Clever Halfling Sorcerer 6 (hp: 46/46, AC 21, T 17, FF 18) Spells: 1st: 5/8, 2nd:2/7, 3rd: 3/4
Kyren takes a quick glance around the room to see if he sees any evidence of corpses or such.
Perception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15
Ugly Naga Yrix wrote:
"Hah! You do good in accepting the fact that your kin is inferior to mine - and we shouldn't forget that I'm a lord of my people...Since I find your lot highly amusing, I won't skin you alive but answer your questions: Ahem...I have no knowledge of this situation you are speaking about - and now, thake this insightful piece of valuable information and leave me be, before my invisible guardians tear you to pieces."
Sense Motive 1d20 ⇒ 6
Is this naga really telling me the truth? It is so hard to tell!
"Naturally, your wish is our command. However, before, we leave, Oh great Yrix, let me kindly offer to play for you upon the magnificent strings of my harp. I am a humble performer and would be honored to play for you."
If given the approval, Kyren will pull forth his harp while he gives "Daggers" Vaughn Eliot, Berry, and Alchy the knowing eye and the subtle movements to tell them to look around and investigate while he is distracting the worm.
Bluff (Secret Message) 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (19) + 11 = 30
Simple Secret Message: Go look for any evidence that you can find! We need to find those bodies!
Once Kyren's harp is set up, the halfling sits down he announces, "This is a pieces called, Kazam!" He then lets his fingers go wild in intricate musical patterns with lots of flourishes and glissandos to mesmerize and captivate his audience.
Scratching his chin, in a most excellent simulacrum of a thoughtful repose, the goblin accesses the part of his pickled little mind that he has set aside for all things necromancy. Sifting through that area provides him with an expansive vista of undead dust bunnies and ghoulish tumbleweeds.
The enticingly malodorous olfactory experience gave the impression of death, which was definitely something he associated with necromancy (actually the only thing he associated), but wizards tended to be finger wigglers, not armour wearers. Perhaps this was a creation, a pet, or just a tasteful collection of macabre pieces assembled for his viewing pleasure.
Carefully noting its exact location, in case he wanders this way again and finds that it had meandered to another position, Jinx continues to sneak west and southward silently consoling the nervous Floyd with awkward pets and pats.
"Dis familia...." Hands clap over the expansive oral cavity too slow to stop the exodus of verbage.
Pointing south and then east he uses the kinesthetic cue to score his memory so he does not accidentally come back this way.
Turning on his heel the goblin marches northward, slowing as he nears the corner and then peek around before committing his body to a potential attack from the armoured form. He doubted it would move very quietly, but was not willing to fully trust in that.
If he can move past that area without contact with the nefarious it is his full intent to cheat east and then continue further north into the area he has not been yet.
I'm guessing here. The site that has berry's sheet on it is down.
"Why are all of you being afraid of the goblin snake?" Walking right up to the goblin snake she scolds him with the full force of an indignant nun at an all boys catholic school. "You are a horrible deceitful little creature! We ought to let the big angry cat eat you to spare Kyren the embarassment of embarassing himself some more! I should put you on a slab and surgically remove the bit that makes you talk! Shame on you! Shame!"
Ugh what goblin snake...hah, feel my thunderous wrath! there is a strange sound...a bit like a fart...then the mighty Yrix tries to flee out of the room...however, the pathetic thing is too weak and too slow, soon Alchy'S paw rests on it. Only now you realize that the majestic curled up body of Yrix was just the remains of the skinning process all nagas go through several times in their long lives. The goblin snake must have found it and since then impersonated the deadly wormfolk creature.
It was good the armour remained in place and Silkilur remained dead dead. It was expensive to shoot at things.
"Dis more like it."
Jinx's eyes ping pong back and forth between the doors, making a decision as all enlightened beings do when faced with a quandary.
"Eenie meenie wheenie whiney hiney mo ho...."
The decision is made and he moves to the closer heptagram-adorned portal. Making himself as small as possible, he reaches up and opens it, fully prepared for his most memorable greeting to come from Floyd.
Theras, completely unused to the subtle signals the group uses, turns around in confusion as Kyren begins to play the beautiful piece. The song brought up memories of the week while they traveled through the vales of southern Andora (sp?), beautiful rolling grasslands dotted with small villages and farms with sun shining and a gentle breeze cooling off their fevered skin as he and Linora-
And like a record cutting off suddenly Theras focused on the rapidly changing situation as the giant cat pinned the strange snake creature the ground and growled. "Uh..."
No he's not stupid. Just not used to this group. And I love cutscenes brought on by outer stimuli at the wrong times.
Clever Halfling Sorcerer 6 (hp: 46/46, AC 21, T 17, FF 18) Spells: 1st: 5/8, 2nd:2/7, 3rd: 3/4
"Please don't kill me - we all want to make the best of our lives, don't we?!"
"Crazzleboks, I can't believe I fell for the little fiend in the snake skin gag! You had me worried there for a minute! Don't you realize that we don't have time for this?! Not only did you make me take my harp out in this filthy little hole, you embarrassed me in front of all my friends! Do you know that they will never let me live this down?! Just think about my reputation!"
Disgusted with the situation, Kyren sighes in frustration, then turns back to the creature and says, 'Give us anything of value: information, treasure, insight, anything useful, and I may consider sparring your life! But at the moment, I cannot think of any reason not to kill you! I know that I have enough difficulty keeping the cats fed as it it!"
Ozone melds with burned goblin flesh (hit points 48/55) as Jinx frowns at the door and sucks on his charred fingers enjoying his own taste. Loose threads stand on end, and it takes a few heartbeats to remember his name.
Floyd is brought to bear on the lock, quivering with the flood of adrenaline running through his system. He holds the position for a moment and then mercurially turns about and marches east to check the other stone door.
Perhaps this one wouldn't try to kill him since it had no star on it.
Uh, I know the one who controls a part of this tomb - a half-orc necromancer. But I hav't left my room for a long time, so I can't tell you where to find him. Oh and: Sorry Mr. Kyren.
Carefully you push the door open - a thirty-foot-diameter pit fills this circular room, its bottom lost in darkness. The ceiling arches twenty feet above the pit, which is encircled by a narrow, five-foot-wide walkway. A door stands in the opposite side, across the pit. You remember that this was the first room you saw of this whole complex. Silklur Silklav and you entered through a break in the northern wall.
Alcheringa pushes the worm out of the way, and proceeds to continue to and through the door. Blaze instead advances on the worm, full of threat and making it clear that further interference will meet with a nasty end.
Yrix does not interfere further and behind the door you find a narrow corridor that ends at the top of a stirwell leading down into the deeper levels of the ossuary - a place only a handful of mortals have ever entered...
Jinx has long forgotten the perceived slights upon his good name by this point and simply falls into line with the others.
How casually they bat aside a powerful naga, though he has never encountered one with such wonderfully fetid breath, reinforces his opinion that this is the right group of brave heroes to walk with.
Not relying on the flickering candlelight, it is the realm of darkvision that Jinx' beady little crimson orbs fall into to take in the corners of the small chamber where they currently stand.
With nothing approaching a segue, or explanation of his absence, the goblin simply recounts his mini solo adventure. "Me find bird-brain dead, door burn lock," To this one he holds up his charred fingers to make his point, "Find out way and tin man."
Jinx engages in a tickle fight with Floyd as he waits for their throng to proceed to the stairwell. He will cover them as they descend since ranged combat was his bailiwick.
It is a disjointed recounting of events requiring a degree of divergent thinking, a portion of luck and a great deal of context to circumnavigate, but Jinx is a passionate story teller (fully willing to throw his entire body into the performance, especially his hips that don't lie, as long as his meaning was conveyed) and willing to tirelessly repeat himself, or attempt entirely different methodology to convey his meaning.
Grammar was not the friend of 6 year olds from societies that felt that the written word was anathema to them, but the gunslinger was brighter than the average human by a surprising margin and that helped him to come at problems from many different angles.
To any that are willing to devote themselves to the process they are fully aware of everything that Jinx knows about the complex beyond and the denizens within.
Recognizing that he should possibly not have revealed so much in front of the naga he barks out, "YOU NOT KNOW DIS, K?"
Agilely stepping away from the embrace, one only did such things when they were ready to make naughty naughty, and while the snake thing had shiny scales it was a tad droopy in places. This naga was likely ancient, perhaps even as old as 7 and a half.
Wanderlust guided the young goblin far more than the lure of any responsibility. He had been offered everything a goblin could want and it had ended in flame and shed blood.
In a startling betrayal of the natural order of things Jinx replies in the common tongue, "No. If stay you my pet called Frances."
It is likely a strange comment, amongst a lifetime of strange comments, but considering the linguistically goblinoid exchange of just moments prior, it hopefully brings the others at least partially into the interaction.
A suit of elaborate lacquered armour stands sentinel against the far eastern wall of this octagonal chamber. Silver chains attached to the armour's neck and chest run across the floor of the room, their ends clutched in the bony hands of a skeleton sprawled on the floor ten feet away.
DC 20 Know Local:
The armour looks like those worn by the people of the Iridian Fold. Enigmatic foreigners they are who visit the City of Strangers often to discuss philosophy with representatives of other races. They always travel in pairs - one in armour, one in veils.
Floyd snarls at the lacquered armour, the bores of his flared nostrils as clean as a devoted nose picker could get them.
The pistol holds true, as a metallic extension of Jinx' arm, with unwavering precision. Popping the chain up into his other hand, he yanks on the armour from afar in the hopes of topping the armour over and revealing what lives within.