"Hm, unfortunately I can only conjure one per day. It lasts all day, so we needn't fear losing it's use. The main problem is if I'm,... incapacitated, it will simply follow me wherever I'm carried." He shrugs.
"Even magic has limitations." He says sagely.
Pharris turns slightly at Keildrithe's words and shakes her head. "I will not be leaving here unless the battle is won. But I cannot do this alone, everyone matters because you are my strength."
Laithe and Nicolai find nothing in their search of the chamber, though a slight chill seems to emanate from the bas-relief of the savage warrior on the south eastern stretch of wall.
Pharris turns slightly at Keildrithe's words and shakes her head. "I will not be leaving here unless the battle is won. But I cannot do this alone, everyone matters because you are my strength."
"Given how we've already expended significant resources, Pharris, I was only suggesting that if the battle goes against us, we should be able to make a quick escape... if only to live and return to fight later. I would not consider a battle won if it cost some of our companions their lives, especially if the battle could be won if fought strategically without requiring the sacrifice of any one's life... There is no shame in effecting a temporary, strategic withdrawal if it could achieve the latter end..."
Nicholai shivers as he and LAithe walk near a spot on the southern wall.
"Yes,... I happen to agree with Keildrithe. Anything that involves not dying gets my vote." HE says distractedly.
"Laithe, is that, a draft,... or did someone just walk over my grave?!?" He asks, holding out his hand towards the wall, coin held high. The shadows from the light cause the bas-relief image to appear to frown at the dandy intruder.
There's no draft ... just a chill.
There's no draft ... just a chill.
:)
"Hm. Must be my imagination." Nicholai mutters, glancing suspiciously at the bas-relief carving."
"Given how we've already expended significant resources, Pharris, I was only suggesting that if the battle goes against us, we should be able to make a quick escape... if only to live and return to fight later. I would not ....... a temporary, strategic withdrawal if it could achieve the latter end..."[ooc]I believe that Alton's rope gets us out of the stone trapdoor at the top and not up and out the stone plug. ...
..my strength."
"Hadn't thought of that," answers Pharris in a small voice. She shakes her head at her own naivety. "You are right and it's the elven way, hit and run is."
There are three unexplored passages away from this chamber. The illusionary warlord approached from the west. A short exploration of the northern passageway reveals that it ends in a pile of rubble after about twenty feet – apparently unfinished. This leaves the west and south tunnels as viable ways forward – or the east to retreat.
Nicholai rubs his chin thoughtfully, brow furrowed in thought. He then points slowly to the west passage.
"The warrior image came from that direction. I'm thinking that if that's the direction they were trying to scare people away from, it might worth investigating?" He asks the others.
Nicholai rubs his chin thoughtfully, brow furrowed in thought. He then points slowly to the west passage.
"The warrior image came from that direction. I'm thinking that if that's the direction they were trying to scare people away from, it might worth investigating?" He asks the others.
Laithe feels the chill Nicholai speaks of and lingers at the wall looking for its source. But finding nothing, he turns his attention to the two tunnels.
"We have to start somewhere, so it might as well be there" he says in response to Nicolai's indication of the Western tunnel. He ventures down the hall cautiously, looking for any sign of dnager as he goes.
"I'm glad we see eye to eye, Cympharrisong," says Keildrithe to the amazon with relief evident in his tired voice. "The elven way sounds wise," he says with a smile. He then follows his companions down the west branch, walking on the periphery of the light cast by Nicolai's ensorcelled coin.
The westward passage turns north-west after a short distance, and opens out into an unlit chamber ahead. Your footsteps echo loudly on the stone floor, but beyond that all is quiet.
Nicholai peeks over Laithe's shoulder, looks at the druid, smiles.
"Alright, let's have a look, shall we?" He asks softly, holding up the first of the two glowing coins. "Ready?"
When he's sees that everyone is prepared, he tosses the coin with an underhand motion that flings it through the doorway. He holds the other coin closed in his fist to keep the glare from affecting their eyes, and lifts his own crossbow up,...
The glowing coin illuminates a chamber carved from the stone. A large alcove to the north contains a raised section of floor, atop which lie two low slabs of stone. They are empty apart from some mangy furs, scraps of cloth and small nick-knacks. Another alcove to the west contains a number of stone benches and pottery urns, with various objects stacked on and around them. To the south there is another passageway, with a hint of flickering light coming from somewhere down its length.
The chamber appears otherwise empty.
Pharris moves up and prods the furs with her sword at arms length.
"Gifts for their Gods."
"And let me stab the next illusion to find out its truth. I'm not good at images and figments but one of you will surely know if I am fighting a ghost and we will not waste anymore magicks that way. I can not believe I am saying this, waste magicks....always thought of them as a waste before now."
Pharris turns her head to look at Nicolai, waiting for some sharp comment from the clever mage.
Pharris’s poking and prodding of the objects on the slabs reveals that some of the nick-knacks are shiny, golden and bejewelled ...
Pharris moves up and prods the furs with her sword at arms length.
"Gifts for their Gods."
"And let me stab the next illusion to find out its truth. I'm not good at images and figments but one of you will surely know if I am fighting a ghost and we will not waste anymore magicks that way. I can not believe I am saying this, waste magicks....always thought of them as a waste before now."
Pharris turns her head to look at Nicolai, waiting for some sharp comment from the clever mage.
Nicholai widens his eyes innocently and places the fingertips of one hand dramatically on his heart in a, 'Who, Me?' gesture.
"Waste not, want not." The dandy murmurs with a nod of agreement. His small grin barely visible. "And when we run out of images and the dangers become real, I would rather your length of steel between us and it than an ephemeral enchantment!"
"Hm, Those seem to clash with those old furs, don't you think?" He adds, pointing to the shiny bits dislodged by the elf maid's poking.
"Hm, Those seem to clash with those old furs, don't you think?" He adds, pointing to the shiny bits dislodged by the elf maid's poking.
"Not more illusions?" Laithe asks, eyeing the gold. "It would not surprise me in this place"
He makes no move to investigate the treasure further, instead retreiving the light coin Nicolai had flicked into the room and turning his gaze down the southern passage, towards the flickering light.
The southward leading passage angles away to the south-west after about twenty feet, obscuring the source of the light and whatever else lies at the tunnel’s end. The flickering, yellow appearance to the light makes it appear as firelight. All is quiet – if there is a fire, Laithe cannot hear the crackle of the flames.
The apparent treasure on the slabs comprises of a several bracelets, necklaces and earrings. They are constructed in quite a chunky, primitive style, but are formed of precious looking metals and stones.
Alton rubs his hands together as he eyes the treasure. 'This place just got a whole lot better!' He starts a search of the rest of the room, to see if he can find anything else of value.
The southward leading passage angles away to the south-west after about twenty feet, obscuring the source of the light and whatever else lies at the tunnel’s end. The flickering, yellow appearance to the light makes it appear as firelight. All is quiet – if there is a fire, Laithe cannot hear the crackle of the flames.
"Another illusion?" whispers Keildrithe to his companions as they catch a glimpse of the silently flickering light. The bard listens carefully, trying to determine whether something else might be standing by the light source at the tunnel's end.
Alton rubs his hands together as he eyes the treasure. 'This place just got a whole lot better!' He starts a search of the rest of the room, to see if he can find anything else of value.
Nicholai smiles. Then leans his head to the side thoughtfully. Then nods in agreement as he reaches for a piece of jewelry to examine.
"When your right, your right sir!" He says, looking with interest at the clunky jewelry. His eyes travel to Laithe and Keildrithe at the other door.
"Anything interesting?" He asks softly.
"Can you test these for magical power, Kajetan?"
Keildrithe joins Laithe at the entrance to the passageway, but can hear no more than his druid friend can.
A search of the room by Alton reveals seven bracelets (or anklets or armbands), two necklaces and three earrings amongst the furs and scraps on the stone slabs.
In the western alcove, amongst the rotten furs, decayed clothing, rusted tools, utilitarian looking pottery, and unrecognisable lumps of stuff that might be petrified food, Alton finds a few items that look valuable; a silver comb and matching silver mirror, a palm box made of mother of pearl, and a large and heavy looking silver bowl carved with images of animals.
"Anything interesting?" He asks softly.
"Just this flickering light" Laithe says quietly in response to Nicolai's question. "Funny - it looks like firelight, yet there is not the accompanying sound you would expect. More magic I would expect."
Once Alton and Nicolai have completed their search, Laithe ventures softly down the tunnel, making his way to the bend and peering around.
Nicholai purses his lips. "Well. Once you've created an ancient warrior, what's a little firelight?" He murmurs, raising his crossbow back into position and following the others down the hall. Slowly.
"Can you test these for magical power, Kajetan?"
In answer Kajetan shakes his head, "t'morrow maybe." he moves round the room, slowly looking it over. "I know... knew scholars back home who would climb over each other to be in here now."
He continues looking over the room as the others move over to the exit.
Nicholai glances at Kajetan and the sparklies.
"I can do it. Do you want to attempt it now, or wait until we've explored a bit more? I don't really want to let my guard down in here." He whispers.
Peering around the bend, Laithe sees a chamber of cold stone, lit by the silent flickering glare from a pair of torches in rusted iron sconces afixed to two carved columns that support the tall, arched ceiling.
Before the columns lies an empty stone slab, whilst between them is a stone throne, similar to the one in the chamber above. Sitting on the throne is a figure attired much like the illusionary warlord, but where the illusion depicted a creature muscled and powerful, this thing sitting on the throne is old, withered and decayed. It leans heavily on its great, black-bladed sword (the only thing that appears much as it did in the illusion), head bowed. The furs and leathers it wears are frayed and rotted by age, the helm and breastplate functional but pitted and stained, the breastplate with a round puncture at the heart. Where the warlord’s flesh can be seen it is not muscled and bronzed, but withered, pale skin pulled taught across jutting bones.
The warlord sits unmoving, head and shoulders bowed, leaning against the naked sword as if weary. But the warrior’s consort stands alert, one withered claw resting on her master’s shoulder, the blazing red eyes in her death-mask of a face staring at the corridor where the druid lurks. This ancient princess, her funerary shroud once grand but now moth-eaten and tattered, exposing her dead skin and withered breasts, an expression of hate on her pale face, opens her mouth, exposing withered gums and sharpened, rotting teeth, and cries out, a chilling shriek that echoes through the stone walled barrow, causing even the bravest to question their resolve.
The cry is answered by another shriek that sounds from somewhere behind the party…
,... The cry is answered by another shriek that sounds from somewhere behind the party…
"Oh. OH that is SO not good." Nicholai mutters,...
Keildrithe grits his teeth and winces as the undead thing, his eyes growing wide in terror and face turning pale as another shriek is heard from behind. Javelin held firmly in both hands, he seems uncertain which way to face. "The old gods help us," murmurs the bard...
Alton freezes in his search of the room, his grin from finding loot quickly replaced by a grim expression. He pulls his dagger and rapier from their sheaths.
As well as resolving initiative, please let me know where you’re standing – you can begin in the irregular shaped room near the top left of the page (the chamber that Alton is currently searching for treasure), or the corridor connecting it to the chamber at the bottom (the corridor that Laithe stands in, peering into that room).
The ancient warrior sits on his throne at C17, his consort stands behind him at B17. The chamber they are in is well illuminated by the two torches on the columns – these torches also cast shadowy illumination into the first 15 feet of the two corridors leading from the chamber – beyond this it is dark, apart from light sources that you carry (two light effected coins, one held by Nicolai and one by Laithe). If by any chance you should move into the circular chamber, it is still filled with mist, giving you concealment (unless you are standing in the same square as a light source, in which case you will not benefit from concealment).
Also, remember that while you have all heard the cries, only Laithe (and anyone else standing very close to him) has seen what is in the southern chamber at this stage.
"What in the name of the gods was that?" Kajatan asks as his hairs stand up on the back of his neck.
Initative
Laithe cannot supress a cold shiver as he lays his eyes on the withered beings, and hears the cold scream of the warrior princess. He considers backtracking down the corridor to the others, but when he hears an answering scream from behind them, that thought flies from his mind.
Instead, he says a quick prayer to Ehlonna, seeking her protection in the coming battle "Lady, grant me the grace of the jungle cat so that I may avoid the blows of these abominations". Taking a few tufts of cat hair from his pouch, he completes the spell and springs forward into the room, moving to a position of cover behind the stone slab.
"To me!" he yells over back down the corridor, hoping the others are able to heed his call.
The elven warrior hears the cold call and then waits to hear what it preludes. Then comes the cry of Laithe and Pharris moves up to him as fast as she can.
"I'm coming!"
The ancient warlord raises his head. The glint of torchlight reflecting off red eyes can be seen in the shadowed recesses of his helm as he looks across the stone funeral slab at Laithe.
“Izt gegun varkdez plack. Uckun Tamiach un,” he whispers, in a voice like dead leaves, then, suddenly he stands and shouts, “”
He hefts his night-bladed greatsword in both hands and holds it before him, ready.
His consort, meanwhile, walks slowly behind the throne and around the southern column, running clawed fingers through her long, straggly grey hair, stalking slowly about the room.
"Beware the lady, as well as the warrior!" He hisses as the elf and the gnome charge up the hall past him.
"I'm sorry sir! I don't speak ancient gibberish. Perhaps you know of a more recent tongue we can converse in?" He asks as he tries to get a clear shot past his friends.
"Didn't think so, just a thought, really." He mutters.