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Rolund lifts his sword overhead to shed more light down the tunnel. “Looks like we’re walking.”
“Master Frogshanks, you’re eyes are the best among us. Possibly even more so with the crystals. Can you see if there are any dangers ahead of us?”
“And Bor, I hear your sense of smell is quite keen. Can you smell if they went down the tunnel?”
Runzyl spends a few minutes suiting up in the newfound armor. He stretches and hops up and down a few times to get a feel for his mobility in it. Seemingly satisfied, he gathers up his things and dons the protective amulet as well, his skin tightening almost imperceptibly.
"I'll take the lead. Hug the walls, in case the train comes rolling back." Hefting his bow, Janosz cautiously advances down the corridor.
Gil will follow suit, farther back from Janosz, but on the other side of the tunnel. You realize "she" has altered her appearance and looks just like him now, except for the lack of a bow.
Perception
Follow behind Janosz.
Gil will follow suit, farther back from Janosz, but on the other side of the tunnel. You realize "she" has altered her appearance and looks just like him now, except for the lack of a bow.
OK, that's not confusing.
The adventurers begin moving cautiously down the tunnel. In the dim, flickering light it is difficult to see to see far ahead. Sections of the march are through pools of darkness in which only Janosz and Runzyl can see clearly. The brick-lined passage also turns, cutting off the view ahead beyond a few tens of feet.
Janosz suddenly stops and then waves the other party members towards the wall behind a corner. "Quiet! Someone's coming," he hisses. "Someone big and shambling. Let's prepare a quick ambush."
Being among the more stealthy members of the party, Runzyl sets himself up near Janosz, crouching in the gloom to lie in wait.
“If it hasn’t seen the light from my blade, then it must be blind,” Rolund comments. “Sounds like the Caretaker.”
“Basher, in my pack, there’s a sack that I want you to take out carefully,” instructs Rolund. “When the Caretaker appears, throw it at it.”
Lightbringer realizes he probably has little chance of hiding. He stays where he is, sword at the ready, making himself (probably along with Bor and Basher if nobody else), the bait in the trap while some of the others prepare an ambush. Given time, he quaffs his potion of shield of faith and casts bull’s strength on himself. He also begins detecting evil down the tunnel ahead.
Janosz mutters a quick benediction before disappearing into a pool of shadows.
I'm kinda out of buffs.
I have 2 scrolls of bulls' strength if anybody wants to be amped up a little bit.
UGH!!!....in the middle of some really tedious b@%+@%!% right now,....bear with me, I'll be around soon.
Without a word other than arcane whispering, Ezreal conjures another barrier of briefly crackling force and then with a few more word fragments into six identical versions of himself. The crowd of wizards nod in unison. "Let's go."
On the wrong side of the tunnel from the rest of the party to do much and not wanting to waste more resources than absolutely necessary, Gil casts Invisibility on herself and readies an action to cast Haste on the others if the approaching creature attacks.
Without a word other than arcane whispering, Ezreal conjures another barrier of briefly crackling force and then with a few more word fragments into six identical versions of himself. The crowd of wizards nod in unison. "Let's go."
"I've got a bad feeling about this."
Keep your feelings to yourself, Purified. There not going to serve you in the coming fight.
The sound of a heavy, metallic tread is now reverberating in the tunnel. Whatever it is has an odd gait - one foot slamming down hard on the floor, the other dragging behind as it nevertheless approaches rapidly. The indistinct shadow of something large obscures the tunnel lights as it approaches the final turn in the tunnel.
Half-stomping, half-limping into view, comes a bizarrely-deformed warforged. In its sheer size it is unusual - as tall as an ogre, but hunched over with a pronounced hump on its back almost as high as its head, which sits slightly off-centre on its shoulders. The right side of its body is relatively normal, comprising the typical heavy plating of a heavy infantry warforged. Attached as an integral item at the end of its right arm is a wickedly-bladed sword over six feet long. On its left side, however, its armour bulges apart, as if pressure from within has caused it to burst open. In the gaps between the plates press twisted gnarls of woody sub-structure and crazily-curling metal fibres, as if the creature has been afflicted with multiple tumours that have erupted outwards. Its limbs on this side are elephantine, massive but unwieldy. The arm is little more than a fingerless club and its leg drags behind as it as it shuffles forwards.
The creature catches sight of the adventurers in the tunnel and pauses to boom in a gravelly voice. "Halt, intruders! Security alert! Passes must be shown at all times!" It then lurches forward in a shambling charge.
Initiative
Gil will cast her Haste spell when the thing charges. I'm not positive that everyone is within a 30' of each other, but her focus will be to catch the warriors in the effect.
“Basher, in my pack, there’s a sack that I want you to take out carefully,” instructs Rolund. “When the Caretaker appears, throw it at it.”
Init:
“Bash!” Repeating his favorite tagline, Basher rages forward and hurls the bomb.
I'll take d19.
"The Cuervo Gold,...."
I'll take d19.
"The Cuervo Gold,...."
Ezreal hesitates to study the lurching deformity.
"How did the others get by?"
Basher shoulders through those leading the column and hurls Rolund's carefully-manufactured bomb. His throw is somewhat wild...
With a flash of fire and a strong acrid smell, the tunnel briefly fills with smoke. As it clears, both Basher and the Caretaker are standing in the tunnel, apparently unharmed.