Gameplay thread.
For Temur
You find yourself clad only in a loin cloth, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in complete darkness. You can hear the breathing and feel the body heat of a few other individuals who must be lying very close to you, but it so black that you can't make anything out.
Your body is sore; you have a throbbing headache; you are hungry and thirsty; you can't help but wonder how long you have been out for.
The air is musty and damp, and you get the impression that you in some sort of dungeon. However, there is also a hint of the pungent scent lotus smoke in the air. Above you, you can see a small spot of light about 20-30' up. It is as if there is a shaft above your head with an opening to some other room above you and you suspect the light may be from candles, torches or the like, for the light up above isn't bright enough to be daylight, and it doesn't filter down to provide any illumination to your location.
Up above from where you can set the light, you hear muffled voices.
The last thing you remember you were at a tavern near the West Gate of city of Shadizar called “The Jeweled Dancer.” It was said to have some the more attractive harlots in the district. Here you were drinking and carousing. You vaguely remember feeling very tired, and your body getting heavy- a sort of weariness that could not have been induced merely by alcohol. Your last memories involve several giggling harlots and the fat, sweaty bar tender coming over to check on you, and ask how your drink was. A smug, malicious grin crossed his face, as you lost consciousness.
As you try to recollect what happened and make sense of your situation, you hear voice from above. This time much louder. It is clear and cruel, and says only the following.
"Welcome to the Labyrinth of Azoth foreign heathens. Tonight shall be a glorious one for you because you are going to be giving your lives to honor Azoth.
I have shown you a kindness. There is a torch and a flint on the ground near your feet. Use it, so that you may see your end."
As soon as these words are uttered the point of light from above is briefly blotted out. Suddenly you feel a warm, liquid come splashing down on you, soaking your nearly naked body. You are pretty certain the liquid is not water.
At the same time, you hear the grating sound of some sort of mechanism a few feet away. It reminds you of the sound of a raising portcullis or some other gear and crank operated apparatus.
For Ardeth Bay
You find yourself clad only in a loin cloth, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in complete darkness. You can hear the breathing and feel the body heat of a few other individuals who must be lying very close to you, but it so black that you can't make anything out.
Your body is sore; you have a throbbing headache; you are hungry and thirsty; you can't help but wonder how long you have been out for.
The air is musty and damp, and you get the impression that you in some sort of dungeon. However, there is also a hint of the pungent scent lotus smoke in the air. Above you, you can see a small spot of light about 20-30' up. It is as if there is a shaft above your head with an opening to some other room above you and you suspect the light may be from candles, torches or the like, for the light up above isn't bright enough to be daylight, and it doesn't filter down to provide any illumination to your location.
Up above from where you can set the light, you hear muffled voices.
The last thing you remember you were at a tavern near the West Gate of city of Shadizar called “The Jeweled Dancer.” It was said to have some the more attractive harlots in the district. Here you were drinking and carousing. You vaguely remember feeling very tired, and your body getting heavy- a sort of weariness that could not have been induced merely by alcohol. Your last memories involve several giggling harlots and the fat, sweaty bar tender coming over to check on you, and ask how your drink was. A smug, malicious grin crossed his face, as you lost consciousness.
As you try to recollect what happened and make sense of your situation, you hear voice from above. This time much louder. It is clear and cruel, and says only the following.
"Welcome to the Labyrinth of Azoth foreign heathens. Tonight shall be a glorious one for you because you are going to be giving your lives to honor Azoth.
I have shown you a kindness. There is a torch and a flint on the ground near your feet. Use it, so that you may see your end."
As soon as these words are uttered the point of light from above is briefly blotted out. Suddenly you feel a warm, liquid come splashing down on you, soaking your nearly naked body. You are pretty certain the liquid is not water.
At the same time, you hear the grating sound of some sort of mechanism a few feet away. It reminds you of the sound of a raising portcullis or some other gear and crank operated apparatus.
Ardeth gets quickly to his feet, and crouches down long enough for his eyes to adjust as he takes in the situation. He picks up the torch but doesn't light it yet.
Your eyes make an attempt to adjust to the darkness of your surroundings. Thanks to the tiny trickle of light coming down from the shaft above and your keen senses, you can make out the forms of 3 other figures in the room sprawled on the ground. All of them are close enough that you could touch them. They seem to be regaining consciousness as well, but none of them have come to yet.
Without lighting the torch it is hard to discern much. However, you sense that you are in a fairly small room, and you are pretty sure that the mechanical sound you are hearing is some sort of portcullis/gate being opened. It is very nearby.
I'll also assume that you've picked up the piece of flint that was on the ground beside the torch, giving you a means to light it whenever you wish.
Ardeth moves silently to the edge of the chamber, avoiding the others. He presses himself flat against the wall and waits to see what they will do.
From somewhere out in the darkness beyond you can hear a muffled sound. It reminds you of an animal muling with pain.
Ardeth moves silently to the edge of the chamber, avoiding the others. He presses himself flat against the wall and waits to see what they will do.
Temur rolls away from the foulness pouring down and rises to a crouch, He scrabbles at the ground with his hands, trying to find anything that could be used as a weapon, even a loose sharp stone.
He calls up to the voices above:"Let me get my hands on you and I'll send you to meet your Azoth in person!"
Then he'll move a couple quick steps to the side, hoping to find a wall in the blackness.
And quieter: "If one of you found their damned torch, make some light. Whatever's down here with us, it'll be more used to the dark than we are."
Temur there is a damp stone wall within arms reach of you. Feeling around, you also find a fist sized hunk of rock that probably fell from the wall. It's by no means an ideal weapon, but its better than nothing.
In response to your comment, you hear some laughter trickle down from above.
At Temur's more quiet comment Ardeth smiles, "Don't be so sure." he says softly. "There's something out there, be quiet for a moment and listen." He then waits, listening closely for the mewling sound.
Back up against the wall, rock in hand, waiting and listening.
Listening for a couple of moments both Ardeth and Temur hear the mewling. It sounds somewhat distant and muffled. The sound is intermittent, and sometimes it sounds closer than at other times. What is consistent, is that it sounds like a creature that is suffering in some manner.
"....mmmnnnnhhhh..."
Juma
You are awakened by a large quantity of warm wet liquid splashing down on you.
You find yourself clad only in a loin cloth, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in complete darkness. You can hear the breathing and feel the body heat of a few other individuals who must be very close to you, but it so black that you can't make anything out.
Your body is sore; you have a throbbing headache; you are hungry and thirsty; you can't help but wonder how long you have been out for.
The air is musty and damp, and you get the impression that you in some sort of dungeon. However, there is also a hint of the pungent scent lotus smoke in the air. Above you, you can see a small spot of light about 20-30' up. It is as if there is a shaft above your head with an opening to some other room above you and you suspect the light may be from candles, torches or the like, for the light up above isn't bright enough to be daylight, and it doesn't filter down to provide any illumination to your location.
Up above from where you can set the light, you hear muffled voices.
The last thing you remember you were at a tavern near the West Gate of city of Shadizar called “The Jeweled Dancer.” It was said to have some the more attractive harlots in the district. Here you were drinking and carousing. You vaguely remember feeling very tired, and your body getting heavy- a sort of weariness that could not have been induced merely by alcohol. Your last memories involve several giggling harlots and the fat, sweaty bar tender coming over to check on you, and ask how your drink was. A smug, malicious grin crossed his face, as you lost consciousness.
As you try to recollect what happened and make sense of your situation, you hear the grating sound of some sort of mechanism a few feet away. It reminds you of the sound of a raising portcullis or some other gear and crank operated apparatus. Off in the distance you also can a muffled mewling sound, the sound a beast makes when it is in pain.
"...Argh, my head! you just wait until I get my hands on you, you fat bastard of a bar tender! I'll make you wish your mother had aborted you as she obviously should have! Still, I suppose it could be worse, I could be dead." the huge, stoic warrior mumbles to himself.
Finally beginning to gather his wits and equilibrium about himself, Juma hops to his feet but remains in a crouched fighters posture. Spinning on quiet soles to face the sound of the raising gate and the meweling, he spreads his large arms out, slowly backing away and to the left, trying to find the walls. If he does hit one, then, left hand now on the wall and right extended behind him, he continues to slowly back away from the sound. Meanwhile, while moving his feet in side to side sweeping motions he has been trying to find something to use as a weapon.
Again he speaks quietly, mostly to himself, this time in his native tongue
"I think me we are meant to be someone's food and someone else's entertainment."
His hand on the wall is also searching it for it's texture, trying to determine if there are any handholds or if the wall is at all climbable.
Juma, you only need to take about a step before you can reach the wall, and you can only move back a few paces before you reach a back wall. The room you're in seems pretty small and cramped. You guys fill it up pretty good. Your feet sweep the floor a little, but unfortunately this room seems to hold no more potential weapons.
The walls are rough and damp, but don't have much in the way of handholds; they would be very difficult to climb.
Bran
ou are awakened by a large quantity of warm wet liquid splashing down on you.
You find yourself clad only in a loin cloth, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in complete darkness. You can hear the breathing, shuffling and feel the body heat of a few other individuals who must be very close to you, but it so black that you can't make anything out.
Your body is sore; you have a throbbing headache; you are hungry and thirsty; you can't help but wonder how long you have been out for.
The air is musty and damp, and you get the impression that you in some sort of dungeon. However, there is also a hint of the pungent scent lotus smoke in the air. Above you, you can see a small spot of light about 20-30' up. It is as if there is a shaft above your head with an opening to some other room above you and you suspect the light may be from candles, torches or the like, for the light up above isn't bright enough to be daylight, and it doesn't filter down to provide any illumination to your location.
Up above from where you can set the light, you hear muffled voices.
The last thing you remember you were at a tavern near the West Gate of city of Shadizar called “The Jeweled Dancer," celebrating the justice you met out to treacherous Ludo. The place was said to have some the more attractive harlots in the district. Here you were drinking and carousing. You vaguely remember feeling very tired, and your body getting heavy- a sort of weariness that could not have been induced merely by alcohol. Your last memories involve several giggling harlots and the fat, sweaty bar tender coming over to check on you, and ask how your drink was. A smug, malicious grin crossed his face, as you lost consciousness.
As you try to recollect what happened and make sense of your situation, you hear the grating sound of some sort of mechanism a few feet away. It reminds you of the sound of a raising portcullis or some other gear and crank operated apparatus. Off in the distance you also can a muffled mewling sound, the sound a beast makes when it is in pain.
Grunting in unsurprised acceptance of his findings, Juma finally speaks to those who seem to sharing this situation with him "I am Juma. If any of you are awake in here with me, speak now. I know not where we are or how we came to be here, but I am quite sure it is not for our mutual benefit. If we work together though, our chances of getting out of here will be much better."
Backing himself into a corner after so that he only has two sides to concentrate on defending, Juma quietly waits for an answer. He hearing and other senses besides sight straining for the slightest clue as to what may be coming next.
Juma you are pretty sure that there are two others also on their feet pretty much within reach of you. You nearly tripped over at least one other who is still lying on the floor.
Grunting in unsurprised acceptance of his findings, Juma finally speaks to those who seem to sharing this situation with him "I am Juma. If any of you are awake in here with me, speak now. I know not where we are or how we came to be here, but I am quite sure it is not for our mutual benefit. If we work together though, our chances of getting out of here will be much better."
Backing himself into a corner after so that he only has two sides to concentrate on defending, Juma quietly waits for an answer. He hearing and other senses besides sight straining for the slightest clue as to what may be coming next.
Still waiting to find out whether these others are potential allies or foes to be dispatched, the huge warrior waits in quiet readiness, massive muscles coiled to spring in whatever direction, and in whatever way, is necessary.
"Crom.", curses a voice from the floor. "Smells like a Pict's woman in here..."
The figure attached to the voice rises from the floor, holding himself up against the wall until he's sure of his balance.
"Judging by the contents of the bucket they upended into our cell, I'd say you're correct.", he whispers,"Our hosts don't think much of us. What do you propose?"
Marking the voice from it's location as the body he nearly tripped over, Juma thinks 'That's one, two to go' and continues to wait.
It looks as though there are five of you in the cell altogether. 4 are now on their feet, but there seems to be one more on the ground.
Marking the voice from it's location as the body he nearly tripped over, Juma thinks 'That's one, two to go' and continues to wait.
For Xanos
You are awakened by a large quantity of warm wet liquid splashing down on you.
You find yourself clad only in a loin cloth, lying on a cold, damp stone floor in complete darkness. You can hear the breathing, shuffling and feel the body heat of a few other individuals who must be very close to you, but it so black that you can't make anything out.
Your body is sore; you have a throbbing headache; you are hungry and thirsty; you can't help but wonder how long you have been out for.
The air is musty and damp, and you get the impression that you in some sort of dungeon. However, there is also a hint of the pungent scent lotus smoke in the air. Above you, you can see a small spot of light about 20-30' up. It is as if there is a shaft above your head with an opening to some other room above you and you suspect the light may be from candles, torches or the like, for the light up above isn't bright enough to be daylight, and it doesn't filter down to provide any illumination to your location.
Up above from where you can set the light, you hear muffled voices.
You had come to Shadizar in search of a magical gem called the "Serpent's Eye." There you had been directed to a tavern near the West Gate of city of Shadizar called “The Jeweled Dancer." The place was said to have some the more attractive harlots in the district, but you were more interested in business than pleasures of the flesh. You were to meet a man named Saleem. Saleem was said to be knowledgeable about the city and in particular the whereabouts of various arcane artifacts and relics. Saleem seemed friendly enough, and asked you many questions about your interest in the eye, which you brushed off as best you could. He insisted on sharing a decanter of wine with him. You vaguely him spouting out some words about the eye being in the possession of some noble family that you can't recall the name of.
The last thing you remember is feeling very tired, and your body getting heavy- a sort of weariness that could not have been induced merely by alcohol. A smug, malicious grin crossed Saleem's face, as you lost consciousness.
As you try to recollect what happened and make sense of your situation, you hear the grating sound of some sort of mechanism a few feet away. It reminds you of the sound of a raising portcullis or some other gear and crank operated apparatus. Off in the distance you also can a muffled mewling sound, the sound a beast makes when it is in pain.
"If you'd stay quiet and listen a moment, you'd hear there's something out there. It doesn't seem to be getting closer. The dog up above said something of a labyrinth. We'll probably have to wander through it if we're to have any chance of getting out. The damn thing's probably sitting by the exit.
Someone want to kick that last body and see if he's dead or if he plans to join us?
From the sound of the rumble echoing from the man's chest he hardly seems human. It seems laced with the crackle of flames. A faint smell of smoke drifts off him and strange faint lights begin dancing across his skin, like dying coal fires in cracks shaped like strange runes.
Not again. Not another prison.
Quiet. I need to think.
Just let me loose. No need for thinking. Just a need for blood. Fire. You are weary. Let me...
No.
The coalfire markings began to fade to black once more.
His eyes opened in the darkness and he slowly, painfully reached his knees.
"I am Xanos." a voice like distant thunder rumbled in the dark. "I know there are others here, but I cannot see. Tell me our numbers."
"About time you boys woke up." Ardeth purrs demurely in his smoky voice. "Shield your eyes." he says before striking flint to steel and lighting his torch. After the flames flicker to life, he will glance around the floor to see if there are any more loose stones that could be used as a weapon. "Whatever is down here with us sounds like someone stabbing an infant. We should find and dispatch it before my headache gets any worse."
The man revealed in the firelight is unlike anything any of them have seen. His skin is dark as stained blackwood and covered in runic tattoos, the most prominent of which is a broken spiral in the center of his chest. His eyes are a strange pale blue, like they belong to an Aesir.
His head is shaven and his stature quite large. Very large in fact. As he stands he towers over most, matching the height of the Kushite near him (though he is not so massively built as that one).
He wears only a loin-cloth and a pair of silver bracers. Blood is caked on his wrists and forearms at the edges of them. His hands are tightly clenched, but wisps of shadowy dark and slightly-glowing pale smoke seep from between his fingers.
He seems only mildly annoyed and barely concerned, standing there in the dark, dripping wet and nearly naked.
Bran shields his eyes from the sudden light, running fingertips over the walls for cracks in the masonry where another prisoner may have hidden a makeshift weapon.
He is the palest of the prisoners, with shoulder-length dark hair and dark eyes, a face like it's chiseled from a rock, all square angles. He's got a heavy build, but he's not nearly so large as the Kushite and the Hyrkanian. He appraises the dark giant with the tattoos with more than a hint of apprehension.
"Oh, of course. I was going to just lay here and die, but if your head's bothering you I suppose it's my duty to help you sort it out first.", the young Cimmerian whispers dryly.
"Between the five of us we can likely subdue whatever wretch that is... or at least choke it with one of us so the other four can sort out our hosts. Let's get on with it."
Now that there is light, the others can see the man-giant named Juma. Easily standing head and shoulders over most men, massively muscled, and with hands that look as if they could crush a man's skull, one could in truth almost believe him born of giant kin. Skin so black as to be nearly blue, and also sporting a shaved head, Juma is as naked as the rest of them with only a simple cloth girding his loins.
Juma stares for a moment at the one calling himself Xanos. Almost never did the Kushite meet another who matched him in height. Yet that was not what held his gaze. What raised the small hairs on his neck was that the other smacked of sorcery, something Juma was, at the best of times, not very comfortable with. Still though, Xanos was down here with the rest of them, and for the moment at least, a potential ally.
"So, five of us then" the deep voice rumbles quietly out of the massive chest "Three of whom choose not to name themselves. Very well. But I'll have you know I'll not let any man at my back who will not even share his name. In fact, I can see over the rest you, so I shall bring up the rear. Let's go." his statements are not suggestions, and his tone, backed by his size, is not one most men would would think twice about belaying.
As he waits for the others to move off, the giant also looks around for anything to use as a weapon. Including anything that he, with his prodigious strength, might be able to snap or break off.
"My name is Ardeth." he says quietly. He appears exactly like his avatar, except that he is now as naked as the rest of the men in the cell. His skin is a dusky tone, somewhat lighter than the Kushite. His long hair falls in dread locks down his shoulders and his goateed beard is braided until it ends in a small brass cap. While he might be tall next to some, he looks small and slight next to Juma, Xanos and Bran. Despite this he moves with the grace of a hunting cat as he sweeps the torch around the cell.
The Cimmerian jabs a thumb at his chest.
"Bran."
"And I am called Temur."
In the torchlight you can see that he's smaller than the giants in the cell, but still well built, wiry rather than huge. His tanned skin is crossed with old scars.
Temur slides along the wall towards the portcullis. Let's see what's out there.
It take a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sputtering torch light. You find yourselves in a cell that is bout 10' by 10'. The ceiling of the cell slopes up into a doom. At the the top of the doom is a shaft that leads straight up. The shaft has a diameter of about 3 feet at most.
Other than the shaft there is a single exit out of the room. One of the walls is entirely made up of a portcullis, which has just finished being raised up. Beyond the raised portcullis a damp, narrow tunnel extends about 40' before ending at a T intersection; there are several side tunnels branching off of it.
The tunnel is wide enough for you to go two at time if you wish, but it is tight and such a marching order wouldn't leave a lot of room for swinging weapons. However, since you don't have any weapons... It is about 9' high giving plenty of head room for a man of Juma's stature. In fact the tunnel could easily accommodate a creature significantly larger.
Part way down the tunnel you can see what appears to be skeletal human remains. A few fallen rocks dot the floor. The tunnel itself appears as though it has been carved directly through bedrock, and at regular intervals rotting wooden pillars and beams strain to support the heavy load.
Proceed as you wish.
If no other weapons are availible, I will pick up a femur from the skeleton and snap it in half, making sure to leave a sharp point. He will look at the others, and indicating the torch left on the floor says "Would someone else like this? I don't really need it, and I'd prefer to not be lit up like a beacon." Without waiting for a response he slinks forward to the T intersection, and before looking past either corner stops to listen for the mewling sound.
"I'll take it.", Bran says, before he stoops to look at the pile of bones for tooth marks and other possible clues as to how big the mewling thing could be.
Juma also grabs a femur or else the biggest intact bone he can find. He doesn't bother to snap it, as he figures that will happen after the first time he hits something.
As he reaches the bones and intersection he searches for tracks or remains he can recognize and sniffs for any scent that might give him a better idea of what they will be facing. He also pays close attention to what direction the torch seems to be blowing in.
Xanos simply follows watching the actions of the others and waiting.
They toy with us, set down in this place for sport. You have let us become chattel.
Perhaps it will teach you humility
Perhaps you are a fool
That is quite enough from you
"Ardeth, you seem comfortable in the dark. Go ahead. I'll follow at the edge of the light. The rest of you come along behind."
He'll grab another rock, one more suitable for throwing, before following Ardeth to the corner.
How the f*ck did I end up covered in piss in a pit? Again? Lotus you old hag, you really own me don't you? Ardeth has a pained sour look on his face as he nods to Temur and slinks off into the shadows of the corridor towards the mewling sound.
Ardeth now has makeshift bone dagger. Bran is carrying the torch and a rock. Juma has a femur for a club, Temur has a couple of rocks, and Xanos is currently unarmed.
Bran stops at the skeleton to examine it, and look for an indication of damage to the bones.
Bran's check: 2d6+ Mind 1+Barbarian 2
Bran you can tell that there is some serious damage to the skeleton. It looks like something very strong has smashed in the skull, and there are some bite marks on one of the arms. You estimate the the mouth that made the marks would be bigger than a man's but not overly large.
In the torchlight you all notice that you are each covered with red blood, which you are pretty sure is the liquid that dowsed you moments ago. The floor of the cell also has plenty of blood on it.
Cautiously you begin making your way down the tunnel to the T intersection. Ardeth leads the way, moving with practised stealth, staying just ahead of the torchlight. It is pretty clear that you are in some sort of labyrinth. The mewling noise seems to be coming deeper in the labyrinth. In fact there might be more than one mewling sound.
Juma keeps his eyes open for signs of whatever beast is lurking in the tunnels. Juma spots a pile of white and grey skat on the ground in the tunnel extending left from the intersection. There isn't much in the way of tracks left on the stone floor, and Juma is a little out of practise with his tracking skills.
Juma tracking: 2d6+ Mind 0 + Barbarian 1 2d6+1=7
Finally, you can't help but wonder why Xanos is still wearing clearly valuable silver bracers when the rest of you have been stripped of all gear.
As a seasoned hunter, Ardeth will keep his eyes peeled for signs of passage as he goes. Tracks, scat, hair, etc. He pauses to listen at each turn before continuing on.
"It cracked his skull open... and it doesn't have a great bite. No wolf or hunting cat we're dealing with. Mayhap the labyrinth's hunters stand on two legs... Instead of wandering in the hope of getting lucky, perhaps we should make our way to one edge of the labyrinth and work our way in tighter circles toward the center- as if searching for someone in the wild."
Traversing the passages, Bran is careful to remain more than an arm's length from Xanos.
"What manner of man are you, black one, that your flesh is alight in darkness, carved with fell symbols and you are left with jewelry while everything we own was taken?"
"I am... complicated." the one called Xanos rumbled.
"It appears they tried to remove my... jewelry. I would thank them if they had somehow succeeded." he said wryly, glancing down at his forearms and the blood caked along the edges of the bracers.
"The marks on my skin are answers to very old questions. You need not fear letters and words, Bran. They are only tools. Is it the sword that is dangerous, or the arm behind it?"
"Bah! 'Only tools'. Letters and words are even more dangerous than swords and axes, especially if they stink of sorcery as much as your jewelry and carved skin. Half-truths and omissions are bound to be the most deadly of that arsenal."
"Spoken like a man who uses letters and words as weapons" Juma rumbles ominously from the rear. "You reek of sorcery Xanos, and I like it not. Yet for the moment we are allies, so if your witchery provides you another weapon against our enemies, then so be it. Just see it your dark pacts seek not to feed on any of us for the powers they grant you." the threat in his words clear he glares at the scarred man a moment more.
Then to Bran "I care not what manner of beast lurks in these halls. I seek only to escape and have my vengeance on those who put me here. Take heed to which direction the flame leans, following it should eventually lead us to an exit/"