Balodek's Ironfang Invasion

Game Master Balodek

Round: 1, Initiative: 18

Faolan charges the nearest skeleton, shield raised high. ”Skeletons! How hard can they be?” he says as he remembers the bloody skeletons that wouldn’t stay dead…
Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14 vs DC 12 or take damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1 and become fatigued

He closes with the skeleton after shaking something off, and attacks!
Shield Bash (cold iron): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9 damage: 1d6 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9

Alas, his luck in combat continues, and he misses wildly.

MA: get wand
SA: use wand

”Indeed. The last time we faced such undead, they posed little threat.”

Krowe grabs his wand and blasts a skeleton.

Magic Missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2

The skeleton hit by the missile ignores the damage as all three move forward and strike at Faolan.

Skeleton1@Faolan: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 161d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
Skeleton2@Faolan: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 111d6 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Skeleton3@Faolan: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 81d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

They seem unused to the action and struggle to hit the shieldman.

Bazsil and Bor Turn 1, Faolan and Krowe Turn 2.

Round 6, Init 19

Free: Religion check on skellies.
Move: Move up to first Faolan's skelly horde.
Stnd: Swing at skellie, wearily.

Know (Religion), skeletons: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 Fort vs. DC12
1d6 ⇒ 5 nonlethal and fatigued

"*cough* *cough* Something ain't right here," Bazsil coughs weakly, sensing something wrong.

Bazsil attacks with his sword.

1d20 + 7 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (8) + 7 + 2 - 1 = 16 to hit; (+flank,-fatigued)
1d10 + 6 - 1 ⇒ (10) + 6 - 1 = 15 slashing damage.

Krowe furrows his brow at the skeletons, wondering if they are different then the undead they have faced before.

Did the Magic Missile have no effect, or just no reaction from unfeeling undead?

Did damage, just no visible pain shown. I'll make sure that's clearer in the future.

Round: 2, Initiative: 18

”Bazsil, you OK? You look a little peaked.”

Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (5) + 5 = 10 vs DC 12 or take damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4 and become fatigued

Suddenly Faolan too feels a little woozy. ”Hey, wait a minute!” He tries to fight through the weakness in his limbs.
Shield Bash (cold iron): 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 1 = 12 (fatigue, flank) damage: 1d6 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (2) + 7 - 1 = 8 (fatigue)
Shield Bash (cold iron): 1d20 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 4 + 1 = 15 (fatigue, flank) damage: 1d6 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (2) + 7 - 1 = 8 (fatigue)

Alas, his running feud with the dicebot continues and he struggles to fight.

Fort Save DC 12: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

He steps into the room, feeling the unholy energy all around. Bor's medallion flares with the undead nearby and positive energy flows out from underneath the scarf, covering his mangled jaw.

The energy burns away at the skeletal frames.

CPE: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 4) = 6
DC 10 Will for half.

MA: none
SA: use wand

Any knowledge check available to determine the nature of the effect causing damage to those in the room?

Seeing his wand is effective, Krowe uses it again.

Magic Missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Will DC 10: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Will DC 10: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17
Will DC 10: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

Two of the skeletons are destroyed completely by your efforts, leaving only one to cut at Faolan.

Skeleton3@Faolan: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 201d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Krowe I think both Engineering and/or Nature would allow you to identify the hazard. DC 15.

Turn Tracker Round 2
Faolan
Krowe
Skeletons
Bazsil
Bor

Bazsil and Bor Round 2, Faolan and Krowe Round 3.

There is a hazard in this room that will become apparent when any of you enter it, so I'll post the details below.

Bor reaches back and smashes his fist into the lone skeleton's skull.

CI Cestus: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

And he breaks a finger on the dense bone. Snapping his hand back he shakes it as the finger begins to swell and turn purple. "OWWW!"

Knowledge Engineering: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25

Noticing the reaction from the mercs and detecting a faint scent upon the air Krowe recognizes the danger.

”That chamber is unsafe. If you breathe the gases in there for too long it could cause you to pass out, and eventually suffocate. Retreat if you feel faint.”

Holding action for now. I think the mercs can handle one last skeleton.

Round 2, Init 19

Free: Cough and regret breathing.
Move: Move away after swinging, out of room.
Stnd: Swing at skellie, wearily.

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17 Fort vs. DC12
1d6 ⇒ 5 nonlethal and fatigued

Bazsil attacks with his sword...

1d20 + 7 + 2 - 1 ⇒ (16) + 7 + 2 - 1 = 24 to hit; (+flank,-fatigued)
1d10 + 6 - 1 ⇒ (1) + 6 - 1 = 6 slashing damage.

...then exits the room, provoking (maybe).

Round: 2, Initiative: 18

Fort: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6 vs DC 12 or take damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4 and become fatigued

I'm already fatigued, do I become exhausted? If so, -2 attack and damage...

Faolan does his best to fight back the fatigue as he struggles to kill the last skeleton. He swats at it once with Bazail and also falls back to breath (move after the attack).
Shield Bash (cold iron): 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 6 + 1 = 17 (fatigue, flank) damage: 1d6 + 7 - 1 ⇒ (5) + 7 - 1 = 11 (fatigue)

Krowe waits to see how the mercs fare.

If the skeleton is still up, I’ll use the Magic Missile wand.

Magic Missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

Skeleton was dropped by Bazsil and Faolan (mostly Faolan), so your wand charge remains unexpended.

As the last skeleton drops you quickly move out of the room, breathing the clean air of the entrance room.

The description of the effects from the gas indicate it does not cause worse than fatigue, so you would not be exhausted if you failed a second check.

Bazsil leans over, hacking trying to clear the bad air from his lungs and hoping 'clean' air will restore his energy. Sadly, it does not and he mopes for a moment, then steels himself for his ass dragging all day.

"And I thought the lizardjerks smelt bad," Bazsil rumbles, catching his breath. "Man, that room was a s@*#hole. Are we done here? Do we want to call this place 'clean' as a possible fallback? Or do more...because I could use a nap."

”I hate to leave this unexplored. I think if you hold your breath you may be ok for a short time.” Krowe says, looking into the chamber with curiosity. With a gesture he casts a spell to detect magic.

Bor unfurls his scarf and hands it to Baszil, leaving his mangled jaw exposed to the world. At least his brand wasn't seeping, meaning 'they' weren't nearby.

"Cover you face. This should help a bit. But I will need it back when we leave here."

Bot looks over the chamber. "This place must have been sealed off for some time."

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Bor does not see anything unusual in the room looking through the door. Dust and lichen buildup around the secret door does suggest that it has been sealed for centuries at least.

Krowe detects a faint aura of magic in the room beyond, in what appears to be a pile of rust and rotted leather. Most likely once a stand for weapons or armor, long since decayed.

What happened to his face? Bazsil takes a good long look at the unexpected deformity(?). He then quickly puts his eyes to the floor, taking the offered scarf, and totally not staring at anything.

Nothing unusual here. Bazsil stares again at Bor while trying not to stare.

"Uh thanks," Bazsil comments while his eyes dart around for something to look at that isn't the mangled face in front of him. "Uh, great. As long as you don't need it, right?" Bazsil offers a weak smile as he pulls out his canteen to dampen the cloth before putting it over his mouth.

Maybe this will help. Or maybe I should offer it back? Man... Bazsil totally doesn't stare at all.

”Damn shame to cover up such a handsome bone box.”

Krowe can’t help but see Bor’s disfigurement. He’d caught a glimpse of it before, but not an open display. His mind forms questions, but he stores them away and focuses on the task at hand. Noticing Bazsil’s reaction he clears his throat and points across the chamber.

”I sense a magical aura over there in that pile of rusty metal.”

Bor doesn't even notice them staring as he digs through the rotting and dust covered armor. "Which one?" His eyes shift as a layer of the veil is raised.

Detect magic.

The aura shows itself to him as he grabs the object out.

Faolan breathes heavily in the good air, working to get the bad air out of his lungs. When Bor uncovers his face, Faolan realizes for the first time that he's never seen his face.

When he does, he gives it a frank look, then looks Bor in the eye and says, "I bet the other guy fared worse in the end." and nods in his direction.

When auras are spoken of, he takes a deep breath, walks into he room, and starts poking about until someone points out what to grab. He'll pick up the magic and return it to Bor for identification.

Are we still fatigued or does that fade?

I assume you're talking in the entry room and then holding your breath and moving into the other room to loot? That would prevent new applications of damage/fatigue as the gas is inhaled. How long do you wait to see if the effects wear off?

The magic aura proves to be a shield. Made of steel and fairly light, there are a few rusty spots but they look like they'll buff out.

+1 light steel shield

Faolan would wait just a few minutes, and assume the worst if it hasn't worn off by then - namely that he's stuck fatigued until he sleeps/rests sufficiently.

He brings back the shield, "I won't do as much damage with this as mine, and won't protect me any better, so I'm not inclined to use it. Will it will bring protection to anyone else."

"Could I, uh, get some of that healing Bazsil? Just a pair should do it."

CLW: 2d8 + 2 ⇒ (1, 7) + 2 = 10

I'll take two cures if I may be so bold. If you want to save them a bit, one is fine.

I'll take two cures if I may be so bold. If you want to save them a bit, one is fine.

Bazsil would prefer to hand cast a CLW...

1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6 CLW

Bazsil pats Faolan on the back. "Is that enough you feeling okay?" We'll burn a scroll if you need it.

"Which way now? Back home? Or is there more?" Bazsil asks, lost and confused about what hasn't been explored.

”There seems to be one way left down here. The ornate door. I have a little left in me if we decide to investigate it. Or we could find a spot to hold up and rest. Ether way, I think we should clear this place out entirely. It is large enough for the refugees, hidden, and well protected.”

"Let's check out the door. Tomorrow we can bring the villagers here and start cleaning it out." Bor suggests as he waves the shield away for someone else to use.

He looks to Bazsil, pointing to the bladed scarf. "Did it help?"

Remember the spell heals nonlethal and lethal in an equal amount.

You make your way back to the ornate door after spending a few minutes trying to clear your lungs.

The door to the east is otherworldly in the largely stone chamber, being made of polished, blue steel. It is decorated with a ring of pictograms, and at the center is a depiction of an unusual head with bulging eyes and wisps of hair radiating in every direction. The head—which looks at once like an insect and an old woman—spins freely, and the wheel of pictograms depicts a beetle, a rock, a wedge, a hammer, a crying face, a flame, a claw, a door, a metal bar, a figure standing in triumph, and a bottle.

Hand cast is great.

”Thanks Bazsil, that’ll do for now.” he grins.

He peers at the door, ”What is this, a game of spin the bottle?” He looks around the chamber for clues to what the symbols may mean.
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11

”A steel door is going to be hard to break down, and I’m not sue we’ve the gear to do it.” he shrugs, And me without my crowbar!

Krowe ponders a moment. ”I think this is a combination lock, and I think I know the sequence. Back in the mosaic room there were symbols on the wall that I believe referred to this door.” Krowe informs the mercs. ”A section read: grandmother, in seeking the Excavator, turned her eyes to the Stone, and to the Steel, and finally to Woe.”

”I think the door opens into a holy place for something the builders called “the Excavator” which could be one of the mythic xiomorns, an ancient race of crystal workers.”

Unless someone disagrees Krowe will try turning the wheel to stone, metal bar, then crying face.

Bazsil stands to the back with his bow and watches Oberon work.

"Yeah, let's see if you can get it open. I'll be impressed if you can."

Bor stands back with Bazsil. Oberon seemed to know what he was doing and was by far smarter than he was on these matters. "That sounds wortha try. If you could understand these creatures."

Krowe steps up to the door with confidence and spins the face to 3 different symbols. With nary a sound the door opens on silent hinges.
A three stepped riser fills most of the room, atop which lies a stone sarcophagus depicting a vaguely insectoid creature similar to the ones depicted in statuary throughout this complex. Moving carefully up the steps you see the coffin lid has been removed and the inhabitant exposed. It appears to be a four-armed insectoid creature made of crystal. The creature appears to have been dead for centuries.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14

Krowe looks around and frowns. ”Huh. I expected more.”

Just to be certain, he casts a spell to detect magic.

GM: is the crystalline corpse somehow valuable?

Bazsil looks in, equally disappointed.

"Maybe this is a treasure room for your gem-eating friend, Bor," Bazsil suggests, remember the gems that were eaten. "This might be *the* king feast for those kinds of elementals."

Bazsil takes a quick (and tired) look around, and then is ready to go.

GM Balodek, is there any places we haven't explored?

There is a faint magical aura to the room but Krowe determines it is a long faded preservation spell, no doubt once used to keep the contents of this tomb from decaying.

The corpse does not appear valuable and in fact looks like it would crumble to the touch.

There are still 3 tunnels in the caves above you have not explored.

"Well done Krowe. You've a big brain in you and that's a fact!" Faolan is happy to be past the door.

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (19) + 8 = 27

But he agrees with his companions about whats on the far side. "Well then. I guess we weren't first." he shrugs.

"Shall we check the last few tunnels?" He's ready to head back above, though there's a wheezing to his breathing he doesn't like.

Bazsil agrees and follows Faolan to explore the last of the tunnels. He still has his bow in hand, feeling too weak for the sword.

Bor is indeed as disappointed as the rest. "All that for a corpse. Seems strange. Though not surprising the way these Troglodytes revered it."

Grabbing his shield he follows Faolan. "Should we lock it back up?" He points his thumb to the cryptic door. "This would make a good storage vault in case anyone else decides to try and betray the group. Or a prison."

You make your way back to the main room in the caverns above. There are 5 tunnels leading out of this room. One you know leads to the cave entrance and another to the lower depths. The other 3 are south, northwest and northeast. To the south you see what appears to be a larger room and to the northeast a storage area. You don't see much more than the tunnel to the northwest.

Either the air up here is not so foul as it was or you've spent enough time out of the forge for your lungs to recover.

All nonlethal damage and the fatigued condition are removed at this time.

Faolan feels much improved now that his lungs have cleared. "I dunno that we want to camp here, the stench might be hard to get out. Still, it is quite the complex..."

He looks toward the south to start. "Shall we?" he gestures, and heads south if the others agree.

Bazsil breathes deep of the cleaner air, his lungs working the bad air out. "Ah yeah, much better. That was awful down there," Bazsil rejoices his returning strength though his throat is still dry and sore.

"Shall we?"

Bazsil nods. "After you, nothing like some fresher air." He follows Faolan to the south.

"South it is." His few exposed teeth click as there is little to block them on the right side where he was wounded. Bor gives the scarf a small tug. "You all done with this?" He asks Baszil.

You head to the south and Faolan finds that even in death the troglodytes have one final injury to inflict as a spear thrusts out of the floor and towards his tenders.

Trap@Faolan: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (7) + 15 = 221d8 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

Sadly his crotch, well armored as it no doubt is, proves little impediment to the implement as it skewers him mightily. When it does, the rest of you hear a gong reverberate through the tunnel.

Moving on to the room beyond, the tunnel descends into an irregularly shaped chamber with many alcoves and nooks along the uneven walls. Directly opposite the tunnel mouth, a carving on the wall shows a creature hatching from an enormous egg. A low fire flickers in a wide, shallow pit about halfway between the tunnel and the carving. Large stones are piled around the edge of the firepit, their sides blackened. More stones sit within the nooks around the perimeter of the cavern, near piles of dried grasses and animal pelts.

The entire room stinks of troglodyte and sulfur, with rotten food and fungus ringing the outer wall. Now that he sees so much of it in one place, Bor is able to identify it as the source of the stench in this cavern system. If all of the fungus were to be removed the air would clear.

Bor leaps as the gong sounds and Faolan gets a vasectomy. "You alright?" He cringes as blood steadily drips down the man's leg.

Swap Shield of Faith for CLW

CLW: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

Bor's hand glows as he closes the wound, reverting it as if it never happened, or rather happened in a different pocket dimension.

With Faolan's injury taken care of Bor looks over the chamber. "Scrub out the mold in here and this place would be livable." He begins to toss the items into the bag for later, scraping at the mold.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

"What do you think this hatching egg means?" Bor had seen something like it before, though it of this realm. Rather it was beyond the veil. Something his mortal eyes were not supposed to see and definitely evil. It is what haunts him now. Follows him. Searches for him.

Surely this is not that though.

"Oh man, are you okay, Faolan?" Baz lurches forward to help Faolan off the spear. "That looked painful." Bazsil waits to see how Faolan reacts to Bor's healing before relaxing, his own legs pressed tightly together.

Only then will Bazsil help search the room, gathering things to be brought back to the camps. Every blade and every bow might be useful against the hobgobs, and Bazsil was grateful for every leather strap on every piece of armor that was still intact.

"What do you think this hatching egg means?"

When Bor calls attention to the carving, Bazsil comes to stand and give it a good stare. He probably doesn't know anything, but he might.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 Know (Arcana/Planes/Religion)
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16 Know (Nature)

Bazsil will otherwise help pack up all the loot and be ready to follow Faolan to the next ball spearing.

Faolan yelps in pain as he's hit by the spear, and is very pleased to have the hole in his thigh healed over moments later by Bor.

He looks at all the mold and chuckles, "Livable huh? Don't like caves much, but I suppose so. We should clear the fungus out before we leave so the cave airs a day or two before we return with the crowd."

Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19

He aids in the search and piles the gear up to be taken with. When they've checked the chamber he'll patiently wait for Bazsil's investigations before heading northeast when everyone is ready.

Trying to forget about the spear to Faolan’s tea bag, Krowe focuses on something else and detects for magic in the area.