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When Varg sees the three humans, he has seen humans before, after all he was a slave for a cruel human for many years, he considers simply pummeling them into no more than a stain on the ground. However, Komm's directive to avoid unnecessary contact comes unbidden into his head as he is contemplating his next move. Thus, Varg, rather than eliminating the three humans, instead simply stands in the trees, huge and invisible, watching as the unaware humans continue to proceed down the path.
I hope that the others do not attack. If they do, then I shall support them, but these do not appear to be threats, or ones with sufficient wealth to be worth attacking.
As he watches, he carefully examines each human to determine whether it is all it appears to be, or something else hidden behind an illusion of being a human.
Sense Motive: <-- yep, the stellar rolls continue
When he catches sight of the humans, Chugs creeps into the undergrowth to observe them more carefully.
Vargrenz eyes the three humans as they travel along the trail and while he is not all that familiar with humans, these humans look to be unskilled and not seasoned in warfare. Even a disguised foe has difficulty hiding the ready stance of a warrior.
Brok listens closely to the conversation and hears the following snatches:
"...keep moving while there is daylight still..."
"...long ways away..."
"camp. I just hope they welcome us..."
Soon the humans move past you and continue on their way, as yet unaware of your presence.
Intent on making sure the group was not spotted, Keil follows the trio as they continue past. And what better way than to listen in on their conversation. Taking great pains to be extra cautious, Keil follows discretely behind them for another 5 minutes before returning to regroup with the others.
As the others return Arlok lays down his weapons assuming a battle will not happen.
"So mans pass us by. Alrok not get to crush skulls. This makes Arlok sad, but Komm did say stay hidden. Time for Arlok to rest."
"False alarm then ...." Brok says, easing the tension on his crossbow.
"Like the big man said, time to get some rest .... who's next on watch?"
Brok lays out his blanket over a pallet of leaves and curls up into a little goblin sized ball.
Keil follows along behind the trio and discreetly eavesdrops on their conversation. While he does not get too close to get their entire story, he does learn these people are from Zelkor's Ferry and that they have elected to flee that place for some reason.
Keil's yellow eyes narrow, They flee? Intriguing.
The fetchling follows for another minute, however his cautious approach means their words have grown further away. Rather than risk closing the gap, and putting more distance between himself and the group, the shadowy man decides to give it up.
Returning to the campsite, Keil begins his watch with Varg. The fetchling is pensive. Carefully considering what he has learned from the passing group of humans his thoughts come to reflect upon what he knows of Zelkor's Ferry and Komm's war with this 'Goat Prince'.
Seeking to add the other's opinions, Keil will pose this question to all..."What do you know of this Goat Prince?"
"Malzii and Raaz."
"Brok and Arlok.
"Vargrenz and Keil."
"Chuggs and Grey."
After allowing the humans to keep going on their way, you all return to your camp to finish resting up. As the others settle back in to their sleeping rolls, Malzii recalls what she knows of the Goat Prince, aka Orcus. Orcus is a demon prince with — surprisingly though — many human worshipers. He has a strange fascination with humans and their desire for power, possibly because it is this very flaw that causes them so frequently to seek that which he controls: power over death. Orcus is the lord of all undead and he resides in the Abyss in his Palace of Bones surrounded by a legion of vampires and liches. Evil, ruination and wanton destruction are his only goals. He is most often depicted as a bloated ram-headed, bat-winged monstrosity with cloven-hoofed goat legs. Though mostly worshiped by the monstrous races, the ranks of Orcus’ human worshipers are swelling, as Orcus grants his followers power in large, liberal doses. His symbol is a demonic ram-headed skull. His priests favor heavy, dark hooded robes and ornamental maces stylized to represent his skull-tipped wand.
As the rest you contemplate what else you know of the Goat Prince, dusk soon arrives and with it the dropping of the tempurature. You all feel the effects of the freezing cold, save Keil and realize this could prove fatal should you stop moving. Thankfully, you realize the hill where the Mouth of Doom is rumored to be is but a couple of hours hike from your campsite.
As Malzii shares her knowledge of the Goat Prince and describes the worshippers of Orcus, Raaz Al'Zuul recalls the lessons he has received on the subject:
"Interesting. Why then were those humans so eager to escape Zelkor's Ferry? Something more is going on there." Keil skips putting away his tattered old blanket this evening. Keeping it wrapped around his shoulders like a shawl, the fetchling notes the other's are not fairing as well. "We can dispense with this for now. The Mouth is near and with it shelter from this cold." Keeping with the established routine, Keil keeps pace with Brok as the group makes its way towards the Mouth of Doom.
Brok does his best to provide insulation with some pine branches.
Doing his best to show the others the way to stay warm.
"Try to stay warm but insulating yourselves with these leaves and branches." Brok says to the others as they all shiver in the cold.
While the crudity of the goblin's methods cannot be denied, neither can the effectiveness of them. As you use the leaves and branches where the goblin ranger instructs you you find the cold far easier to bear.
"Arlok cold. Need to get to cave and make fire."
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Brok sees Chugs trying to follow his instructions.
He hurries over when the overweight goblin pulls up a nasty looking red vine.
"Don't stick that down your britches!" he yelps. "You'll be itching and scratching for days if you do!"
"I'm sure it'll be fine ...." Brok says weakly to the gray dwarf.
aside to himself he says "Why can't we just find some nice caves .... the temperature doesn't change, the sun doesn't hurt everyopne's eyes, there's no dogs ...."
to the group he says: "We really need to push forward to the Mouth of Doom."
As dusk falls Raaz Al'Zuul wakes and makes his regular preparations for the night. This time as the Mouth of Doom is in reach he makes a special prayer to Lord Baalzebul to provide guidance and luck to the team.
"Looks like we'll be reaching the Mouth of Doom tonight. I am ready to go."
Hour 1:
Hour 2:
fail
.
You press on despite the chill in the air knowing the setting of the sun is your enemy here. As the sun sets in the sky the hill where the Mouth of Doom is located comes into view. It actually is located on the north side of the hill opposite your direction of travel, but once you circle around the side of the hill you have no trouble finding it. Making your way up the side shows the carved stone face of the Goat Prince and a cursory examination shows a black stone staircase set inside the gaping maw leading down into darkness.
You do not see any signs of traps around the staircase nor any signs of other recent travelers. As you look around for any other signs of inhabitation, you do see what looks like an abandoned cottage off in the distance, perhaps a mile from your position.
Chugs unfortunately had the worst of the journey as despite his fellow goblin's instructions he cannot avoid feeling the chills all the way to his bones.
Brok looks down at the cave opening and thinks to himself: "I'll be damned ... I almost didn't think we would find it. I guess even a blind worm finds a dung heap occasionally."
Brok looks at Keil and says:
"Us two go ahead and scout out the entrance to see if it's clear? Not much chance of avoiding any trouble if we drag everyone along."
"Maybe we stash the group in that run down hut while we take a lookey-see?"
Keil shakes his head no and points down the black staircase, "They are no good to us cold. They can warm themselves here." The fetchling scans the area and turns to Raaz, "We are unhindered. I suggest checking the cottage while the others regain their strength." Keil removes his blanket and tosses it unceremoniously to Chugs.
The fetchling nods to Brok and the others, "I'll return with what I find," then takes his leave. Avoiding the direct approach, the shadowy man slips into the inky darkness.
Brok loads a bolt into his crossbow and follows along behind the fetchling.
Grey seemed content to go along with the needs of the others.
He murmured an incantation and directed it toward Keil. "Whisper and I will hear you. Tell me if you require aid. We will come."
As Keil and Brok head into the Mouth of Doom, Raaz Al'Zuul looks at Varg and says:
"I am not a fan of splitting up the group. The cottage is about a mile away and should the scouts need our help, it will be minutes before we can get back. Seconds is all it takes for the team to be overcome. Let's wait for them to come back then we go and search the cottage."
As much as the fetchling hates to admit it, the Tiefling is right - splitting up is a bad idea. But then this is about not leaving any stone un-turned. Dragging the others through this cold weather toward something that may turn out to be nothing will only hasten them down a path ending in fatigue.
Leaving the group behind, Keil turns to Brok. Speaking just loud enough for the goblin to hear, as well as Grey, Keil's raspy voice warns, "This is just a sneak and peek boys. Any sign of trouble, cottage or elsewhere, we turn back to the Mouth. Got that witch?"
Keil, followed closely by Brok, hike to the cabin. After only about 15 minutes of walking you see this is a stone cottage that has been abandoned and fallen into disrepair. The thatched roof is gone, and grass grows from the dirt floor of the building. While the place is empty, you do see signs of previous encampments though none recently. .
The rest of you camp out here while waiting for the scouts to return while staying just outside the Mouth of Doom. Once the scouts have returned they see a huge, stone demon face (the visage is that of the Goat-Prince) carved into the side of the hill. Its open mouth is ten feet tall; within the gaping stone maw, stairs of black stone lead downward into the darkness curving out of your view. No one sees any signs of danger here though there are signs of previous explorers here. A burned out torch stub here, a half eaten set of rations tossed aside there.
Keil whispers into a ripped sleeve cuff, "Nothing here Grey, we're turning back."
Staring at the visage of the Goat-Prince, Keil rubs his chin then approaches cautiously. His glowing yellow eyes scan every inch looking for anything untoward about the stub torch, rations or the surface of the steps.
Kicking at the torch stub Keil's face grimaces with disgust, "Others scouted here before us." The fetchling kneels down and gingerly picks up the half eaten trail rations. A blacked tongue emerges from his mouth and licks the morsel.
Tossing the ration to the side, Keil spits then stands and approaches the gaping maw of the Goat Prince. A pointed nose sniffs at the air within then the shadowy man takes a few cautious steps down the black stone stairs, pausing when he reaches the bend in the line.
Brok shadows the fetchling into the cave mouth.
Inwardly he rejoices at being back underground.
"The scouts have found nothing at the cabin. They are returning." Grey informed the others.
Arlok move close to the fire rubbing his arms and hands extending them to the flame trying to get warm.
Ar...Arlok so cold. Arlok miss ale and warm belly of stew.
After resting up and making sure Arlok and Chugs have recovered from their bout of hypothermia, you proceed down the stairs which lead deeper into the Mouth of Doom. Black stone stairs lead down to this room from the ruined tower above in a staircase that the characters estimates has taken them about forty feet underground. The room at the bottom of the staircase has six doors leading out, each one set into the far end of a ten-foot-by-ten-foot alcove in the wall. There is a faint smell of old rot in the air, like a graveyard, but other than that the place appears empty.
"Goblin Brok, you tell what doors been open?"
Keil sniffs at the air, "The stench of death fills this place." His yellow eyes narrow in the dark.
Spying the six doors at the bottom of the stairs, the fetchling moves to the first door. Black fingers repeatedly curl and straighten as his eyes scan the floor and outline of the door within the alcove. His examination complete the glowing eyes dart to the next door. One by one, Keil scans each door looking not only for signs of passage but clues of vile devices as well.
Vargrenz scans the room looking for any recent tracks leading to a particular door but can determine little else than other adventurer groups were here and they checked out all of the doors
Raaz Al'Zuul follows the scouts down the dark stairs. As the scouts inspect the doors he stays alert to any movement from the stairs.
Caught up in his own excitement, Keil's eyes dart from one detail to the next without really paying close attention.
Brok crouches down and scans across the room for signs of a trap.
He looks appreciatively at the rock ceiling above him and thinks good to be back underground ....
As the fetchling approaches the alcove containing the door to the north within about ten feet or so, a magic mouth forms in the stone and speaks in the Abyssal tongue: “You stand at the threshold of the Rappan Athuk, the Dungeon of Graves. Turn back, trespassers, for you will find nothing but your death in these dark halls." After delivering its chilling message, the mouth disappears once again into the stone.
A quick perusal of the northern alcove shows no hidden dangers apparent.
Brok turns his gaze to the door that Keil is interested in...
The message shakes Keil back to reality, crouching back from the mouth, the fetchling bares his blackened teeth and hisses. Regaining his composure, Keil curses in Abyssal then spits at the stone where the mouth appeared. Unfortunately for Brok, the fetchling is too busy spitting and cursing to be of any real help.