"I don't think we have time to make it back up the rope. Especially me, since I climb about as fast as a glacier thaws." Ssilax whispers back to the others. "And the first shop we come across down here, I'll be sure to buy a sling, I promise." A hint of a grin twist a side of the dragonkin's snout in a half-grin.
As the young Theurge whispers to the others, his clawed fingers work to untie his weighted spear. The dragonkin's reptilian sapphire orbs look into the darkness, straining to catch a glimpse of what approaches.
Wrathe offers his sling and stones to Daxniss, "I imagine you will put these to far more use than I will."
Holding a staff in one hand, and torch in the other makes it a bit burdensome to wield a sling and stone.
"Well, we need to move!
Argon starts moving what is ostensibly north, hoping the sounds don't follow them.
Daxniss nods at Wrathe's gift for the moment preferring to move with the other's getting into a better position to attack from behind, or even the side. Still at the moment it wouldn't be a bad call to have the rogue focusing her ranged abilities on striking as needed.
Readying a bullet for the sling, Daxniss prepares herself to strike at the first skeleton she sees.
Daxniss did agree with Argon, as she would rather keep moving before resorting into combat with who knows how many skeletons, it wasn't like the group was spotlit for choices. Grunting at the fact that Argon starts to move before the rest of the group Daxniss changes her plan, watching out for anything getting close to him.
Ssilax and Dog follow along. The young dragonkin keeps his eyes peeled for any place for them to hide. The Theurge tries to listen to the sounds as he moves. He was attempting to figure out if more skeletons where on the way. Bone walking across stone flooring sounds quite a bit different then booted feet.
Moving forward or back was the question, and with that question in mind Wrathe cocks back his arm and throws the lit torch towards the shuffling noise, hoping it was not about to slam into the front ranks of hundreds of undead.
Then again if they were about to meet that many undead he would like to know now before they proceed any further away from the rope.
Argon pauses long enough to watch the torch fly, and to wait for other to join him. He sees Ssilax coming, but the others seem to be hanging back for some reason.
He looks forward to see if there are any features visible ahead, other than floor and debris.
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The sound of bones or wood on hard rock can be heard. It seems more likely to be bones, considering everything. The floor is is rough hewn and littered with debris, plenty of rubble and sand, and even bits of old wood here and there.
The bone theory is confirmed when the torch flies forth and lands, producing a yellow circle of light farther west in the chamber. It reveals a horde of at least ten piles of animated bones, humanoid, all, some shorter and some taller. A few slow down to regard the now-close light, as if trying to determine whether this new thing is worthy of being utterly destroyed. A few of them hold weapons; clubs or blades.
All of them continue to race toward the lit up living beings they can see. They are now about sixty feet away.
Wrathe paces behind Argon, in his normal place within the marching order, picking his way through the debris as best as he is able.
"That door is looking better and better all the time."
" Aye, doors now rather than fighting a horde. If their is no way to open the doors at the moment then we will have to start picking off the leading walking bones. " Daxniss says while starting to move closer to the door.
Upon arriving at the doors, the rogue checks to see if the doors themselves are locked. Normally Daxniss would search the doors for traps and any other hidden surprise however, with a numerous amount of foes that would take too long.
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Daxniss starts moving toward the double doors to the west, but soon realizes the rest of the group is moving in another direction. The horde of skeletons is also to the west, and moving quickly in your direction.
The gang moves north quickly, though the ground occasionally requires a bit of climbing and jumping to navigate. Running fast, you eventually find the ground descending slightly as you go; and very soon yourselves approaching a wall. Along the base of this north wall, trapped between the wall and the floor, is a pool of water just about five feet wide.
Once you see the wall, you look around for some way out, for the skeletons are closing.
The wall runs east-west, and is pretty well vertical like the wall off to the west.
Toward the west, something resembling a ladder is attached to the wall.
Climbing down had been hard enough, so the young wizard rues the prospect of clambering up to the double doors. The ladder changed the picture significantly.
He was starting to get a really jaundiced eye when it came to Dainoth's collected intelligence for the mini-missions he sent the group on.
Wrathe bends down and quickly examines the pool of water using his master's staff, wondering if perhaps it was a passage way, or held something interesting within.
"Let me know if they get too close for comfort."
"The ladder!" Ssilax's says while panting. "Daxniss, head up first, since your the lightest. Dorian, your wounded so your up next, plus you can guard Daxniss's back. Wrathe, myself and Argon will follow up." The young dragonkin was keeping his sapphire orbs on the skeletons.
"Okay," Ssilax says, nodding to Wrathe. He then waits about two heartbeats. "They are too close for comfort." The young dragonkin says dryly.
Amber sunbursts flare to life as the Xthian turns, a firestorm reflected in his eyes, as his master's staff is raised over his head, his other hand calling down death into the centre of the gathered mass of inhumanity that is rushing towards them.
A split second before he releases the power contained within he hisses, "Avert your gaze." It is advice that the light sensitive Xthian plans to heed.
A globe of searing radiance (1000' range, Sunburst, 80' radius burst, Reflex Save vs DC 25 for half damage, those that fail will also be blinded, if specifically harmed by bright light the undead creature is destroyed if it fails it save) explodes silently within the undead ranks.
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The water is stagnant and smelly. Bits of fungus and lots of mold surround the rock near it.
The staff is a magnificent item, especially when used to deal with creatures of the darkness, and undead. The flash is so bright that all see it, even any with his or her eyes closed. Wrathe in particular, who had turned his eyes away at the last moment, still feels discomfort as the light travels through his eyelids and assaults his sensitive eyes. It is just for a moment, though, and when eyes are opened once more, the skeletons are gone. There are no bones to be seen, though a few small piles of whitish dust seem to have been made at the periphery of the groups' vision.
A few weapons, seen earlier in bony hands, are there for the taking if anyone wants them.
The ladder, it seems, has made promises to you it could not keep. Though the strong sides of iron had been regularly attached to the wall, the rungs had been made of bone, and had long ago turned fragile or disintegrated completely. It may be possible to climb the stronger iron sides, using the small rung braces every foot or so, but it will not be easy. And the iron itself is rusted, and some of the sections are likely going to come loose and possibly fall out.
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Dorian stares in awe--and trepidation--as Wrathe releases the Sun inside this cavern. He watches with ice-blue eyes blinking tears, as the skeleton mob disintegrates into white dust.
As quickly as it appeared, the brilliant light bows back to the darknesss, casting the group into a stunned silence.
Turning his head in the direction of the wizard, Dorian wipes his eyes with a satin handkerchief.
Applauding your decisiveness, I think that we may attempt the western doors. It seems our Daxniss has already decided thusly.
Contrails fo smoke lazily rises up from the end of his master's staff. Wrathe remains still for a time, both because he has been blinded by the bright light and also due to awe.
Such power would flow from his fingertips, without the need for magical adjuncts, of that he is sure.
Wrathe chuckles, finally able to see the scene about him, "Wow."
Ssilax was fairly proud of himself. He didn't succumb to his fear of fire this time. There had certainly been a great deal of fire here just a moment ago. 'I'm glad I wasn't on the receiving end of that spell," Ssilax thinks to himself with a slight shudder.
Blinking the after images from his eyes, he looks over at Wrathe.
"That seemed a touch excessive," the dragonkin says with a grin curling his snout.
"Excessive? I don't think so. I'm sure glad we have that staff, and the Wrathe knows how to use it. What else can it do?" says Argon, mightily impressed by that action.
He glances around, looking at the broken ladder and up to where it might lead. He inspects (from a distance) the wall near the top of the ladder, assuming he can see that part of it.
"We need to keep moving. I'm guessing only things in the sphere of light were killed, right, so there could be more?"
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The flash had been short, like lightning, but also like lightning, it had lit up the chamber, however briefly.
What you can piece together from what you each saw, looking away from the skeletons and to other parts, is that you're in a large chamber with a shape roughly rectangular; it is perhaps three hundred to four hundred feet wide, east-west, and perhaps two hundred and fifty to three hundred wide, north-south. The ceiling is very rough, but generally the same height throughout.
Also, there is perhaps some kind of structure in the northeast corner, and there is something below the doors on the west - a structure or long object.
Dorian thinks he saw another standing skeleton on the far east wall, and Daxniss thinks she might have seen one or two on the ground below the door (which is 40' up).
Your rope remains, a strange vertical line in a rough place.
Argon sees remnants of a platform above, leading from the top of the ladder toward the western corner of the room.
Daxniss wipes at her face, clearing the debris from whatever Wrathe had done to cause the skeletons in the dome of light to Freaking explode . Shaking her head, she ponders at the thought of at least three skeletons standing guard.
Letting out a grunt she whispers back " Sure, there are at least two more on over there below the door. " She points to where she had last saw them in the flash of light, it was going to be annoying bouncing back and forth between lighten areas and unlit areas.
Daxniss starts to creep forward, her borrowed Sling in one hand, getting ready for a skeleton to try and attack her on the way forward. The process would take longer however it might be safer then rushing forward.
(perception check while moving)
(stealth check for the next 10 ft)
(second perception check}
(third stealth check for next 10ft}
(third perception check for next 10 ft)
(fourth stealth check)
Argon nods and says, "To the door." He wonders how they'll get up to it.
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The group heads south and westward, following Daxniss and Dorian, who are ahead moving quietly. Soon, an ugly smell assaults the nostrils of the vanguard - the smell of rotten meat.
Once they are within sight of the west wall, a larger number of bones can be seen near the wall. Among them you see at least one body with flesh still attached to it. No doubt it is the cause of the smell.
On the wall, forty feet up, there is a small platform housing the double doors and the torch, which is burning with a magical flame. At the base of the wall is a ladder, iron and rusted, and only twenty feet in length. It is lying on its side, up against the wall.
Also in the vicinity is a single skeleton, about four feet tall, which turns when it seems to notice you, and runs toward you.
Ssilax had moved with the others, wrapped up in his own thoughts. Specifically, who created the skeleton and where they still operating down here. The sight of the bodies against the wall, one still with flesh attached made him think that there was. This looked like a dumping ground/storage.
The sound of his name snapped him back to the world around him. Spotting the small skeleton, the young Theurge mentally prepares to begin casting. Realizing that he has to angle himself a little so that he doesn't run the risk of hitting Dorian, the dragonkin goes wide to the right. Not to mention, Ssilax has to get within at least 30 paces so he is within range of his spell.
Svirfneblin Wrathe relays the powers of the Staff of Illumination, revealing what the spells dancing lights, flare, daylight, and sunburst do.
He shared the slayer's concern with how they were going to ascend to the doors, however in Rovagug's hairy nipples they were going to get up there.
The wizard moves up next to Argon, "If you shake the grapnel, would you be able to retrieve it from the lip of the hole we descended down? On the same note, should that prove to be the only way out of here, would you be able to throw it up and hook the edge once a..."
Wrathe stop as the stench hits him, which knits his eyebrows together. One did not expect fresh death to be found in ancient abandoned libraries.
The room was expansive, so he takes the opportunity to employ his master's staff to mete out justice to the approaching undead monstrosity, and misses by such a large margin that he decides to play it off like he was bringing the light source closer.
Daxniss let's a hiss of anger and moves into position, unable to get a clear shot with the sling without hitting the others, Daxniss angles herself to attack from an angle with Dorian. Lashing out with her quarterstaff, hoping to strike a potent blow at the skeleton.
With flank
If no flank
damage with flank and sneak attack
Damage if not able to flank
Argon can't hear Daxniss or Dorian very well, as they were moving along pretty quietly. Then the get in range of the skeleton, and shortly after Dorian speaks, alerting the undead to their presence.
He thinks he should have had his sling loaded already. Next time. For now, he loads it and fires a bullet at the skeleton.
However, the bullet goes wide, clacking off the wall behind.
Close enough to cast, Ssilax quickly summons up his arcane energy marks the focal points to release the energy with a few gestures.
Pointing at the small skeleton, a sizzling orb or acid appears before the dragonkin's claws. A eye blink later, it is racing towards the small undead.
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Ssilax's blob of acid hisses off the skeleton's shoulder, and then the others move in.
First are Daxniss and Dorian, who were leading the group, and now flank the poor skeleton. Daxniss tries out her quarterstaff, and is able to knock the thing's head off. At the same time, Dorian's attack is right on the mark as well, and his powerful blow in the sternum breaks the skeleton's body into several pieces, which are flung about the floor to join other bones which are, as should be expected, non-animated.
Wrathe runs up to join them, and then Argon and Ssilax, but the battle was over so quickly.
Wrathe moves past the dispatched skeletal construct, still trying to comprehend how powerful the youths had become, and moves over to discern what manner of creature was attached smell of rotting meat...and hopefully learning what had dispatched it.
There were tall and small skeletons, which remained a bit of a mystery, as was a set of double doors only accessible by avian folk. The library appeared to have been designed for man-sized creatures, so perhaps the Svirfneblin's tunnels had accidentally intersected with this underground complex.
Nodding mostly to himself as the skeleton falls to pieces, Ssilax looks up at the pair of doors. It looked like they should be able to get up there. It was just going to take a little work, loosening the grapple and then tossing it up to catch the small ledge. Not something he was particularly skilled with. Glancing back at the body that still had flesh, Ssilax walks over to examine the corpse.
Depending on the state of the corpse, the dragonkin might be able to narrow down what might have killed him. That might give them a slight edge in what to expect in the hidden library. If anything, it was something to help to keep his mind off of starving to death underneath the city.
"I'm thinking that we really should have asked Master Dainoth a lot more questions about this place," Ssilax says quitely to Wrathe as they look over the piled up remains.
"So, what do you think?" the Theurge asks his fellow apprentice. "Storage for more bodies to be animated later, or something's larder? I'm thinking storage currently. Unless there are lot's of bite marks on the flesh and the other gathered bones. That might change my opinion." Ssilax says as he runs a healer's eye over the bodies.
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The bones are in a scatter formation somewhat surrounding the door above. It is fairly clear, now that you're here and you can see it all, that they have been dropped from the platform in front of the doors forty feet up. Most of the bones are of humans, but you find what you think are a few Svirfneblin, Gnomes, Halflings, Elves, including an inordinately large proportion of bones of human children. There are also a few animal bones - you can tell by the skulls.
Amongst the scattered bones you find a rotting body, covered in flies and maggots. It is impossible to say whether it belonged to a human, elf, or something else, but it was full sized - at least five feet tall. Its flesh has decayed beyond recognition, but some of it has been removed and dropped on the ground. It is a gruesome thing with a horrible smell. Presumably the skeletons did not mind.
Argon inspects the rotted corpse with the rest, and then says, "I'll get the rope. I didn't really want to leave it behind anyways. If someone wants to come with me to cover me while I'm up and down..."
Not waiting long for an answer, he trundles off toward the hanging rope. He first climbs up to the hole.
(take 10 on climb, for 18).
Next, up in the hole, he glances down the passages in both directions in case anything is there. Then he removes the grapnel and pulls the rope up so that the middle is at the top, on the piton, and the two ends hang down. The rope should hang down almost to the floor. He turns it around a few times so that the two halves stay together, then he starts climbing back down, grasping both ropes as he goes down.
Once at the bottom, he untwists the ropes, and pulls on the side with the grapnel and the knots, so the other side goes up and then back down.
Daxniss ponders on what made all of the bones and the rotting corpse, whose smell was at least in the top ten worse things she had smelled. Letting out a grunt of disgust from the corpse, Daxniss chooses to help Argon with his task. " So far nothing has been triggered with all the noise we have made. I'll help Argon or more rather make sure that nothing grabs him. "
Wrathe kneels down, releasing the slight effort of will to return to his natural form so his scholarly robes are no longer hanging and bunching up, supported by his master's staff, in order to better examine the corpses. Putrescence did not appear to bother him overly, but considering his vocation, one that included necromancy in its repertoire, that probably was not a surprise.
Nodding along with Ssilax's words he concurs with his conclusions, "I would lean more forcefully for the former, rather than the latter, but only because they appear to have left quite a bit of meat upon the bone, considering the smell of rot that clings to this area."
Necromantic animation of skeletons was so far above his own abilities that he was concerned that they had found a foe far beyond them, though accompanying that worry was excitement that they might acquire the necromancer's spellbook.
He glances up at the elevated double doors.
"Though it appears that they have been in business for awhile, and have set this area up specifically for the purpose."
Perhaps they were in a holding pen for skeletal minions, who would be release via the ladder when it was needed. Perhaps it was the skeletons that dug out this chamber, or expanded it, which had them accidentally find their way into the ancient library.
The rot of the ladder made it a wonder if the necromancer had died long ago, though the rot of the bodies suggested otherwise.
Questions and more questions.
Nodding when Daxniss mentions guarding Argon's back, he waves a clawed hand in front of his nostril.
"I could never be a necromancer. I like my sense of smell too much," Ssilax says with a faint grin on his scaled snout. "Besides, I think you learn more about the body from the Healing arts." Tapping the side of his snout, he adds. "A number of more advanced healing practices are considered to be like "Grey necromancy," if one wanted to be technical. So, really it comes down to what one does with their necromatic arts." Ssilax looks from Wrathe and the others back at the pile of skeletal bodies. "Looks like nothing good here."
The dragonkin pauses for a few moments, looking at the small pile of rotting gore.
"It looks like one of the skeletons was stripping the flesh off of the body. Or was, at some point." Turning, the young Theurge looks up at the doors.
"Well, this is certainly the perfect place to work unmolested. This place is ancient, and not to mention well hidden from prying eyes." He looks back to check on Daxniss and Argon's progress. He was impressed by how quickly they where retrieving the grappling hook and rope.
"Maybe we'll be lucky and whomever was operating out of this place is dead and gone. That could happen." He says, looking rather unconvinced that they would be anywhere near that lucky.
"Did anybody check to see if the weapons that the skeletons where carrying were better than what ours are?" Ssilax asks of his friends. Gauging the quality of weapons was not something he really felt comfortable doing.
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Argon returns with the rope and grapnel. It seems if there are other denizens of this place, they are not interested in you at the moment.
Wrathe sees the doors up above and notices there is some carving or painting on it. It is fine, and so hard to see from this distance and angle.
The stench of death continues to insult your nostrils, so you feel a little urgency in getting out of here. Another smell is noticed, however, under the decaying flesh scent - that of sewer water.
Looking around, a perplexed expression on his scaled face, Ssilax's eyes light up. Lifting his muzzle slightly, the young Theurge sniffs at the air.
"I think I can smell sewage!" the dragonkin says excitedly. He pauses for a moment. "I never thought I would be happy to smell a sewer," he adds, with a slight shake of his head.
Wrathe points out the bas relief or painting to the others, and busies himself while the grapnel is employed trying to triangulate the location of the sewer water smell.
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Dorian begins a search for the mysterious, mighty savior.
I will attempt to locate the source of the sewer. If you guys could stay here. Argon can get the rope up to that door, while the rest of you stay alert.
He then turns to Daxniss, fangs glowing in Wrathe's light as he smiles.
Bowing, he states, By your leave, Madam
He then melts into the darkness...