I just......refuse to railroad, man. Even though it makes me cack whenever I hear the whinging "this AP is such a railroad!" post, I try ernestly not to do it. Or at least make the players think it's all their idea.......
If I ever can figure out some cunning story, some clever shyamalanian twist,....I fully intend to create an adventure where the arson of the "dungeon" is necessary or crucial to the plot in some manner.
Edwin peers through the gloom stirred up by Myron's shout, and can be heard to mutter,...
"Rats. WHY did have to be rats?"
heh. heh heh....
mwahaha.......
they sound pretty lively; they're too damn quick to get a good look at though.
Alinya is well to the back of the group, expecting disaster at any moment as Myron, Edwin, and Rholf investigate the derelict building. She's holding her symbol of Pharasma, and seems to be repeating a minor rite or incantation over and over under her breath.
Something about this place has spooked all of her natural curiosity out of her.
The young oracle remains within reach of Rholf, but she's paying little to no attention to the house. She's looking around, but she seems to be listening to something as an unfelt breeze stirs her hair.
"I'M ENTERING THE ROOM TO THE LEFT! The damn stair's too rickety to support me and my armour!" Myron carefully makes his way into the next room. G!!*&$ned rats. Someone needs to burn this place down...
The young oracle remains within reach of Rholf, but she's paying little to no attention to the house. She's looking around, but she seems to be listening to something as an unfelt breeze stirs her hair.
They start singing, about a train coming around a bend(?)
"I'M ENTERING THE ROOM TO THE LEFT! The damn stair's too rickety to support me and my armour!" Myron carefully makes his way into the next room. G%*~#~ned rats. Someone needs to burn this place down...
Fire's cool!
That room was a parlor,......big window to the outside. It's trashed. Nothing useful in there;......
continuing on, there's a kitchen, then a common room,
and another unidentifiable room with a broken spinning wheel,....
and the bottom floor is completely explored; nothing of value, and it took 5 minutes.
The place has been gleaned over; anything portable is broken beyond usefulness or value.
time check: 1:45 pm.
They start singing, about a train coming around a bend(?)
"I'M ENTERING THE ROOM TO THE LEFT! The damn stair's too rickety to support me and my armour!" Myron carefully makes his way into the next room. G%*~#~ned rats. Someone needs to burn this place down...Fire's cool!
That room was a parlor,......big window to the outside. It's trashed. Nothing useful in there;......
continuing on, there's a kitchen, then a common room,
and another unidentifiable room with a broken spinning wheel,....there's a door, under the stairwell up, that leads to another stairwell down. It's partially collapsed, filled with broken lumber and brick, and lower down, with rock and sand; it'll be more like crawling over broken ruin than walking down a stairway to get down there.
and the bottom floor is completely explored; nothing of value, and it took 5 minutes.
The place has been gleaned over; anything portable is broken beyond usefulness or value.
They start singing, about a train coming around a bend(?)
somebody shot a man in some nonsense madeup place name, just to watch him die(?)
“This was likely the care-takers or warden’s house,” muses Castiel. “There’s unlikely to be anything of value to our investigation within.” He glances about, his gaze lingering in the direction of the main prison.
Hears more scuttling; not sure where it's coming from.
somebody shot a man in some nonsense madeup place name, just to watch him die(?)They start singing, about a train coming around a bend(?)
Edwin shuffles back a step, then straightens his attire to cover his nervousness.
"Excellent. I suppose it's up a less-armored individual to check the upstairs?" He asks rhetorically. He looks wistfully at the rest of the men, then briefly contemplates the ladies before shaking his head to clear it of any such nonsensical thoughts.
"Heading upstairs. Carefully." He says needlessly as he pulls out his rapier from under his long coat. He sets his jaw firmly, and cautiously makes his way to the stairs. He contemplates the rickety construction for a long moment. (the scurrying sounds perhaps causing to take longer than absolutely necessary,) then, slowly and ever so cautiously, makes his way up the stairs, testing each step carefully before trusting his full weight to it.
Edwin curses as a sudden flurry of movement from his hidden 'friends' startles him,...
The stairs collapse.
Along with half of the front wall of the house.
DC 15 reflex save for Myron; Edwin; and on your honor...anybody within five feet of the front of the building; if you fail, you take
damage.....
That's not so bad.....
Edwin's eyes widen at the first creak.
"Oh. $#*^!!!"
The detective turns in mid-air, (literally, as the stairs disappear from underneath him!) and his long legs take the collapsing stairs two at a time, barely staying one step ahead of the rotten woods collapse!
Castiel barely leaps back from his station at the front door as the front wall of the house comes crashing down.
"Myron! Edwin!"
Reflex Save:
Seeing the building begin to collapse, Rholf attempts to extricate himself from the danger, but catches his foot on a stone. Falling, he brings his shield up, deflecting some of the debris, but taking a measure of it to his torso and head.
As the dust settles, Rholf stands up gingerly, wiping dust and blood from a wounded cheek. "Yes... Should've burned it." He looks about to see who else may need some assistance.
Alinya clasps her hands to her mouth and squeals in alarm as a billowing cloud of brick dust, rotten wood, and dried rat droppings envelops her friends. She takes a couple of steps back, eyes wide, and is very relieved when the cheerful and unhurt forms of Edwin and Castiel emerge from the debris. Rholf is not so lucky.
"Oh! Rholf! Are you alright?"
Alinya clasps her hands to her mouth... from the debris. Rholf is not so lucky.
"Oh! Rholf! Are you alright?"
"Yes, Lady Gurov. It is not as bad as it probably looks. Thank you for your concern, though." Rholf says as he draws out his waterskin to flush the wound. "Perhaps someone could assist me for a moment while I wash this... stuff... off of my face and hands, please?"
"Father Kastigarr! Oh, let me have a look at that!"
Heal check
"Hey, careful there, Drood, I... GAAAAAH!" Myron disappears underneath a cloud of dust and debris. "Ah. I'M RIGHT NEXT TO THE STAIRS! There's an old bookcase on top of me, I think."
Rholf immediately drops his waterskin and wades into the debris to help Myron. "Are you injured!?"
Not too bad, as the derelict abode collapses partially on the small group exploring it.....it could have been worse.
Edwin emerges from the cloud of dust, coughing and waving a hand in front of his face. He looks at the remains of the building wryly.
"Yes. Definitely should have left it to Myron. Myron?" The detective half shouts, half coughs as he goes carefully back towards the stairs to look for Myron. He sees a tuft of familiar hair sticking out from under a bookcase, and soon extricates his traveling companion from under the remains of the shelf, stairs, and other debris best left unidentified.
Castiel also leaps forward, locating the old wardrobe amongst the debris and lifting it to allow Rholf to pull Myron free.
A cloud of snowflakes drift out of the wardrobe. Or maybe it's furniture stuffing....
A cloud of snowflakes drift out of the wardrobe. Or maybe it's furniture stuffing....
The staircase is no more. The stairway down is guarded by even more detritis than before; the second floor is reachable, though not by conventional means.......
time check: 1:50 p.m.
"Father Kastigarr! Oh, let me have a look at that!"
Heal check 1d20 + 11
** spoiler omitted **
He's got a bone bruise on his cheek, and a flesh wound.
And there's a big nail driven through his forearm.
Rholf's pupils are the same size though.
No concussion.
“Shall we give this up as a poor idea and investigate elsewhere?” asks Castiel, looking back again at the prison. “There don’t appear to be ghosts here at this house, just rats and rot.”
Alinya is relieved that neither Rholf nor Myron are badly hurt. There is one casualty however, "Myron, your fine new armor. Covered in ... debris." Alinya has a flashback to when a favourite new dress was ruined by a careless servant. Traumatic.
Alinya is relieved that neither Rholf nor Myron are badly hurt. There is one casualty however, "Myron, your fine new armor. Covered in ... debris." Alinya has a flashback to when a favourite new dress was ruined by a careless servant. Traumatic.
Vermouth.....on a snow white gown.....the horror. the....horror....
Just now noticing the nail through his forearm, Rholf stands silently for a moment, then takes a knee outside the debris, leaning the elbow of his wounded arm while gripping his wrist with the other hand.
"Umm... It would seem I hadn't noticed this little pleasantry before. Would someone mind? Straight up and out, nice and quick."