Mukluk looks at the muck, then the elf, then back to the muck and shrugs.
If someone knows muck, it's probably him.
Doruk moves around getting more and more covered in muck.
"Let us head to that cavern over there and see if we can cross that bridge. Might be deadly, but we should examine it just in case..."
Don't lose another shield you fool!
"Bah. It's only deadly if ye die. I 'aven't done yet."
"Then by all means lead on."
Petrel will have pocketed some of the lichen and bugs, & though the later may make an escape perhaps some eggs will be left behind.
Maybe I can be an underground farmer when I retire...
"Should we go into the moldy room? Perhaps our fire elf can use magics to burn it out, like before."
"I haven't seen anything worthy of retrieving and I would rather save my fire for something that is moving. Besides, this place already reeks enough without adding to the hoard of aromas."
Mobled, in her cloud of whiskey fumes, wonders, What 'roma?
Doruk hesitates at the bridge.
"I don't know. This looks pretty slippery. Maybe we should tether ourselves with the rope just in case."
This long narrow cavern is half-filled with a powerful underground river, racing along at a breakneck pace. The chamber is about 20 to 30 feet in width; you stand on a narrow ledge overlooking one side of the river. A bridge of stone spans the river, leading to a larger ledge on the south side. It looks as if the southern ledge might follow the course of the river some distance to the east.
Everyone actually seems to believe the bridge is sturdy and not the slightest bit damp or slipper, and crosses to the far side.
Here stairs descend to a closed door on the south side of the cavern, and you can tell it continues off into the dark to the east.
Tiabrar considers the possibilities and finds they are equal as he will be standing safely--he hopes--in the back.
Mobled approaches the door without much caution, but does listen for signs of life.
Presumably not hearing anything but her own loud spirited musing, she tries to open the door.
Doruk stands ready near Mobled. ...ready for whatever may poke it's head out that door.
"I'm with you Mobled, let's see what lies beyond that door!"
Made it over the bridge safely anyway.
Doruk grins at his own thoughts.
"Doors? I like doors! Probably they are of strong dwarf make. Let's go see what is inside."
Mukluk enjoins the party as they march to the doors.
"I hope the doors are closed...and locked...so that whatever that was inside is preserved nicely. More history of my people would be nice to see."
As Mobled descends the stairs, she comes to realize that the bottom landing is completely submerged in water. Steadfast in her commitment to stick to a decision once she makes it, she wades forward, listens and hears nothing dangerous, and heaves the old dwarven portal open, revealing a series of dark rooms beyond - all equally submerged in roughly 3 feet of water.
The stench of rot here is practically overwhelming.
No dangerous lurk in apparent readiness in the room beyond - it's just a wretched, practically unbearable odor.
Please make a DC10 Fortitude save.
Also, roll Perception.
Ew. Smells like whiskey and Mukluk's beard!
Overwhelming odor and the stench of decay don't cause the sligthest hesitation for Mobled as she wades forward in water so high, it begins to seep up into her thick tangle of dwarvish hair.
As she swims to the east , she comes upon the skeleton of an orc champion submerged at the eastern-most end of the series of rooms. She quickly searches the corpse, finds a rotting bag filled with potions, and wades back to the stairs.
Her quick search of the area turned up a lot more by the way of rotting supplies, and luckily no submerged, tentacled aquatic horrors.
"Ugh. Coz, ye need t' stop breathin' on me. I'm startin' t' smell like ye."
Mobled continues on into the darkness, ears alert for opportunities to 'wrassle.'
Not to be left behind, Doruk too wades into the filth to support his friend and ally Mobled.
Clear of the muck, Doruk casts Prestidigitation and cleans himself and Mobled of the horrid stench.
"There you go Mobled. Now we can smell the incoming orc hoard rather than the stench of that pit!"
Moving into the new cave...
"I wouldn't have gone in that water, you're braver than I Mobled."
Or inured to the stench.
Mukluk wades in, following Mobled in the water.
Once I smelt her, ain't nothing that is worse. This makes her smell better, even.
Fort Save
* * *
"What's going on up there?"
While walking, Mukluk will try to ID the potions, after casting Detect Magic.
Spellcraft on #1
Spellcraft on #2
Spellcraft on #3
Spellcraft on #4
Spellcraft on #5
Tiabrar stays dry and watches the dwarves wade through the muck.
He then follows along to the next section, a few steps farther away from Mobled and Mukluk.
Mobled is the first to turn the corner into the dark of the next cave, yet her dwarvish vision takes in the whole of it's dimensions before Doruk's shield has an opportunity to illuminate barely the first twenty feet.
A river rushes along the right, separating the northern ledge from a smaller southern ledge. A single, large yet strange stalagmite sits in the middle of this southern ledge.
Your keen vision makes out a whip-like strand hastily moving a flopping fish into a large gaping maw on the stalagmite, which you can swear then turns ever so slightly and holds perfectly still - almost aware of Doruk's oncoming light.
"Haela, tha's 'n ugly tentacly stalactite." Mobled throws up a hand, contemplated the joys of wrasslin' a roper.
Doruk peers into the darkness beyond Martigan's light on his shield.
"Mobled, what do you see? Why stop for just another stalactite?"
Doruk watches the ceiling.
"It's got ropes 'n their movin', ye barmy knocked-noggin. Tentacles, lad, tentacles!"
Mukluk strains to see what Mo is talking about.
Im surprised she didn't confuse 'tent' and 'test' in that last sentence.
If Mo can point out the offending 'ite, Mukluk will target it with a Magic Missile from afar and try to identify.
Know Dungeoneering
Petrel stayed on higher and dryer ground with Tiabrer.
"They splash around like this elf we used to run with, Early-in Hunting Hawks. Mobled reminded me of her, sometimes."
"So what's our plan?"
Martigan eyes the tentacled creature warily.
"It's that tough huh? Hrm. I guess we should go the other way then and leave it be."
"Oh, there is no other way? Can we just attack it from range until it's dead or does it move too? I do have a very nice bow handy and a quiver full of arrows."
"If that's what I think I think it is, then we ain't going this way. And we should probably move back some too. They ain't fast, but deadly as all get out. Certain death, actually."
Mukluk retreats, then retreats again, then retreats one more time.
"We'll need a army of dwarvish berzerkers to get by that and, even then, most of the casualties will be on our side. A roper!? HERE!?!"
Mukluk mutters to himself.
Doruk peers into the darkness and backs away slowly shield in front.
Anything that's got Mukluk that wound up must be truly horrid!
Mobled listens to the dread in Mukluk's voice, which makes its way through a lifetime of bravado and feeling that she has something to prove. She begins to back away, bumping into Doruk and his mighty glaive as she goes. "Er, why wrassle stalagMite anyhoo? We got orcs 'n duergar t' kill."
**
Doruk suggests we continue to cleans the western part of the Glitterhame.
Mukluk is happy to go any direction that isn't filled with ropers or clearly odd women who have been sustained only by their own evil for centuries.
"Yeah, Mob, let's go back to that other place."
Mukluk nods to Petrel.
"Yeah, not even you, Petrel, could have taken that thing on. It'd be painful."
Mukluk continues to walk away.
"Maybe we'll come back when our dwarven army is rebuilt, but not now."
"I didn't know you were planning to use this fortress to build an army? To what end?"
Doruk's curiosity is piqued at the thought of a Dwarven army marching side by side down the mountain into a sea of... Well whatever they want to fight really. He just very much likes the image.
Mukluk looks at Doruk and tries to come up with a good answer.
"Fight what? I dunno. Orcs...thems always good for killing. And gnolls too. They need to be culled every once in a while. And drow. Man, I hate me them drow. They suck. So, yeah, when we get this forge rebuilt, we'll have some fine armies of fine dwarvish berzerkers to tear apart those that would seek to spill our blood or our ale."
Mukluk looks at Martigan.
"And we have a mind to reclaim the Pits of Azak-Zil too. Them pits have the best metal: star-metal...green as grass and strong as anything. Makes good weapons that no foes can resist. You just wait until you get your first star metal weapon in your hands, then you'll see what fighting is all about."
I like dwarves. They're happy to occupy the front lines and short enough that they're easy to shoot over.
Here's the last maps for the main 3 areas. You can follow the stream in the Glitterhame towards the trog lairs, return to Idalla, or climb down into the pit from the Foundry (area 38a).
"I think we should follow the stream to the southwest in that first large area we came to . Seems like there's an opening there so we won't have to get too wet in the process. And no Ropers."
Tiabrar tries to figure out a way where he doesn't get wet at all, but settles for Doruk's plan.
If I'm going to get wet on the outside, I might as well be wet on the inside.
Female voice: Really? That doesn't sound strange to you at all? No. I'm guessing it doesn't. I'm probably the closest you've ever been to a woman.
Tiabrar takes out his flask and takes a long swig. It sloshes as he puts it away.
"I'll have you know I've been close to many women."
Mukluk nods in agreement with Doruk.
"Yeah, yeah, what he said. Anything that keeps us from the ropers is fine with me."
Mukluk looks at the elf as they walk.
I can only imagine what goes through his mind. I suppose it would make me throw up though.
Mukluk puts on a smile to cover up his concern.
"Having fun yet, Elf?"