DM Khel's Graves of Crystalmaw Pass (Inactive)

Game Master Khelreddin

"Yes, who, how many, and why. It's a potent spell you have there."

Mordenaar nods assent to keeping the xorns happy, and watches over Dirch during the spell Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

Looking over the Gems Ebonwolf mutters a few words under his breath, his eyes take on a slightly greenish blue shimmer as he looks over the chests contents. Cast Detect Magic.

"Ai, allow us to review thee contents of tha chest and you'll get some Gems."

As Dirch mentions speaking with the dead and the possible questions Ebonwolf grunts in abhorent agreement to the questions presented so far.

Dirch - I assume you’re casting speak with dead, and will post accordingly. In trying to figure that out, however, I noticed that you don’t have your spells known or memorized listed in your character profile. Can you add those?

The xorn, still grinning contentedly as he licks something - gem dust perhaps? - from his wide lips, steps away from the chest so the Pathfinders can study its contents. Within there is a loose collection of gems of a rainbow of colors. They are in no way magical, and Dirch estimates them to be worth about 2000 gold pieces. When the xorn sees that the assessment is done, he reaches one of his three arms in and plucks out a handful of gems, tossing them to the other two and calling out, ”Taste the rainbow!“ The other xorns scoop up the gems and pop them in their great maws, then walk off crunching happily.

The remaining xorn pops another gem in its mouth and, talking with his mouth full again, says, ”T’anks bery much! These ‘re delishus!“ He shifts the gem over to one side of his mouth, where it causes one of his three cheeks to bulge out and lets him speak more clearly, ”I like you guys! My name is Rokgranchrnrk, and I don’t think you are from here. You need someone to show you around?“

At more or less the same time, Dirch calls upon his necromantic powers - which have served him well in his forensic accounting endeavors - and causes one of the dead merchants to speak! In a monotone voice, the dead woman says, ”We were attacked by half a dozen bandits or so, who took everything they could grab quickly and left us for dead. Or left us dead, I suppose. They wanted our goods for sale, and the money we’d made in selling them. One of the bandits wore armor of glittering crystal.“

Drizz’n looks on in fascination, having never seen the dead speak before. He takes copious notes in his journal on a new page titled: Things I Heard Dead People Say.

Dirch sets down his backpack and pulls out a trumpet of spirit speaking, a cheerleader's megaphone with the Geb State Shamblers mascot printed on the side.

We bring these to every game. That way our dead alums can cheer the team! And after the game, we can ask for donations, which are tax deductible, of course."

Dirch sets the megaphone to the lips of one of dead.

Is there an obvious leader or anything to put the trumpet to?

Excuse me, ma'am... or maybe sir. No offense. I can't really tell.
You kind of remind me of my cousin Pat. She was the same way. No one knew whether to call her ma'am or sir. That always made Pat laugh.

Anyways, my name's Dirch. I'm traveling with these nice folks, and we're looking for a a person named Grave Treader. We came across your caravan. Thought maybe we could of assistance. Do you know who attacked you, and why? And have you heard or seen Grave Treader?"

"Take the guidance, and let's push on. The sooner we leave this wilderness, the better." Mordenaar quietly stands by as Dirch talks.

"Aha greet'ins Rokgranchrnrk. I am Ebonwolf Metalbender pleasure makin' ur acquaintance. My Terran name is 'Blaidd pridd'. an additonal guide is always helpful." Ebonwolf unwary of how the Xorn is sounding weighs each word he says.
Sense Motive vs. Rokgranchrnrk: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14

The dead merchant already answered who and why, and there isn't really a leader of the merchants, so I'll just add the answer about Grave Treader:

"I don't know who or what Grave Treader is," the woman continues, her emotionless voice rendered even stranger by the metal trumpet held to her lips, "but perhaps I shall find out once I am laid to rest, should I ever end up in a grave."

That last bit is just lugubrious pondering, not meant to be a plot point or a squirrel to chase.

Ebonwolf studies the xorn a moment and, though it is very difficult to interpret the facial gestures of a three-sided being from a completely alien plane of existence, concludes that Rokgranchrnrk's offer is genuine.

”And I’m Drizz’n Gloomslinger,” Drizz’n says to Rokgranchrnrk. ”Glad you liked those gems. Have you see any bandits around here or know anything about them?”

Turning to Ebonwolf he asks, ”How did you get a Terran name? Not that I’m saying I want one or anything, I’m just curious, you know, whatever. It’s not a big deal.”

lugubrious pondering should bee a phrase in everyone's lexicon.

"We still have a destination, let us make haste."

Uh. I want to make haste. But, the lady asked to be put in a grave. Can we take the time to do that for her and her companions? If we are rushed for time, I can summon help.

Dirch can cast Skeleton Crew, which is a 4th level spell, or a generic summon monster, say level 2, to have a couple of extra hands.

"Save your potent magics. We can do this with a little help from our friend."

Mordenaar turns to the xorn, assuming his words will be translated. "It is their custom to be interred in the earth whence they came. Might you help us honor the dead by digging a trough for us? We can finish the job after."

Once done, the slayer will strike out forward.

It seems that Rokgranchrnrk studies the dead merchants a moment, though it is hard to be sure when he can look in all directions at once. His expression, however, is unmistakably one of puzzlement at Mordenaar’s words. Giving the talkative dead woman a couple of experimental pokes, the xorn asks, ”Came from earth, this one? Seems too soft. But digging is easy.“

With another triple shrug, the xorn uses two of its massive three-fingered hands and quickly digs a huge gouge in the stony ground, large enough to fit the merchants and their wagons, suggesting he didn’t entirely understand which things needed to be buried. He begins tossing objects and bodies at random into the hole, aiming to be helpful. As he works, he replies to Drizz’n, ”Bandits? What are those, a kind of two-legs?? Are they creatures of earth or fire?”“ It’s fairly clear he’s not really interested in the distinction between different sorts of bipeds.

All - I’m about to board a flight, won’t be posting for the rest of the day. I’ll be traveling all of next week. I expect to have time to post, but might slow down a bit.

Not sure if you guys are waiting on me, that wasn’t the impression I was trying to give. I’ll move us along.

Once the party gets the merchants buried to their satisfaction, Rokgranchrnrk points and says, ”This way.” The route he takes does not match exactly with what the map seems to indicate, but it soon becomes clear why. After a day or so of travel, the xorn’s detour leads to a vein of rich gold ore that surfaces on a rock face. The xorn tears open a part of the rock face, causing gold nuggets to rain to the ground. Rokgranchrnrk contentedly picks them up and snacks on them, gesturing in a way that clearly says, Help yourselves, there’s plenty! The bounty of raw gold seems to more than make up for the expensive gems the three xorns ate at the wrecked wagons.

After the golden repast, the party travels with Rokgranchrnrk for a few days more, experiencing the frightful and bizarre wonders of the Crystalmaw Pass. Rivers of molten rock cut through the landscape here as if raked by giant fiery claws. Blackened weapons jut out from the ground and ashen skeletons lie scattered in hollows left by past explosions as lone crystals still glow meekly among the destruction. The Crystalmaw Pass snakes through this grim, war-torn vista but, fortunately gravity returns to normal, and the Pathfinders find they can now rest and recover from their previous hardships.

Soon however, one extreme gives way to another. As the party draws closer to the planar border, they reach a place where encroachments from the Plane of Fire are impossible to avoid entirely. The air becomes blisteringly hot, and clouds of poisonous gas vent from the bubbling rivers of molten rock.

Each PC must attempt a Reflex save to dodge the most dangerous effects, with a +2 bonus due to the xorn’s guidance. A PC under the effects of endure elements (which you could have activated as conditions deteriorated, but which you'd have to have up for a few days) also gains a +2 bonus on their saving throw. Once you’ve made your save, consult to spoiler below to see the effects.

Having run this before (though it's been a while), I'm trying not to drive the action.

REF: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 8 + 2 = 24 Mordenaar navigates the strange land with aplomb, suffering little for his time. Once everyone is ready, he nods, to Rok, ready to keep going.

Drizz’n has 5 level 1 extracts a day, so he can have Endure Elements up, and would if the conditions were bad enough.

Reflex Save: 1d20 + 8 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 8 + 2 + 2 = 25

Drizz’n is relieved as gravity returns to normal. With the help of his extracts, he manages to avoid the hazards of Crystalmaw Pass while taking in the strange sights.

”This is must be the battlefield the Master of Spells told us about. We should be on the alert for bandits.”

Ebonwolf follows along without question, taking in the sights and sounds as they move along the trail set by the Xorn. He partakes of the golden vein at Rog's gesture. He pockets a few "Sav'm fer later." not wishing to offend their guide.

As they approach the border Ebon continues to keep his endure elements active thought sadly he is unable to prepare enough for the rest of the group.

Reflex, +guide, +Endure Elements: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 5 + 2 + 2 = 13
E gads May i use my Reroll now please
Reflex, +guide, +Endure Elements, +GM Star: 1d20 + 5 + 2 + 2 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 5 + 2 + 2 + 1 = 20

Not paying to much attention to the surounds this time around Ebonwolf miss-steps and ends up with a small sun burn.
NL Fire: 2d6 ⇒ (2, 1) = 3
"Ack gots ta be watch'n me step."

Ref: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 3 + 2 = 14
Con Dmg: 1d3 ⇒ 1
Fire dmg nonlethal: 4d6 ⇒ (3, 6, 1, 6) = 16

Appraise: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18
Dirch appraises the gold. Takes a couple of nuggets. Fills out a income declaration form, files it away in his backpack.

As Dirch is jumping from rock to rock, he is startled by a blast of fire. As he falls, he gets a blast of poisonous gas in his face. He splutters.

Agh! I got in my mouth!

He quickly washes his mouth out with water, and wearily looks up the trail.

Zirt Reflex: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 7 + 2 = 14
Benedict Reflex: 1d20 + 8 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 8 + 2 = 15

Guess who has a permanent endure elements... but only versus cold. :/

Zirt Con: 1d3 ⇒ 3
NL Fire: 4d6 ⇒ (1, 4, 3, 1) = 9
Benedict Con: 1d3 ⇒ 3
NL Fire: 4d6 ⇒ (5, 5, 6, 5) = 21

Bleh!

Zirt and Benedict fare poorly in the hot temperatures... poor Benedict's heavy fur coat ends up singed in quite a few places, and Zirt is so bedraggled and worn out that she doesn't even do much talking, preferring to ride slumped over in her saddle as she wishes this assignment was complete.

Reflex, +Guide, +Endure Elements: 1d20 + 11 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 11 + 2 + 2 = 24

Rikimaru gracefully dances through the terrain, and away from hot gaseous vents, tilting his head to intently listen.

Listen for the proceeding pops, as he slides to his left just as he steps away from a burst from a hot vent.

I just hope we don't run into any rodents of unusual size, he says with a smirk.

With some of the party a bit worse for wear, they Pathfinders continue their journey. Rokgranchrnrk leads them into a series of hot, narrow tunnels, which appear to open into a large cavern ahead. Something about the shape of the cavern causes sound to bounce and flow strangely, and from the tunnel mouth they can hear a conversation echoing some way ahead. It’s hard to catch it all, but Ebonwolf is quite sure that someone is speaking Terran and catches a few snippets of the conversation. A woman’s voice curses, “These guard duties are damned boring, and this accursed heat. Why don’t they send that ifrit down here? She’d probably find this pleasant!” A man’s voice cautions, “I know, but you need to be careful about speaking like that. The boss won’t like it one bit.”

Rokgranchrnrk makes a low, grumbling noise, which the Pathfinders have come to associate with him thinking about a course of action, then says, ”This place too dangerous, my job is done. Good fortune on you.” With a peculiar three-way nod, he sinks into the earth and is gone.

A few steps further on, the tunnel opens up ahead into a broad cavern. A stone bridge spans a 30-foot-deep rift in the ground. Clusters of stalagmites sprout from the ground, some of them soaring fifty feet into the air. Luminous crystals embedded in the stalagmites fill the chamber with a soft green glow. The cavern is 200 feet high and extends for hundreds of feet horizontally. The high ceiling of this cavern allows heat from the stifling tunnels to rise—the caverns are still uncomfortably warm, but not nearly as unpleasant as the tunnels the Pathfinders have just traversed.

Four oreads stand on the far side of the chasm, clearly on guard duty, from their stance and their complaints. They do not appear to have noticed the party yet.

All squares with stalagmites count as difficult terrain, should that come to be important. With the lessened heat in this area, it's now possible to heal the effects of the fiery terrain you've just traversed. And there's a new map up!

Taking a back seat for this, though Mordenaar will remind the party that not all are foes...

Gary, can we assume that Ebonwolf is translating?

Gary, can we assume that Ebonwolf is translating?

That was my assumption.

Should have stated that at the beginning, but yes I will always translate unless it would reveal our presence if we are trying to stay silent.

As the group approaches the bridge Ebonwolf reiterates what he has been hearing in the caverns. He also goes to say
"Torag be allow'n me ta restore one of ya ta day. Sor' I cannoe do more. I can also provide som' heal'n from the heat as well."

Only prepared one casting of Lesser Restoration, Also I can expend as many wand charges that are needed to Heal everyone back to full or where you feel comfortable, Feel free to roll the Healing yourselves, Its just CLW CL1.

CLW CL1 Wand on Self: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
CLW CL1 Wand on Self: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

Once everyone is feeling better Ebonwolf asks "Shall I be request'n a parley at this junction? Or shall we be look'n at other options?"

Drizz’n, whose attention is mostly taken by the crystal filled chamber, says: ”It’d be a shame to waste resources on a fight if we didn’t need to. I can only make so much gloom in one day. I’m not a gloom machine. Plus, explore, report, cooperate, right? I mean, I could totally take these guys on if we really had to. Four bored Oreads? That’s like, whatever. But sure, let’s try talking to them first.”

Gm Khel the Map is view only btw :)
Now that everyone has had a chance to breath Ebonwolf will move forward as non-threatheningly as possible Shield still on his back weapons at his sides. He will hail the guards in Terran, he inflects his words and attempts to keep with the slow pace of the Terran language so as not to seem uncooth in his pronunciations. Think about a very slow speaking person who innuciates every single word or how the Tree ents in LotRs talk.

"Hail my Earthen Breathern. My traveling companions and myself." he jokes letting out a gravelly laugh "We seek passage through your territory unscathed so we may make way on our journey. How might we make this request of you and your group?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (2) + 11 = 13 Eek, I must have used the wrong word for group. Hopefully I did not gravely offend anyone's mother. :)

Map sharing fixed to allow editing! I'm afraid you can't really do all that healing without the guards becoming aware of you, which might be awkward if you have not spoken to them yet.

The guards scramble to attention and turn to face the bridge, scowls on their faces. A couple of them raise crossbows until another says, "Hold on, hold on, let's see what they've got to say." He turns a very skeptical eye on Ebonwolf and says, "Not many pass through here unscathed. What is your business and why does it take you through the Crystalmaw Pass?"

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Dirch speaks Terran also

Howdy, folks. My name's Dirch. Gosh, I know all about mean bosses. My boss, Mr. Bundesheim, is going to be so mad at me. Geez, I'm in so much trouble. But, you know what always helps? If Mr. Bundesheim has something to eat, he's way more understanding and nice. So, I'm bringing back some nice treats from the Plane of Earth, you know, stuff that's hard to get back home. You folks want to trade? I got a chocolate pudding cup that has a Taldan vanilla wafer in it. I bet your boss never had that on the Plane of Earth.

Rikimaru doesn't speak Terran. How long is the bridge?

Sadly Drizz’n doesn’t speak Terran either, so he can’t assist. Can anyone else chime in?

The bridge looks to be 20 feet long. Rikimaru, do you know how to find the maps? There’s a link to the google docs under the GM’s name that says Crystalmaw.

Mordenaar doesn't speak the consonant heavy language, but it sounds like Dirch is doing well, so he continues to stay unobtrusive.

Knowledge (planes), anyone, to know what languages oreads are likely to speak?

Know. Planes: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13

Ebonwolf is confident that oreads generally speak Terran and Common, and supposes that any who live here on the border between the Planes of Fire and Earth likely speak Ignan as well.

Zirt rides forward and waves tiredly at the new friends, perking up ever so slightly from her slumped-over sadness. "Hello," she offers wearily. "I'm rather tired right now, so could we just skip the fighting and sit down with some crossword puzzles or something like that? Maybe have a cup of tea?"

Diplomacy to Aid: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (17) + 11 = 28

”That’s right,” Drizz’n says. ”I’m sure we can work something out here. And it’d be terrible to waste such a perfectly good pudding.”
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15 Drizz’n will aid! I hope...

The oread seems to warm a little bit as Dirch speaks to him, ”Pudding, eh? I don’t know, seems like it could be some sort of trick.” When Zirt and Drizz’n weigh in, the guard takes his hand away from the hilt of his mace and says, ”Never had pudding and tea before, might be good with that wafer thing the guy mentioned. Why don’t you all come with me to the camp?” He guides the party a bit deeper into the cavern, where the bandit camp is visible. The camp stands in a large, easily defendable cavern adjacent to the Crystalmaw Pass, illuminated by clusters of sharp, violet crystals. A tall bluff looms over the middle of the camp, surrounded by a collection of colorful tents. Several dozen oreads move around the area. The cavern is blessedly free from the worst influences of the Plane of Fire, allowing the party to feel some relief from the previous hardships of travel.

On the outskirts of the ring of tents, a human woman with distinct facial tattoos sits outside a tent, repairing some damaged armor. She looks the party over quickly and a look of recognition crosses her face. She gestures to the Pathfinders to enter her tent and leads the way inside. The tent contains a small cot and neatly organized equipment tied into portable bundles. A cluster of sharp, glowing crystals encased in a protective glass bathes the room in a violet light. A makeshift table made from several crates pushed together takes up the center of the room, its surface covered in a chaotic collection of papers and maps.

The woman takes a deep breath and speaks, “As you may know, my name is Grave Treader, and I used to be a Pathfinder, as I surmise you are. After being part of an unfortunate mission to the Crystal Womb, I worked for a while in the Opaline Vault. During my time there, I learned that some miners had discovered a gate with clockwork motifs carved into its surface. As I researched these symbols, I began to suspect that this gate could lead to an artifact known as the clockwork cipher. When I had finished my contract in the Opaline Vault, I set out learn more. That’s when I ran into the Sundered Stone, as this bandit group call themselves. I couldn’t operate in this region without their blessing, and my resources were beginning to run thin, so I struck a deal with their leader, Jathune Voidstone. I’d get the artifact and he’d gain any other treasure that was found beyond the gate.” Grave Treader pauses for a while to collect her thoughts.

“I’ve finally pinpointed the location of the gate and I’ve found the means to open it, but I’ve grown uneasy with the deal I made with Jathune. He has become increasingly cruel and violent in the recent months, as well as ruthless about selecting his targets.” Grave Treader frowns. “I pride myself on being a woman of my word. I made a deal with him, and I am loath to go back on my agreements, but his actions of late concern me greatly. I no longer trust that he doesn’t intend to kill me and take the artifact for himself. Fortunately, I have not told him the location of the gate. I doubt it is safe to investigate such a place alone, but with you by my side, we could uncover the gate’s nature. You can keep anything we find behind the gate other than the clockwork cipher itself, and you are welcome to analyze the artifact for your reports back to the Grand Lodge. “

“I take it by your presence here that the Society has interest in this region, and someone like Jathune would endanger any plans you might have. Here again we can work together. His cruelty has made him increasingly unworthy of leadership. The Sundered Stone would be better off without him. If you defeat him, I believe I can get the rest of the bandits in line, hopefully with the help of Jathune’s second in command, Pamari.” She looks around the tent, her eyes filled with determination. “What say you. Will you help me?”

"Aye. Protecting against a double cross is nothing new to me, and it's always distasteful to see it happen. Aye. I'll help."

”Greetings and well met, Grave Treader. I’m the Gloomslinger.”

Drizz’n pauses for dramatic effect. And then pauses again because he doesn’t immediately know what else to say. And then:

”I mean, that’s just what some people call me. You can call me Drizz’n. It’s not a big deal. We’re happy to help, I’m sure, but what Is this clockwork cypher all about?”

Having a moments of respite Ebonwolf takes a moment to heal those he can If he can ;)

"Ai Lass I be will'n ta help. Bare with me a moment though. Nah as my companion 'ere asked about the Cipher might I also ask you more about this Jathune. Were'n anythin' else happen ya think tha might ah caused him ta be coming more cruel? Also, might ya be able to provide a bit of restoration to some o' me companions?"

Never Hurts to ask :) Is she able to offer up a spell slot or possibly a Scroll of Lesser Restoration?

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (5) + 0 = 5

Young Dirch cheerily assumes the best in people, and believes every word of Grave Treader.

Being the knowledgeable guy he is, Dirch would like to do a knowledge check on the Clockwork Cypher, Jathune, and the Sundered Stone. What knowledges, if any, are appropriate?

Howdy, Grave Treader. My name's Dirch. I'm pleased to meet you. We've been looking for you. Sorrina Westyr sent us to bring you back.

And now, I can go back and tell Mr. Bundesheim about this crazy accounting mission! Hopefully, he won't be too mad at me. Oh, yeah, I'm supposed to trade those guys for my pudding cup. What's yummy that I can take back from the Plane of Earth?

Now that we're here, can we rest up and spend the night? Dirch could use some Lesser Resto and some healing.

We should detect magic in case someone is listening/watching this tent

Rikimaru steps closer, and lowers his voice.

Have you seen anyone following you?

Rikimaru steps to the tent entrance, discretely looks around at the camp, and looks for anyone who appears to be looking a little to long at Treader's tent.

Perception: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (12) + 11 = 23

No doubt, news of our arrival to this camp is already on his way to Jathune. He must have hench-minions watching you, and now us. Jathune sounds like the kind of man who is not only impatient, but paranoid. Cruelty does not become a trusting nature. He's likely to questions why you haven't delivered your part of the bargain. He'll assume our arrival is prelude to you backing away from your word, which, Rikimaru looks apologetic for his next statement, is exactly what you're asking us to help you do.

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (1) + 11 = 12

Rikimaru shifts defiantly, We're going to have to loose any of these hench-holes, before we make for any destination whether it be the gate or back to Sorrina.

Grave Treader considers the barrage of questions launched at her by the Pathfinders, and smiles faintly, saying, ”You are proper Pathfinders, and will be of great help in this investigation with that attitude. As far as what the clockwork cipher is, I know only what rumor has told me, that it is an artifact of some great power, and that it is found within an abandoned temple of Brigh, the goddess of invention. As to what is ‘yummy’ here on the plane of earth, I’m afraid I know even less. This is a place where some creatures consider a flawless diamond to be a delectable treat, and where others sear the nearly indestructible meat of their prey in the heart of a volcano before consuming it, so I know not what you could bring back to your home to share or sell. If there are such suitable treats, they will not be found here, at Crystalmaw Pass. But I’d be curious to try this pudding cup you speak of.”

Her smile fades as Ebonwolf and Rikimaru’s questions take the conversation in a graver direction. “Jathune was a mercenary in the war between the Opaline Vault and City of Brass until his mercenary company was devastated. Pamari, the ifrit sorcerer, faced a similar fate, though she was on the opposite side of the conflict. Together, they decided that it wasn’t worth it to die in that pointless war, and they joined forces. They established the Sundered Stone from former mercenaries and other wanderers displaced by the war. I’ve gotten to know Pamari and she’s a good person. Jathune’s brutality disturbs her as well, but her loyalty to him runs deep.”

”As to whether I’ve been followed, or will be, I think not. Jathune still trusts me.” She gives Rikimaru a pained look at his brutal honesty and continues, ”Though, as you say, he has little reason to at this point. We must get through the gate and recover the clockwork cipher before he knows we’re gone. I can get us out of camp unnoticed, and various members of the Sundered Stone are away on raids enough that our absence should not be noted. Let us get some way from camp and you can rest and restore the damage from your travels before we enter the temple.”

You’ll have a night’s rest and time to restore spells and such before entering the temple of Brigh.

to save resources then since we have the nights rest Ebonwolf would spontaneously cast all spells to heal the party and re prepare for the next day. In regards to the ability damage Ebonwolf can provide long term care via heal skill to resolve the damage. I even have a healers kit too.

Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Thinking about the temple Ebon pulls our a few holy texts and tries to think of what he knows... to which he knows little.

Mordenaar, ever ready takes the time to sharpen his blades, Sinister and Dexter. He is, otherwise, ready.

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17

Dirch pales as he realizes that these crazy people are going into the Gate. He panics and regrets not contacting Mr. Bundesheim sooner.

Dirch thinks back to his Religion classes, and can't recall a Temple of Brigh.

Dirch pulls out his wand of Spectral Hand and prepares to cast Greater Invisibility for when the group escapes the camp.

Knowledge Religion: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21

Stories have circulated in my clan the works of Brigh, the goddess of invention. One my masters has told the tales that she breaths life into mechanical golems, and that it is a sight to be seen. She appeals to the mechanically curious and gnomes, but is otherwise not well known.