, you can only examine the western-most bridge, which appears to be good, solid dwarven construction.

Your current light source is Doruk's shield, which is granting normal light within 20ft of him, and dim light within 40ft of him.

Khundrukar Cross Section

Latest Map (Black Lake level)

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18 - Knowledge check

Tiabrar glances at the footsteps and then quickly quaffs his mutagen before whispering.

"Mukluk. You're people didn't keep dragons as pets did they?"

Doruk readies his Guisarme and shield at the bottom of the ladder. He then probes the bridge with his Guisarme to ensure it's sound.

He looks over his shoulder, "Where to Mukluk?"

"Tiabrar, did you say something about pet dragons?! That sounds awesome. We should get pet dragons and fly around on them. We could duel in the air with lances! People will look to the sky and see our dragons, our lances and cry out: Joust!"

1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22 Know (nature)

Mukluk points towards 51, his pace slowing just a bit at the dragonsign.

"What? Dragons? Down here? Now that don't make much sense."

Go ahead and make a Knowledge (Arcana) check if you want to identify what kind of dragon you might be dealing with, and it's age.

As you approach the eastern bridge, the stonework can be identified as curiously pitted. In addition, some of the stone blocks are leaning precariously outward.

Let me know how you proceed...

"I don't have any spells that are good at dealing with dragons. Or flying creatures. I suppose if we get Petrel up there he can take care of them."

Knowledge, Dungeoneering 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19 vs DC 18

"Woa, wait everyone. That bridge is not stable. I don't think, in all my gear and armor, I'll make it across without a collapse. Some of you lighter folk might pull it off, but not us heavier guys."

"If we think this area is safe, I could strip down and bundle my gear. Walk across and then drag my gear behind me with the rope. Then gear up again on the other side. That should work as long as we're careful."

"Or we could just go the other way for now and come back to this. There may be another way around."

1d20 + 11 ⇒ (8) + 11 = 19 Know (Arcana)
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20 Know (Dungeoneering)

Mukluk kicks around the tracks, searching for the odd flat rock that he hopes he doesn't find...until his does.

Holding up the scale, Mukluk sighs deeply.

"Ayep. Dragonsign. A black one at that. This ain't good. This ain't good at all. Them black ones aren't good at all."

While continuing to grouse about dragons, Mukluk will confirm Doruk's feelings about the bridge.

"Ayep. That's a bad bridge...it'll hold some, but not all of us, that's for sure. Petrel or the PointedEar might be able to scramble across without danger though."

Mukluk's mind works on the madness of finding the roper and a black dragon in the same ruins.

Grumble.

"Tiabrar, did you say something about pet dragons?! That sounds awesome. We should get pet dragons and fly around on them. We could duel in the air with lances! People will look to the sky and see our dragons, our lances and cry out: Joust!"

"That is a wonderful image. However, right now I'm more concerned with the image of me in the mouth of the black dragon that is wandering around here somewhere."

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24

Doruk takes off his gauntlets and starts to undo his leggings. Then stops.

"A dragon? I'm not getting out of my armor if we think there's a dragon about. Seriously? I don't even have a masterwork weapon, let alone a magical one!"

Doruk gears up and hunkers down.

"So where to from here?"

He peers over his shield into the darkness.

Mukluk scans the darkness, annoyed.

"Our options are increasingly limited. That stupid roper. And that tart bedroom strumpet. And now a dragon, a freakin' dragon in our newly re-taken forge. Surely, Moradin won't want to make this easy on us...he's going to be proud when we earn this place back. Yessiree."

Mukluk sits down next to the hunkered Doruk, taking a break.

He encourages the others to sit down as well.

"Well, this is it. Lots of decisions to be made, eventually, we'll have to face one of our fears. For me, this bridge ain't to much of a problem. We just rope ourselves and go slow, individual. The roper, we ain't got a chance against. The wanton wonton, upstairs, she ain't no good...but we'll get back to her. So, I think we get past this bridge. What do you all think?"

"What ifs we put those people at our camp to work diverting the river, and flood the lair? Wash that dragon right out from under the place."

"We must bring the light of Pelor to even the darkest places Mukluk. You and Petrel have done an amazing job so far."

Doruk thinks for a moment.

"I suppose the bridge is our best bet, but I like Petrels flooding idea too. It's not heroic, and it'll take a long time, but it might just work."

Doruk stands up and fidgets looking at the bridge and planning his crossing.

Mukluk nods along.

"Yeah, Petrel. We could do that. Might take a bit of work though and we don't know the dragon is down here. What if we checked things out a bit further first?"

Mukluk stands up and dusts himself off.

"Lets get some rope out and get across this bridge."

Using the Doruk plan. Is Mobled still around?

For the big guys in armor - Martigan and Doruk... let me know what you are wearing/carrying when you cross, and the order that you cross the eastern bridge.

"Nothing for it Doruk, I'm wearing scales but I'm no fish."

Martigan strips off his armor and sends it across before crossing.