Karethas- just a flat DC 10 caster level check.
Amir steps forward ready to meet the rush. Faelar slurs down the scale and a grease slick appears beneath the gnolls in the center of the hall. The veterans remain standing however as Kzrira's shots fly past to hit one of the priests. The foul gnoll priest offers a bestial howl and breaks the arrows off from where they have pierced the mottled splint mail.
The warriors step forward, one nearly slipping in the grease stays in place, but the other three stay beyond melee range as they each pull what appears to be a severed human head from their sides and lob them at the party!
The awkward objects tumble in the air however and all miss their targets to burst on the floor and ceiling disgorging tiny scorpions. They break apart near enough that a few flying scorpions land on the back line and sting.
The rough priests don't seem particularly interested in casting and rush forward bearing corroded battle axes. They skirt the grease which ruins their charge, but they manage to reach Kzrira and Amir. Sholeh is ready however and slices the evil cleric. Neither priest in their fury comes close to injuring their foes.
Despite Karethas' concern, the majority feel it wiser to remove any chance of a strike from behind. The door is quickly cleared once the brief magical fatigue has waned. Curious to find out what the Carrion Harem feared so much, the doors are opened to reveal the threat beyond.
Beyond is a hall some eighty feet long with three doors spaced twenty feet apart on the west side. The east side is a colonnade that follows the wall until it opens up to the left near the end of the hall. The threat blocks the passage some twenty feet ahead- four male gnoll warriors and a pair of priests. They are apparently taken aback by the unexpected sight of something other than hairy gnoll ho's.
Amir 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
Karethas 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Faelar 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Kzrira 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
foe 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8
Wish warp has already been discussed:
Karethas ibn Faradin wrote:
right you are, Kzrira. I didn't backtrack far enough in the messages. Exhaustion doesn't apply that round and yes, "If the character has a penalty for low Strength, apply it to damage rolls when he uses a bow or a sling".
Amir draws his other blade and hits with his off-hand attack. Kzrira quickly finishes that gnoll and the other member of the harem with two swift and deadly arrows. Unnaturally fatigued from the encounter, the team pauses to rest a moment and further inspect the room.
Among the soiled pillows where the gnoll concubines reclined are three unbroken ornate hookahs, a well made satchel that contains a beautifully crafted book of erotic poetry, and a fancy alabaster jewelry box. There is also a broken urn etched with a flock of doves and six unopened bottles of bitter wine.
The doors to the east were closed by Karethas' spell and the doors south are shut behind a pile of rubble.
Caster level check only needed for actual spells.
Kzrira steps away and fires an arrow pointblank into the throat of one gnoll. The second shot mortally wounds the strung out gnoll on Faelar. Faelar begins an inspiring song which hardly seems necessary with the sorry state of the attackers. Karethas finishes the wounded gnoll with a glob of acid. The remaining gnolls on Amir and Kzrira can barely lift their makeshift weapons which are easily dodged.
The four survivors of the gnoll harem rush upon you. Two assault Kzrira with a hooka and bottle. The hooka hits shattering. Kzrira-2 bludg. The other two go for Amir and Faelar. The bard manages to duck while continuing his song. Amir is hit by a bottle Amir-3 bludg
Faelar's spell goes off, but not as anticipated. No one falls asleep, but suddenly everyone is weary to the point of exhaustion.
Faelar Braegen wrote:
Welp, the first round was casting the spell. The failed caster check doesn't bode well, but who knows what will happen? The spell may be interrupted depending on whether Karethas can intercede. I don't think anyone is threatening.
Amir 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Karethas 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Faelar 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (15) + 4 = 19
Kzrira 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Ho's 1d20 ⇒ 16
The others look to Faelar to take care of the disheveled gnolls and the bard obligingly begins his spell. it is a 1 round spell so goes off at the start of Faelar's next turn and will require a caster level check. Anything else Kzrira or Karethas.
The descending stairs are still somewhat choked by charred webbing, but passable. They end in a door that seems to be ancient, but in fair condition. Amir's inspection reveals nothing threatening.
The door opens to a room garishly decorated with weathered furniture, faded tapestries, and broken mosaics- all once rich and lavish items that time has robbed of their value. Dark stains smear the walls and excrement litters the corners. There is the smell of pesh and cheap perfume that can't quite cover the stink of gnoll, feces, and carrion. A pile of rubble and broken furnishings seal an archway to the south. There are double doors to the east.
Amidst the squalor, lounging in various drunken and drugged states are five gnoll b%~@&es dressed in ragged finery. They puff on hookahs and drink wine from tarnished brass cups and seem barely to register your entrance.
Amir Awad Hajjir wrote:
Oh foo on 3.0/3.5 and the magical equivalent of sub vocal walkie talkies. But yes I know not everyone wants to rock it old school. :p
fah, AD&D likely had the equivalent in some fat book- Mordenkainen's Mysterious Microphone or Bigby's CB something like that.
to clarify, from Lazrul's room, the spider tunnel went south (20x80)to a busted door into a smaller passage that continues south. You took a side door instead to an unburned passage that ended in the warped door.
Karethas ibn Faradin wrote:
Are the protection spells from earlier still up?
the climb took quite some time, but let's say you have 30 min left.
Still warded from the heat, you push on. The nearest door is stuck, but burned to charcoal from the fire and gives way with a kick or two. A short reconnaissance reveals that the hall goes about 40 feet before ending in another door.
Karethas keeps a close watch on the fire beyond the roaring wall of wind. After a few moments, it appears the fire has reached its apex and the conjurer sends a water elemental in to extinguish the fires. It takes several moments and a gust of steam as the wind shelter falls, but the fire has been extinguished leaving only the blackened hall behind.
The two slaves freed by Faelar say nothing, but give you and the still blisteringly hot corridor wide berth. Though the unprotected might be burned by the hot walls of the corridor, there is a charred door to the near left and an open doorway at the end of the thirty foot hall.
Amir's torch is magical and although it provides light, it does not burn. Rummaging through his pack however, he is able to provide some oil and tinder twigs which when combined with a club and Lazrul's old loincloth produce a makeshift torch.
The webs quickly flare into yellow fire when Kzrira touches the torch to them. They burn a little too well actually. Within moments, the hall roars into an inferno producing heat and smoke that begin to fill the underground chambers and leave you gasping for the thinning air!
you never said whether you actually untied the slaves. If not, they are now screaming for help.
The two Garundi men look at Amir oddly and one finally replies, "What happened? You killed Lazrul. We were all slaves of the gnolls. The witch made us dig through these ruins. She was looking for something. Lazrul was very strong. He killed our gnoll guards and then he was our master. More gnolls will come soon."
The enlarged arm and twisted legs could be natural deformities. They do not look to have been acquired later in life. Whether they were an accident of birth or inherited from freakish miscegenation or even a side effect of the wish warp is unclear.
The slaves do not have anything of value. Among the supplies piled against the wall opposite the barred doors are many ancient ceramic urns and pottery pieces. Most have been broken, but a few might have some value though they would be fragile and cumbersome to transport.
The men fall asleep immediately at the droning sounds of Faelar's spell. Amir moves to intercept the now unarmed boss.
He cuts into the giant arm as the deformed man raises a huge hand to beat down the old rogue. Amir thrusts again at the awkward stroke.
He misses, but the assault throws off the ogrish man's balance and the big fist swishes through the air.
CL check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25
The big log suddenly glistens with conjured grease shooting out of the deformed cacique's great grasp to bounce off the ceiling and crash to the floor. His surprise is punctuated by pain as Kzrira fires a pair of arrows into him.
Kzrira Maiwith wrote:
Pretty sure we rested after the trog fight.
Affirmative, you slept after the trog encounter. Also, still in wish warp territory. I kinda forgot, but Ks' caster check is good.
Karethas does something with those pearls he is always fondling... Kzrira turns her attention to the ogrish oaf on the throne and one shot hits, but hangs loosely after it barely penetrates his cuirass. It isn't much of a wound, but it catches the other slaves' attention. One goes down a moment later as Amir clops him over the head counterpointing Faelar's clapping rhythm. The slave wounded by Kzrira pushes past her and out the door leaving the two others and Lazrul.
The grotesque boss stands knocking the arrow from his chest as he grabs a wooden brace as tall as he is that he apparently intends to use as a club. He moves forward slowly on deformed legs circling the grease slick. The fallen man finally regains his footing just barely. His companion presses back against the wall.
In a moment, two slaves are severely wounded and two are lying on the floor. The slaves are obviously outmatched, however one manages a lucky strike on Kzrira as she reaches for another arrow. Amir easily knocks aside the club swing of the other. A third slave manages to stand and step from the slick floor while his companion falls again. Lazrul howls in annoyance at the incompetence shown by the slaves.
Lockjaw Stoneshield wrote:
Fort Immune Disease
just keep reminding me about that and SR, Lockjaw. maybe I'll remember someday.
Karrak doesn't seem to register the canid thing in the garbage and bends to attend Lockjaw's wounds. Chitleen however, recognizes the dog-like gremlin with a visible shudder. It is a pugwampi, a foul gremlin that resembles a bipedal asthma hound chihuahua. The bizarre creatures are surrounded by an aura of misfortune and as with many fey, have a slight resistance to spells and weapons not made of cold iron. They worship gnolls much to the hyena-men's disgust.
The strange little creature gives a squeal when it realizes that it has been spotted.
Chitleen 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16
Karrak 1d20 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 + 2 = 14
Lockjaw 1d20 ⇒ 18
Tararr 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
pugs 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
no traps here so I'll assume keep it moving.
Amir's inspection finds nothing suspicious about the door. The old wood creaks and groans as it is opened and reveals a long lit chamber beyond. The room is some 40 feet long and 20 wide. Blue ceramic lamps hang from copper chains to provide light. A collection of boxes and ancient urns are stacked along the north wall and rubble piled against the the only exit, double doors to the south. At the far end, a mound of bricks have been piled into a crude throne.
Upon the throne sits an ogre-like man dressed in a filthy studded leather vest and loincloth. Four smaller humans huddle before him, dirty and clad only in scraps. The man on the throne stands on bandy legs as you enter and with an enormous mismatched right arm lifts a huge fist at you. "I am LAZRUL! These are MY halls!" he challenges.
With a growl he swings the massive arm over the heads of the others who grab clubs and cautiously move toward you. The strange figure on the throne sits down again and picks up what looks like a lizard to chew on while he watches.
Amir 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Karethas 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (6) + 6 = 12
Faelar 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11
Kzrira 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Lazrul, et al 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15
Karethas and Faelar take the brunt of the cave-in. The wizard has to be assisted to free himself from the mound of debris that covers him. Faelar manages to roll the heavy rock off himself.
As soon as Karethas can manage to stop coughing, he puts his mind to what just happened. The spell was certainly cast correctly, but something is off about the flow of magic here. Eastern Garund is no stranger to disruptions to the current and flow of magical energies- just look at the Mana Wastes. This could be something similar. Perturbations in the magical field left from the overuse of wishes in the genie war that once centered on this mountain. Or perhaps something else.
A '1' is never good...
Karethas begins his conjuration and then feels the normally controlled and reliable magic that flows through him surge in unpredictable ways. There is a tremor through the tunnel and the desired earth comes from much closer though not sentient as the section of tunnel collapses above you. All-19 bludge, Ref DC 15 for half.
The temperature has moderated the further you've moved from the strange shrine below. Even without your magical protections, you would be comfortably warm at this point. Karethas feels something else though. A weirdness in the atmosphere similar to how he felt in the shrine to Nethys some months ago.
Karethas and Faelar:
Give me a caster level check (1d20+5) whenever you cast here, please.
Getting back on their feet and bending already aching backs to duck beneath the low ceiling,the adventurers move forward just as there is a crashing sound and a plume of rock dust rises from the chimney. Apparently, there will be no returning that way.
Continuing, the passage continues to slope gently upward and narrows to a tight hole. On the other side, the way takes on a more excavated aspect as it continues southward and you see a roughly repaired hole in the east wall. It looks like three boulders were packed in to patch it and the clay mortar is still drying.