GM Mowque |
This is the last I shall control your character...enjoy
It was the light, Kizzirark decided as he walked through the small colony. When was the last time he had been in such bright light? Months, if not years. He squinted as he looked up at the rocky cavern roof, at the wavering, flickering light, not unlike sunlight reflected off a pond. The endless rippling, shimmering light hurt his eyes but it did provide good illumination, giving the whole colony cavern daylight, even here deep in the Darklands, miles below the surface.
The uplanders had chosen a good spot though, Kizzirark admitted. He had been surprised at the good planning. The cavern was big and round, like a vast dome, studded with stalagmites and stalactites like haphazard pillars made of brown-ish stone. Two springs bubbled out of the walls, trickling down in two small streams to meet in the center of the round cavern, creating a deep, dark pool which drained in unknown depths. The water was good and was the lifelife (that and the magical light) of the colony.
He passed a few plots of fungus, grown in straight rows, as if they were nothing more then tomatoes or apple trees. Here and there a tumbledown shack of stone was piled, creating a house or shed. Poorly made, these did seem serviceable however, and people milled about them. All of these buildings huddle close to the lake, along its rocky shore.
Kizzirark headed towards his destination, a large stone hall built where one of the streams flowed into the little lake. It was one the only well-built building in the little colony, made of squared stone blocks, hewed out of the local walls. Big, squat and painted a off-green, it was ugly, even by Darklands standards. But it was here, he was told, that the masters of the colony did business and that they wanted him, Kizzirark Devorst, renowned guide to the Darklands. For what, he did not know.
He wished Zak was with him, but on second thought he knew it was for the best. The jittery mongrelman might do more harm then good in a civilized place like this, besides the light would hurt his eyes. He knew his scaly friend was waiting in the outer tunnels, watching as best he could.
At the door stood a burly looking man, in armor, picking his teeth with a long knife. He had few teeth left and ignored the imposing looking half-orc.
[ooc] Forgive the roughness. Usually takes me a few posts to get into the swing of each game. Enjoy! [/ooc[
Kizzirark Devorst |
Since you controlled him and described his actions and thoughts along the colony, I'll start right at the door.
Kizzirark looked at the closed door, to the man again and also looked around one more time.
"So... my name is Kizzirark Devorst, the 'guide'..."
He was not so fond of the word 'guide' to describe his 'profession', but that was how he became known. A guide has the job of guiding people around unknown places, but such people should not come down to the Darklands, and those how already lived where the sun doesn't shine, need no guide... but he had no better word also to describe him. 'Avenger' sound to pompous... 'freedom fighter'? nah... 'keeper of good people and enthusiast of the application of law and order' was too long...
"... I was told the masters around here wanted to see me."
He offered his right hand to the man while patted Moon's head with the left. Moon was his last friend from the Academy and also the most loyal. When dire circumstances forced his old friends to choose between their lives and those of their friends, not many of them chose the second... Moon always did and even though she was still young, she had a couple of scars under her fur... just like him.
GM Mowque |
The armored man gave Kizzirark a long look, squinting at him. He slowly finished picking his teeth, then stood up.
"Go ahead inside, but try not to cause any trouble, cave-dweller. I have my eye on you.". He keeps a hand on his sword hilt as he speaks. He mutters as Devorst passes "Damn, cave trash....".
Inside the hall there is only one long room, made of the same brown-stone. It is simply built with a low, flat roof, and lit by a few globes of magical light dancing up above. A few windows, cut into the walls, also let in the magical light from 'outside'.
At the other end of the hall, Kizzirark spots three men, sitting on a slightly raised platform. The man in the middle is sitting on a rough throne of stone, crudely carved. He is tall and armored in dark, polished steel. A huge battleaxe rests in one mailed fist, well at ease despite the huge weight. His eyes are hidden behind a closed visor. A hellknight.
The other two men look like children besides him.
"Kizzirark Devorst?" the Hellknight's voice is low and cold, echoing in the low chamber.
Kizzirark Devorst |
"Cause trouble? Me?" He laughs. "Quite the opposite... if someone got the effort of finding me and ASK me to come by, I'm here to solve your problems..."
Kizzirark entered the building with Moon by his side, but stops when he hears the man's mutter. He smiles again.
"Some men talk and talk, especially when they are behind bars, surrounded by drow or a pack of ghouls... when they beg the derros for not experimenting on them... I saw all of this and here I am... Other men talk inside their magic kingdom of light, looking brave but in truth hoping that the night never comes. Take a walk into the night, so you can better distinguish between foe from friend."
He walked along the building until the armored man talked to him.
A Hellknight? Looks like the whole upper world is not enough for the Chelaxian nobles... Well, as grandfather used to say, 'better the devil we know'.
"Indeed. I was told the masters of this colony wanted to see me... I'm all ears."
He looked to the other men, ignoring the Hellknight for a moment... one thing the always bothered him was talking with someone that he could not see their eyes.
Sense Motive - Hunch(DC 20): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
GM Mowque |
Kizzirark detects fear and resentment from the other two men, who look like they have lived hard lives. Teeth missing, skin burned or branded, and marks of chains on their hands and shoulders. The half-orc heard rumors that the colony was made up of political prisoners of various stripes...
The Hellknight answers, ”My name is Hezrol Raquir. You will address me as Sir.” he says easily, used to command. ” I am told that you are one of the best local guides for getting around these accursed caves. I have a mission of the utmost importance to our colony.”. With that the armored man turns and waves an arm at one of the other men, who starts to speak.
His voice is higher, and less sure, glancing back at the Hellknight frequently. ”We.. had a small outpost colony, a few miles away through a side tunnel. They were harvesting a vein of coal, for our fires. Last week...there was an earthquake, a small one but it collapsed the tunnel. We think there are side tunnels that lead to the outpost but....it is far and none of us can make the trip. We ask...can you go and lead the men back here, back to safety?”
The Hellknight says nothing more but Kizzirark notices a very odd thing. On the Hellknight's imposing, black steel armor, the half-orc notes the symbol of Abadar, his own deity!
Kizzirark Devorst |
Hum... what is the name of the colony? I'm sure he was told the this when he was summoned, so it makes no sense for him to ask now.
Hum, looks like the rumors are true... these people are indeed prisoners... this isn't good... this place is already a dangerous one for those who have a reason to survive, who have hope. There is not much hope for these men if the Hellknights take charge of this colony... they will only change their status from prisoners to slaves.
"As you wish, Sir Raquir." Kizzirark bows his head just slightly. "Well, I'm still alive after leaving here for three years. I indeed know how to walk around this place, as well as how to fight its inhabitants and monsters... at least in the upper lawyer... I'm sure you have already heard of it, Sir, but there are three know lawyers in the Darklands: Nar-Voth, the uppermost and the one your colony is located; Sekamina, the second one and; Orv, the deeper one."
Kizzirark pauses for a moment before continuing.
"I've never been to Orv and only a couple of times to Sekamina."
Kizzirark had no qualms about addressing Hezrol as 'sir'. He understood hierarchy since he was a boy and as an Abadaran, he knew it was of the uttermost importance. If the leaders are just and good was an entirely different matter, but he always preferred a bad person with strong leadership skills than the opposite.
Kizzirark listened to the man description and then took a crude map from his backpack. He walked closer to the man and what he showed them could be hardly recognized as a map: multiple lines run across it, making subtle curves, parting away just to join again ahead, chambers rivers, even 'forests' were depicted here, surely the work of someone how not just bought it, but made it himself.
"So... your colony is here." He pointed to a moderately small chamber. "I felt this earthquake... it hit this region mostly. I assume this is where your men were." He pointed again to the map. "If it is the case, there are indeed several side tunnels but, even if I manage to find your men, I must say it is not looking good." Kizzirark furled his map and secured it back in a water proof case.
"There are a couple of important points I must cover before my departure:
First, the time... how many days are they missing? Are they expecting to be rescued? If so, they might be waiting there, if not, the might have wandered around and if they took the wrong tunnel, they are lost for good. Depending which day is today, 'last week' could be from 2 days ago to 7 days ago
Second, my recognition... the inhabitants around here are violent and brutish, but sometimes also subtle and if your men do not believe in me when, and if, I find them, I could not blame them. I need something of indubitable proof that I'm working for you and I'm there to rescue them.
And third, our contract... see, I'm no 'citizen' of this colony and also not a slave, I expect to be paid for my work."
Kizzirark notices for the first time, now that he is closer, the Abadar symbol in the Hellknight armor.
Well, that you don't see everyday...
It was not uncommon for a Hellknight to worship a God, but he never saw one that did not follow the Dark Prince. He looks back to Hezrol.
"Sir Raquir, our contract shall be written in two parts, encompassing two distinct missions:
The first is my tracking service, where I shall look for your man, not tied to the condition that I will find them. According to the amount of days you wish for me to look for them.
The second is the proper rescue, where I shall bring them back. I think it will be fair that the more men I bring back, the bigger is my payment.
This way, if your men vanished, I had not wasted my time and risked my live for nothing... if I find them, but we are attacked and they perish, I shall not receive a single cooper coin for the rescue, but if I bring all of them, this act should be reflected in my payment. Oh, and I'll receive for the tracking job now."
Kizzirark paused, waiting for the Hellknight to agree with his terms. As an Abadaran, he was forbidden to work for free since the commerce should be encouraged after all. He also could not take any advantage in a contract... all of them should be just.
GM Mowque |
The Hellknight remains unmoved but the two men crane to see the map, with eager, hungry faces. It is obvious they want as much information as possible, although the twisting complexities of the map would probably boggle the mind of any surface dweller.
The two men nod, grunt and sighs at appropriate times as Kizzirark speaks, but Raquir remains utterly silent. If it wasn’t for the soft breathing behind the visor, there would not even be a sign that the imposing Hellknight was alive.
After the half-orc asks his questions, one of the men, s says, ”It has been three days, although day and night mean little down here.” he says, darkly, looking at the rough-hewn walls. ”I doubt they have wandered off, they have now here to go. They’d be terrified…” he trails off, looking a bit pale to consider the fate of the outpost.
At Kizzirark asks for some sort of proof the Hellknight stirs, and says in deep tones, ’Tell them you have been sent by the Order of the Godclaw. They will know it is us. Who else in this howling waste would know the name of the true faith?”
The two men shy away when Kizzirark starts speaking of contracts and negotiation, as if expecting Raquir to be angry. But the armored man merely pauses then says, ”You attention to detail in contract becomes you. I had worried when they mentioned hiring a local to do the work but you have put my mind at ease. Make sure you live up to it.” he adds sternly.
”I will pay you, do need fear. I will pay you after your return, either with my men or not. Paying you before is foolish, what is to prevent you from simply vanishing into the tunnels? Go and search for a week, if you find no trace, return and I shall pay you, assuming you have some evidence of your search. If you do return with men you will be rewarded handsomely.” There is a pause then, ”Do you have a rate for such things?”
The men look astonished at the polite phrasing from the intimidating looking Hellknight, a giant in armor.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark got a bit offended as the Hellknight questions honesty, but, after all, they were in the Darklands, quite understandable.
"I would never break a contract, for we follow the same principles and the same deity. Nevertheless, I agree of getting paid after my return."
Kizzirark paused for a moment, as if thinking which rate he should apply to this matter. He took his journal and after a couple of minutes he answered.
"You are hiring my services for a week, so it will cost you 700 gold coins, one hundred for each day. This will cover the tracking and retrieve of your men. This amount, if agreed, will be now fixed, so if I find them, lets say in three days, good for me, if I find them in six days and need another six to bring them back, you will not be overcharged the remaining five days.
For the guiding job, that will take place after, and if, I find your men, it will cost a fixed amount of 50 gold coins for each of them that I manage to bring back. Fair enough?"
Kizzirark lifted a finger abruptly, as if he was forgetting something.
"Also, healthy men walk faster... Since we have no way to know how many, if any, of them survived and how many are injured, I'll need supplies to patch them up, as well as a couple of horses to transport food, water and the injured ones, unless they already possess these supplies in the outpost."
I only now noticed that I forgot two things: first is to buy my remaining gear, and second that I started with the wealth of a 4th level pc. Can I change it, since nothing really happened yet? Also I think you forgot to tell me the name of the colony.
GM Mowque |
Yeah, go ahead and buy your gear. The name is 'Deepholt' for obvious reasons.
One of the dirty men opens his mouth to protest the cost, but the Hellknight overrules him with ease, ”Your price is fair. I give you my word you shall be paid in full upon your arrival. We have brought sufficient Chelish gold from the surface, you will not find us stingy if you hold true. If not...” the battleaxe rolls smoothly in his hand, clinking lighting on his polished armor.
”As for wounded men..I care little for them. At this point, I regard them as escaped convicts, you need not be gentle. Establishing order in these lands with the likes of them is no easy task and requires a certain....ruthlessness.” out of of the corner of his eye Kizzirark sees a hard look on the faces of the other two men, that they quickly hide.
One of them speaks then, ”No horses in Deepholt, none would enter the caves above. Everything is done by human labor, so you'll find no beasts there, just men.” He shrugs and adds, ”As for supplies, we can supply you with some water and such, but only what you can carry, of course.”
Raquir says, ”Anything else, guide?”
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark nodded. "I'm bound by my word... it is the only way we keep the darkness outside."
At the refusal off his request of medications, Kizzirark could not disagree more. There were countless creatures and dangers in the dark to take the lives and hopes of a man down here, one should not also fear his own kind... but he had no choice, so he nodded again.
"The situation is far from optimal, but I had worked in far direr situations. With everything settled, I shall move, since each our diminishes the chance of finding them. With whom shall I talk about the supplies?"
He prepared himself to leave. He looked again to the Hellknight and slightly bowed his head again.
"With your permission, I shall leave, Sir."
GM Mowque |
The hellknight inclines his head politely and says, 'May our God with you, guide. Bring order to the chaos." he says the last with the cant of a prayer or oath. He then waves idly to one of the other men who get up and walk out with Kizzirark.
"So, what sort of supplies do you need? It is only about two dozen men or so.." he says, as they step back out into the magical daylight filling the main cavern. The man looks relived to be out of the low hall and visibly relaxes.
This is probably a good time to buy the rest of your gear?
Kizzirark Devorst |
I think a great part of my gear would come from what he found all these years. Could we assume that he already have those?
"So it is judged." Kizzirark responds with a common abadaran aphorism before following the man outside.
Kizzirark thinks for a while at the man's question.
No horses... I know they are no fond of the underground, but they could have forced some of them... this is not a bad place after all... How am I supposed to bring those men without supplies?... He then looks at Moon and smiles.
"I know Sir Raquir cares not for your men, but I do, and they will need food and water. I have means to heal a couple of them enough for the trip back. Bring me one backpack with 20 lbs of trail rations and waterskins and a saddlebag with an additional 40 lbs."
He looks again at Moon.
"I think you'll not like it so much girl, but it is needed."
Back to the man he continues.
"I do not know your name, neither the name of the other man."
GM Mowque |
The man sighs heavily and says, ’Sir Raquir doesn’t care about any of us. To him, we are merely convicts moved to a different gaol and he our jailer. He is fair enough in his fashion; he despises us all equally and only views us as tools to be used.” the man laughs bitterly, walking among the little rock shacks that make up Deepholt.
’Better then some Hellknights I’ve been forced to labor under, in Cheliax. Many simply killed prisoners for amusement or to make an obscure political point. At least Raquir doesn’t do that. As for my name, I used to be called Peim Pritor but it has been long since I have heard it. Most just call me ‘Prim’ these day. The other man is called ‘Blackie’, another nickname. Both of us were…political radicals..before our arrest.” he looks around to make sure no one was listening. ’We were chosen to help ‘lead’ Deepholt because we were deemed more experienced in working with men.”
They come to stop in front of a shack, with an armed guard standing outside of it. he is dressed in Chelish soldier fashion, but slovenly. His armor is dull and his cape, muddy and bedraggled. He idly waves Kizzirark and Prim inside, which appears to be a military-like quatermaster building. The half-orc guide is quickly given what he requested although the small, short man behind the counter gives him a cold stare.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark listened to the man's words, imagining how he could help them and even if he should.
For more than once he imagined how Cheliax would be if the Dark Prince was not in charge. The order aspect his followers provided was undeniably effective, but was it the only way? Unfortunately his own god, Abadar, was always more interested in the maintenance of the civilization than in running one...
"I know your situation is hard around here, but nevertheless you all must decide what to do with your lives and follow this decision. A warden is only needed when the prisoners want to scape... it does not look like, but you are one of the lucky ones, you were given another start here. Embrace your duty and make this colony flourish. Be indispensable to Sir Raquir... have a mindset of a colonizer, and you all shall become 'free' citizens again."
Kizzirark stopped his motivational speech as they approached the shack. He entered, grabbed his supplies and left. He paid no attention to the neither the guard nor the short man. After many years leaving in Egorian and in the Darklands, he could not care less for a cold stare, for his was colder, with its warmth lost in the endless darkness.
GM Mowque |
Prim shrugs ruefully at Kizzirark's words. "Easy for you to say. Chelish prison leaves a hard mark on a man, and I'm not taking about the scars." he shows his battered wrists, etched with wear and tear. 'Then again, this is no jail. Maybe you are on to something? Anyway, be careful out there and good luck, I had a few friends among those men you are going to find. I..it took a lot to convince Raquir to hire you to get them. Don't let us down." he reddens at this show of emotion and walks off back into the colony, dodging the piles of loose rock and lie here and there on the rough paths.
Anything else before you venture forth?
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark sighed.
"It is indeed easy for me to say, for I've already seen the worst in this world. You say the Chelish prison leaves a hard mark on a man... multiply this by a hundred times and you'll start to grasp how is the life down here when you are alone. I've seen close friend being eaten alive by hungry ghouls, and these were the lucky ones... what I've said before is not just an advice, it is the only way for you to survive..."
He paused for a moment, leaving his gloom behavior behind.
"Well, I'll do what I can... now I should leave and I hope I'll be back in a week at most. Farewell Prim."
Saying this, Kizzirark turned his back to the man and left Deepholt behind, heading towards his friend that was supposed to wait for him in the outskirts of the large cave. Moon, burdened with the supplies, was the first to notice the curved figure in the shadows thanks to her accurate scent. She barked friendly.
"Zak, we have a job."
GM Mowque |
The shadowy figure drops down from the craggy roof, covered in short stalagmites. Zak Hairysnake, mongrelman and friend grins at Kizzirark. ”What is it? Something juicy from the surface dwellers? Any good news from their little nest there? I hope you at least got us paid this time?” he ask in rapid fire questions, while reaching out and petting Moon. ”Or more likely, you signed us up for a noble but profitless quest that will bring order to the Darklands and so one...” he says irreverently but with a grin.
The cave tunnel here is dark, with only the merest glimmer of light from the colony reaching in. Still, Zak squints and does his best to face deeper into the inky blackness from beyond.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark waited until Zak finished all his questions... no matter how many times he told him to wait for the answers before asking another question, Zak never learned.
"It is indeed quite good news! At least for now... These men are no scavengers, they are colonists. Their leader is a Hellknight, and even if, as always, he insisted to pay afterwards, I'm sure we will get paid this time. He is an abadaran." With his last comment, Kizzirark hoped to extinguish his friend's worries.
With a grim, Kizzirark continued.
"Also, I never understand your greed about money down here. You are not welcome in almost any settlement!" he laughs as he moves into the darkness.
"Come, lets move on, I'll tell about our mission along the way. Moon! Come girl!"
GM Mowque |
The agile mongrelman jumps and climbs among the scattered stones of the passageway, making sure to stay out dripping water. The caves here are quite wet and Kizzirark knows that some of them are full of rushing torrents or deep pools.
”Sure, a Hellknight. From what you've said of them, they seem trustworthy.” Zak's knowledge of the 'Overburn' as he calls it is very limited and mostly based off Kizzirark's knowledge and memories.
'As for money, it is the principle of the thing. Sure gold coins and flashing jewels are useless to me, but thy mean something to surface dwellers. Therefore, I deserve to paid, even if I don't actually want it.” His logic is bewildering at times.
He laughs and pets Moon as they tramp into the endless darkness of the Darklands. Zak listens carefully as Kizzirark lays out the job and all the agreements. He respects the half-orc and knows his the leader of any expedition they make but he does ask carefully, ”So what do you plan? You know that map is an approximation, at best. We could spend days looking for these people...”
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark smiles at Zak's new explanation. "Actually this makes quite sense, my friend. Abadar taught us that we should always be paid for our services... this is the only way for the commerce and civilization to flourish."
He also nodded at his friend's observation about his map, even if a bit offended. "Yes... I know my map is an 'approximation', but it is the best we have in hand, thank you!"
After a couple minutes walking in the darkness he continued. "Actually we have no choice. Those men in Deepholt are new around here, so they are useless to get more information, just a general direction, and to whom we could ask around here?"
Kizzirark then took his compass from his pocket and started to follow his map the best as he could, always keeping an eye on the tunnels ahead... down here, danger could be hiding in any turn of these tunnels.
"Keep your eyes open Zak, and you too, Moon... I know you can't see in like us, so keep your 'nose' open..."
Knowledge (dungeoneering), compass, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 1 + 2 = 29
Survival, compass, deep knowledge, evader: 1d20 + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 = 31
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20 Up to 90 ft.
Perception (Moon, scent): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15
Not sure what (if) you'll use to determine if Kizzirark finds the location... do not remember where I read, but I think Knowledge (dungeoneering) is used to navigate underground.
GM Mowque |
I'd like you to roll Knowledge dungeoneering and survival when you have to find your way or you get lost or something. It is a nice combo! But of course you'll have adventures before you find the location....
Moon nuzzles the half-orc's leg before trotting alongside him, nose snuffling in the dark. Zak nods at Kizzirark's advice, and moves along the walls and floor, with his usual roving, curious pattern of exploration and investigation.
The day passes quietly as Kizzirark tries to find his bearings. The caves here are narrow, and twisty, full of dripping water and slippery calcium build-up. Not only do the diving and rising tunnels complicate things, the earthquake has rattled the entire area creating blocked off tunnels, thrown open new ones and sometimes filled passageways full of broken rubble, slowing progress to a crawl. Everywhere there is a slick film of water, sometimes combined with algae or even the odd fungus. But generally it is just bare, broken rock.
Still Kizzirark keeps his head and he is fairly confident that he has led his little group in the right direction. They are tired though and even Zak's quips peter out into tired resignation. Finally, they call a halt to rest for awhile.
Kizzirark has found three likely resting locations.
First there is a small cavern, fully closed off except for a board entrance. The cavern's floor is mostly made of a deep, silent pool with a few drips from the cracked ceiling. But a high shelf of rock provides a decent (and hard to access sleeping spot).
Picture a round room, full of a deep pool but on one 'shore' the rock ledge is wide enough to sleep on
Secondly, there is a large, cragged cave, which used to have tunnels leading off, but all have fallen in the earthquake, choking them with tightly packed rock. The high ceiling has partially fallen in, and numerous cracks and fissures lead up, out of sight. Some of the cracks are big enough for a man to crawl through but they can't be reached via the high, smooth walls. Water glistens off every surface, but there are no pools or puddles.
Lastly, Kizzirark finds a corridor with a narrow, almost crack-like passageway that winds far and away, not marked on his map. It is narrow, and the he doesn't know where the passage leads, but it is defensible and has the benefit of being high and dry.
Which do you choose? And of course, layout how you want your camp. I'll use that for the default in the future, as well!
Kizzirark Devorst |
Looking for a place to sleep was always a difficult matter... every place could turn from a comfortable stop to a death trap in a matter of seconds, but being paranoid about it was also of no help.
The first cave could be e good spot if not for the water... Anything could emerge from it. Used to pierce the darkness with his eyes, any environment that he could not see throw was always suspicious. Also, only one entrance was too dangerous.
The second was too instable, especially after the recent earthquake. From past experiences he learnt that many rocks took days to settle properly.
The third spot was not perfect, but almost. The narrow space would bar the entrance of large foes and two exits meant a quick escape route.
Not able to light a fire, since its flames would work like a beacon, the camp was quite simple. Kizzirark rested his backpacks at his side and soon after took the others from Moon's back, scratching behind her ears until she felt on the ground with all four legs upward. He then took a portion from his food from the backpacks and handed it over to Zak and to Moon. After the quick meal, Kizzirark took a scale and a couple of gems and coins from his purse and started his daily ritual of trying to balance them on the plates.
When he finished, he looked to Zak.
"I'll take the..." Zak, as always, was already sleeping. "Hm... well girl, sleep you too, you deserved." He then prepared his crossbow and waited for his turn to end.
1st Turn
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11
Perception (Moon), asleep: 1d20 + 10 - 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 - 10 = 17
2nd Turn
Perception, asleep: 1d20 + 10 - 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 - 10 = 5
Perception (Moon), asleep: 1d20 + 10 - 10 ⇒ (19) + 10 - 10 = 19
3rd Turn
Perception, asleep: 1d20 + 10 - 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 - 10 = 12
Perception (Moon): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
There is not much to do right now in camp defense, since Zak still has not material to make good traps.
GM Mowque |
Kizzirark sees nothing on his watch, utter silence except for Zak's snores, Moon's snuffling and the constant but distant drip of water. Satisfied, the half-orc goes to sleep, but sleeps lightly. Danger can be so sudden in the Darklands.
In the second watch he bolts up, altered by the bark of Moon. There is nothing at hand, but the dog is growling at the distant winding passage (not the way they came). All is silent and Zak begins to stir, his rustling seeming loud as thunder in the endless silence. Moon begins a low growl, deep in her throat. Nothing can be heard...
Perception please! And anything else of course. But you see nothing 'offhand'.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 10 + 2 = 24 +2 if Derro and +4 if aberration.
Trust was one of the more important things into the Darklands, and Kizzirark learnt to trust his companion's senses. He touched Moon and make her a silent gesture. She immediately stopped with her growl, remaining silent. She knows the Sneak trick.
Kizzirark then grabbed his crossbow and readied it, moving silently forward, hoping to scout the source of Moon's worries.
Stealth, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 11 - 3 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 11 - 3 + 2 = 16
GM Mowque |
It is only long years of experience that allows Kizzirark to spot the danger. it is subtle, more of a warping of light and the slightest buldge of rubble then anything else. But he soon spots it, slowly inching toward him.
A cube of clear, transparent ooze is creeping down the narrow corridor, untroubled by the tight squeeze. It is silently approaching with mindless finality. The ooze is big enough to engulf a man whole, and Kizzirark knows they have done so.
Behind him Zak wakes up fully and asks in a whisper, "What is it?" his voice punctuating the quiet.
ooze attack! It is 15 feet away. To go any cloer, you'd have to squeeze, due to the tight walls.
Kizzirark Devorst |
I imagine it is a Gelatinous Cube, but just to make sure.
Knowledge (dungeoneering), deep knowledge: 1d20 + 9 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 2 = 17
"An ooze..." Kizzirark whispered back. "Go back to the camp, put the pack back on Moon and prepare to move... as you know this things usually corrode everything, we can not risk to loose our supplies."
Said this, Kizzirark aimed carefully and let a bolt loose.
Attack (heavy crossbow), deadly aim: 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 8 - 2 = 26
Damage (heavy crossbow), deadly aim: 1d10 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 1 + 4 = 8
Critical Attack (heavy crossbow), deadly aim: 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (3) + 8 - 2 = 9
Critical Damage (heavy crossbow), deadly aim: 1d10 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 1 + 4 = 6
He then moved back as fast as he could, putting some distance between him and the ooze.
Initiative, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 4 + 2 = 16
GM Mowque |
It is indeed a Gelatinous Cube. oozes are common in tunnels, 'cleaning' them, as it were but just rolling along and eating everything.
Zak nods and quietly takes Moon to be harnessed. He works quickly in the utter darkness and tries to stay quiet.
Kizzirark's bolt strikes true and penetrates the oncoming cube. It splits the squishy surface and disappears inside. It did some damage but how much is hard to judge in a creature that is just sentient ooze.
As Kizzirark retreats the ooze comes closer, hurrying along as is crawls down the rocky passageway. Now it is only ten feet away, having gained some distance. Just behind Kizzirark is Zak and Moon, supplies being packed hurriedly.
Kizzirark Devorst |
With his greataxe in hand, Kizzirark moved back again, putting some distance between him and the ooze. He then prepared to attack as soon as it came to get him.
Without looking, he spoke to his friend.
"How is the packing going, Zak? I left everything ready for such occasion... we do not have much time here!"
Attack (Greataxe), power attack: 1d20 + 9 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 9 - 2 = 9
Damage (Greataxe), power attack: 1d12 + 4 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 4 + 6 = 13
Oh, I hate oozes... at least they are easy to hit. To speed things up, here are the rolls for the AoO and Fortitude if it tries to engulf Kizzirark.
Attack (Greataxe), power attack: 1d20 + 9 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 9 - 2 = 9
Damage (Greataxe), power attack: 1d12 + 4 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 4 + 6 = 19
Fortitude: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
GM Mowque |
I love oozes...
Zak pipes up, "All packed, Kizzirark. We are moving out behind you, but be careful!" and the half-orc hears the mongrelman and Moon move back farther, giving him space. "Is there anything I can do?" he asks, his voice showing a trace of fear.
The creeping ooze closes, still silent. Kizzirark's greataxe strikes a hard blow, lopping off a huge chunk of the ooze, sending it splattering against a wall. Uncaring and unfeeling, the ooze comes on.
It simple attemps to engulf the hardy half-orc, who sees a chance to attack again, slicing off even more of the advancing cube. It is only a fraction of it's former size, and trails of slime hang off of it, clinging to the walls. But it crawls onward.
Ooze is much smaller now, but still alive...
The sticky tendrils tangle around Kizzirark, creating a horrible, tight embrace of slime. The burn of acid seeps past his armor.
Acid damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1
and he feels the sting of some sort of poison but the stout half-orc overcomes it through force of will.
But now Kizzirark is pinned, stuck in the goopy mess of the ooze. All seems lost as the ooze will eat the nearly immobile ranger, given enough time.
Seeing his distress, Zak jumps forward, swinging his own short sword, which rings faintly in the darkness.
Zak's attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
His blade strikes true, hitting the lumpy ooze. Huge chunks of slime spatter on the walls but the ooze is just able to keep its tight grip of the half-orc's body, keeping him pinned. His head is free though and he can speak if he wishes.
You'd be dead, if you alone, probably. Man, I love oozes but this one is nearly dead.
Kizzirark Devorst |
"Argh... cursed thing! I hate oozes, Zak, how many times did I told you that?... And do not stop hitting it, I'm pretty sure it is almost dead."
Saying this, Kizzirark tried to free himself from the ooze.
Combat Maneuver: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18
At least partially free, Kizzirark draws his dagger.
Actually since Kizzirark resisted the paralysis, he is pretty safe, since now he is just grappled and the ooze would need to successfully grapple him again to make him pinned again. Next round Kizzirark will be able to attack with his dagger or attempt to become completely free from it. If he had failed the paralysis I agree he would be pretty dead...
GM Mowque |
The plucky mongrelman strikes again, blade humming through the warm, humid air.
Zak Attack: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
Zak Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
With that blow the ooze dissolves into merely bits of goo. The bits slither apart, allowing Kizzirark so stand, and shake off the sticky remains. It was a close brush and again his friend saved his life.
Moon gives a happy whine and nuzzles the half-orc's leg.
"Well, that was unpleasant." Zak says, sheathing his sword. "Must be all the water, natural for oozes. We'll have to keep an eye out in the future." he says, peering into the endless night around them.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Crap... post got eaten.
Yeah... like we always did around here. After so many fights together, and countless times of one saving the life of each other, thanking lost a bit of its meaning.
Kizzirark inspected his gear, inspecting the damage the acid from the ooze could have caused... he quickly saw a hole in his "new" coat and shirt.
"Oh come on! If these things knew how difficult it is to find decent clothing down here they would for sure choose a new way of attacking..."
Calmer, Kizzirark remained silent for a moment, trying to hear any sound besides those they were making, just to make sure that no other denizen from the dark discovered their camp.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 10 + 2 = 31
Kizzirark Devorst |
Rested, Kizzirark stood up and saddled Moon again, scratching her ears in the process. To Zak's question he answered as usual, and, as usual the laughed.
"Forward again Zak, if it actually means anything."
Limited by the constant turns inside the tunnels, directions were almost useless, since the north tunnel could turn west a couple of miles ahead.
Kizzirark checked his map again and pressed forward, hoping not to find anything dangerous.
"Attention, girl... keep your scent as sharp as yesterday."
Knowledge (dungeoneering), compass, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 9 + 1 + 2 = 20
Survival, compass, deep knowledge, evader: 1d20 + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 = 34
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18
Perception (Moon), scent: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (14) + 10 = 24
GM Mowque |
Another march through the the twisting tunnels. The rockfalls and collapse of the earthquake become more evident as they pass deeper. A few times Kizzirark finds a tunnel that would probably lead them directly towards the outpost, but finds it blocked. They must keep going the long way.
It is wet going. The floor is covered with puddles and shallow pools, the wall sweat with water and the roof drips constantly. Zak's fur is a sodden mess and Moon squelches as she pads along. Kizzirark is soaked right through. Here and there stalagmites form columns of living rock, but they are few. Much of the tunnels are covered with hard-edged new rockfalls, hardly touched by water.
But water is everywhere, dripping, rushing, gurgling, always on the edge of hearing. Finally after hours of stamping through the wet, Kizzirark hears a loud rushing of water. After two more sharp corners he sees what he expected.
The tunnel is intersected by a rushing stream of water, dark and swirling with a strong current. Nearly 15 feet across it roars by, sending up a foam as it crashes among rocks. Across the stream is the quickest way. Going around is possible but it would take days...
Zak shivers, ”Cold in here. The water must be icy...” and indeed the usual warm embrace of the caves is tempered with a cold edge.
Physical obstacles are fun! Ask what details you want to help you make plans/decisions
Kizzirark Devorst |
Humm... I assume the floor is slippery, to a total of DC 17 on an untrained Acrobatics check to jump over it, and the stream is rough water with a DC 15. If not, let me know and I adjust my action.
"Looks like we'll have to swim... it is too far to jump." Kizzirart said to Zak with little joy in his voice. "I'll cross this stream tied to my rope and once I'm on the other side, you'll send me our supplies, one by one, tied to the rope, and finally Moon and you cross, understood?"
Kizzirark then inspects the stream, looking for any immediate danger, like monsters or apparent rocks.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 10 + 2 = 15
He then removes his breastplate, takes a long run and jumps, trying to go as far as possible before hitting the water.
Acrobatics (DC 17): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12 jumped 10 ft.
Swim (Rough - DC 15): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
The current is stronger than he expected and Kizzirark vanishes underwater.
Swim (Rough - DC 15): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
But after a couple of seconds he emerged and reached for the other side, coughing and spitting water.
Fortitude, endurance: 1d20 + 7 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 7 + 4 = 15
"Right... now... Zak, tie our stuff firmly and let's start with it, and don't let it touch the water, or our food will be lost."
Once everything is now on the other side, Kizzirark spoke again. "Now Zak, tie Moon to the rope, just in case the current is too strong for her, and once she has crossed I'll throw the rope back to you." Once Zak finished, Kizzirark continues. "Moon, jump to me girl... come on, come on..."
Acrobatics (DC 17), 40 ft. movement: 1d20 + 3 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 3 + 4 = 21
Moon took some distance and jumped majestically, almost knocking the always worried Kizzirark in the ground. "Nice girl!" He then patted her head, untied her and threw the rope's end back to Zak.
Throw Rope (AC 10): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (5) + 7 = 12
"Now, Zak, jump to me boy... come on, come on..." He laughs, never resisting an opportunity to mess with his closest friend.
Well, that was a lot of assumptions, if you think I overstepped, I'll re-post his actions...
GM Mowque |
No, nothing horrible swam up and bit you. So you are good. I much prefer you make assumptions then we ret-con then taking five days to cross a stream. Good moves!
Kizzirark manages to swim the icy stream. The cold cuts to the bone but the hardy half-orc is made of stout stuff and he shrugs it off. The terror of momentarily being sucked under only last a few moments. Moon also clears the gap, with room to spare. She happily licks Kizzirark’s face as he pats her, gently.
Zak grabs the rope, and eyes the roaring stream warily. The joke is lost on the mongrelman who has always had a fear of deep water. Who knows how deep this torrent was? Flecks of foam and spray shoot up, coating the hanging stalactites in white froth.
With fear he gets a running start and jumps, landing half way in. With a gurgling cry he instantly gets sucked under, the rope going taut instantly. Zak is gone from view, and his splash is instantly lost in the swirling rapids on the surface. The rope comes alive in Kizzirark’s hand, pulling this way and that as Zak struggles under the turbulent surface.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark saw as his friend disappeared under the water and prepared himself to pull him back to the tunnel.
Please, Zak, tell me you remembered to tie the rope around your waist...
"Hold..." He started to talk, but who would listen to him? The rapids were strong but so was him.
Since Kizzirark can drag over a thousand lbs, I guess he would not need a Strength check to get Zak out of the water, but here it is.
Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12
GM Mowque |
If only it was so easy...
Kizzirark's muscles are like iron and he starts to haul his friend in. The rope stays taut and firm. Zak must have tied it and the half-orc sighs some relief. Soon he sees the furry head of his friend break water, and hears him sputter over the gushing torrent.
Suddenly the rope seizes up, stuck fast. It must be trapped in some jagged rock below the surface. No matter how strong he is, Kizzirark will never be able to pull him in that way.
Zak's head is above water but he is pummeled and swirled by the flowing water, throwing him this way and that. Soon the rope will part and the hapless mongrelman will be swept down the river, into dark and airless arches. [b]"The rope is stuck!"[/] he yells over the coursing stream, his arms flailing, helping to keep him upright.
Kizzirark Devorst |
For a moment Kizzirark thought about jumping in the water to rescue his friend, but it would probably just be the doom of both of them.
Better to use my brains this time...
He lowers his grip, testing if the rope would run and free itself from the rocks. Seeing no result, Kizzirark reaches for the other end of the rope and ties a loop.
"Zak! I'll throw you the other end... hold it and try to pass it around your head and arms!"
Throw Loop: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26 I guess he made it!
With his friend now secured, Kizzirark started to pull him again.
"Use your dagger, Zak! Cut the other end so I can free you! And please, do not cut the wrong one!"
GM Mowque |
In the frothing water Zak does his best to follow Kizzirark's demands. His motions are weak and battered but he just manages to follow them. Quickly Kizzirark's heaves in the man, as if he was a net full of fish.
He flops on the ground like one too.
The mongrelman is breathing at least, gasping and spitting out water.
"Took....took you long enough." he says with a smile but he is shivering, his skin looking blue and cold. A puddle of water drips off of him, making the floor slick with mud.
Meanwhile Moon barks a short distance away. It is not a panicked bark of anger or fear but one of discovery or interest. Kizzirark's knows her moods well after so many years in the dark together.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Visibly relieved, Kizzirark allowed himself to smile at Zak's joke.
"Right... you could also have swam instead of just drown." Seeing his friend's shivering, he stopped laughing. "Try to warm yourself... if you are unable to, let me know and I'll try to help you... anyway stay here for a moment while I check what Moon found."
He left Zak behind and walked towards Moon's barks while coiling the remaining rope together, trying to measure how much of it remained.
"What have you found girl?"
He was specially fond of that specifically bark. Not used to good news down there, any one that is not an immediate danger is already good news.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 10 + 2 = 23
Also, anyway to use Survival to find food underground, even at a higher DC? It would be mostly mushrooms and perhaps some blind fishes on the pools.
GM Mowque |
I'm ok with looking for food. It isn't easy but the Darklands have a far larger ecosystem then real life caves, of course.
Zak is still shivering when Kizzirark turns away. Only a few feet away, among some tumbled rocks near the rushing water Moon is pointing at a crevasse in the rocks.
At first Kizzirark sees nothing, but with Moon's help he finally finds the small secret hold. Inside is a rough bridge, made of bone and hide, obviously made to throw across the icy torrent. Kizzirark guesses it is derro in origin. In amongst the tangled bridge is a small cache of fungus and other derro foodstuffs and maybe some other rope.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Before searching Moon's findings, Kizzirark searched the place. It was quite probable for those who had hidden this bridge to also had prepared some nasty trap. Traps were not his specialty, but he thought it was better to let Zak rest for a couple more moments.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 10 + 2 = 19
"Moon, go fetch Zak... we'll need him."
He then inspected the bridge, trying to judge if it was sturdy enough and well built.
Not sure what check applies.
Appraise: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Knowledge (engineering): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
Well, it will obviously be handy once we return with the missing men.
Since he saw the river, Kizzirark involuntarily started to trace another way, knowing that they would never be able to cross it with more men. Moon's finding was a pleasant surprise and he made sure to show her his appreciation by scratching her ear slowly, just the way she liked.
He then took a look at the supplies, interested mostly in a spare hope, but any food would be nice. He sniffed it and carefully looked at the derro food and mushrooms, trying to determine if they were safe, before tasting it and giving a morsel to Moon as well.
Kizzirark then goes back to Zak and started to pack Moon back.
"How are you doing, Zak? We better start to move again... it will also warm you a bit... I forgot to buy some liquor in Deepholt, so no flash warmth for us..."
Knowledge (dungeoneering), compass, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 9 + 1 + 2 = 15
Survival, compass, deep knowledge, evader: 1d20 + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 = 37
GM Mowque |
Kizzirark investigates the tangle of rope and hide. It seems safe and the half-orc seems no trap.But he knows he is not the expert on the matter and derro are tricky and prone to leaving traps about.
The bridge seems to be sturdy enough, probably used by the derro to transport slaves and raiding parties across the stream. It looked to even have handrails, so safer then most such bridges in the Darklands.
Alas, grabbing the food was a mistake. That perception check of 19 wasn't quite enough.
As Kizzirark goes to grab the food however he finds his hand is suddenly tied by a knot of rope, and pinned painfully. The trap tightens intensely, obviously with some huge weight pulling it taut. The half--orcs hand starts to hurt immediately as blood gets cut off. Already the cord has begun to break the skin on his wrist.
At the same time a spark appears among the bridge, and a tiny tongue of flame appears among the dry bone and hide of the coiled equipment.
Moon barks loudly and Zak comes running up still sniffling and dripping wet. "What is going on?" he shouts, running up.
Kizzirark Devorst |
"Crap! Moon, get out of here..." Kizzirark tries to free himself from the trap.
Strength: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5
Seeing that his strength is not nearly enough, he drew his dagger and tried to cut the rope, freeing his wrist.
Damage (dagger): 1d4 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6
Just when I think things are going all right... His thoughts are interrupted by Zak's approach.
"This damned thing is trapped... get out of here! It will burst in flames in any second..."
GM Mowque |
Moon takes off, but reluctant to leave her master. Kizzirark hacks at the rope with fevered speed, the tight bond as strong as iron. Finally it parts, freeing the half-orc's hand, dripping blood onto the rocks of the hiding place.
Zak jumps back at Kizzirark's command, hesitating near the waterside. The fire catches more of the bridge and it starts to burn faster.
Kizzirark Devorst |
Kizzirark takes a quick look, trying to judge if the trap would spill fire again.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 10 + 2 = 31
If not...
He then tries to put out the fire.
"Zak, see if there are any blankets in our pack and soak them in water... we need to save this bridge!"
Not sure what check to make for this... survival perhaps?
GM Mowque |
Zak laughs suddenly, 'And here I am trying to get dry!". he hurries back, still squelching to get wet blankets. Moon whines at the smoky filling the tunnel, but stays still.
Finally, with skill, speed and a few lightly burned hands the pair manage to put out the burning bridge. Investigating it, Kizzirark thinks it can be saved but it'll take all the rope he has with him, to patch up the burnt parts.
Nothing else is found and the tunnel is, once again, full of the sounds of the rushing water.
Nicely done.It was quite possible to loose the bridge entirely.
Kizzirark Devorst |
"Hum... that was close..." Said Kizzirark after the bridge was saved. After pondering a while, he continued. "We'll need the remaining rope to make this bridge secure, but we could also need it ahead... I'll keep the rope with me and once we are on our way back we fix it."
The noise they made was quite intense, especially for the Darklands, so he made a sign to Zak and remained in silence for a couple of minutes, trying to listen to any noise that could indicate an approaching danger.
Perception, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 10 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 10 + 2 = 18
He then examined the extent of his wounds. "Zak, are you hurt?" Any wound would be better to be healed now.
I should not have abandoned my usual caution... this is not the way I survived this far... His thoughts were interrupted by Moon, and he decided it was better to get going.
"Well Zak, we already lost too much time here... better get going." He then packed Moon again and got prepared to move on once again.
Knowledge (dungeoneering), compass, deep knowledge: 1d20 + 9 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 9 + 1 + 2 = 18
Survival, compass, deep knowledge, evader: 1d20 + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 10 + 1 + 2 + 5 = 30