Time for the Tomb of Borrors!

Sorta like a rodent.

Hey, Nasty. Do you have any rodents in your ancestry?

"Nope no rodents I have eaten a bunch of rats does that count?"

"Oh I think my uncle Hester was a wererat does that count?"

"What do we do next Boss/"

We enter the Fortress Bordoor. Hopefully somewhere in there is the clue to the location to the Tomb of Borrors.

Given how this group operates I have learned to disarm traps rapidly, used my feat for the extra talent of Quick Disable......

"What are we waiting for?"

"okay where Fort?"

There is no fort only a hall that leads into...BOORDOR at least what you believe to be Boordor. The ancient kindom of Boordor had always been described as a barren waste.

What you see at the end of the hall appears to be lush jungle

Boots of striding and springing check.....bracers of braciation ; ( nope

Loincloth check.....

Let's clear out this jungle and sell the land to developers. I'm thinking strip malls.

Can I have a cattle farm?

*Pulls machete out of bag and starts blazing a trail.*

Anyone know a good hack and slash travel song, besides the ones Nasty's mother taught him?

"Hack, hack hack the brush, not the trees....watch for ants and bees, hack hack hack don't stand under the monkey when he pees...."

Nasty pouts at not being able to sing his lullaby about hacking and slashing apart Gnomes and Halflings. It always helped him sleep so well at night.

*Hacking and Slashing.*

On Lookout: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (13) + 15 = 28

Perception
1d20 + 10 ⇒ (18) + 10 = 28

"What's that moving vine it's a snake, what's that buzzing sound it a forest drake.....hack hack hack your way through the woods...to grandmother's house....wait..."

Trapdodgers double sickles work overtime to help him move into the dense jungle.....

As you exit the tunnel from the Ooze kingdom you are indeed greeted by the sight of jungle. In front of the entrance to the tunnel you all see what appears to be some kind of primitive altar covered in dried blood. There are tracks heading off to the south. They look to be bare footed human tracks.

Do they lead from the altar?
Are they bloody footprints?

"Grimlocks? Gith? Savages? Human Centipede?"
asks the inquisitive kender

Alissa/TD: They do lead from the crude altar, It is difficult to tell if the prints are/were bloody as the ground is dirt and this being a jungle and all. It rains here alot.

Is there any left over bits? Nasty walks up to the Altar. He tastes the blood to see how old it is. He takes a big wiff of the air to see if he can smell any creatures nearby.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (16) + 12 = 28

Nasty: Any "Bits" were washed away, The blood is 1d4 ⇒ 4 weeks old

"Great we are just in time to be considered candidates for the monthly sacrifice to a primitive dark god!"

Are you saying that Nasty has his own cult?

How fresh are the tracks?

Tracking: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (8) + 15 = 23

He looks at the altar does it look like him?

Or perhaps his god the Great Devourer?

Exactly what would differentiate an alter of horrible sacrifice from an all-you-can-eat buffet table to Nasty?

Alissa: This is a pretty wellworn footpath so it's difficult to tell. Some are older some are fresher, none are fresher than 1 month old.

Nasty:Religion: 1d20 - 10 ⇒ (6) - 10 = -4...Yeah it's definetly dedicated to the great devourer.

TD: As far as I know they are one and the same

Interesting! A rain that will wash away fleshy bits, but leaves blood and footprints.

Alissa: The blood stains on the altar are "soaked" into the surface. Nasty's tongue however is a very special alchemical tool/weapon that can extract even the smallest bit of nutrition from seemingly nothing.

The footprints are really nothing more than human sized oval imprints in the dirt along the pathway.

I have a very sensitive tongue.

Tvashtri scrutinizes the altar.

Knowledge (Religion): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

"I was never overly religious, but growing up in Tashboor, one inevitably learns some things...."

Apparently TAK spent his childhood reading books. I spent mine pulling the wings off butterflies and stuffing eggheads like him in dumpsters.

Hence your devotion to Bashy.

Search the altar for hidden things: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (4) + 15 = 19

TAK:This altar is not dedicated to any known religion.

Alissa: The altar contains no hidden secrets or surprises

How does the Altar taste? Nasty pulls off a piece of the altar and eats it.

I think I spent my childhood avoiding creatures bigger than me trying to me or eating them.

That which didn't kill me made me stronger cause I ate them.

Try having a father that kept trying to turn his 5 year old daughter into a lich so she would always be "daddy's little girl".

Or a great-grandfather who invites you to visit by telling you to "go to Hell!"

Nasty: The altar tastes of stone, mold and old irony blood

Nasty: The altar tastes of stone, mold and old irony blood

So Nasty finally slew irony itself.

All I can say is... How ironic.

Nothing here. Lets follow the tracks.

The tracks leads into the jungle and movement is slow and tedious, all around you hear the sounds of monkeys screeching and occasionaly in the distance you hear loud roars.

Random Encounter Possibilities: 1d100 ⇒ 1...wow that's awesome lets go to Wilderness Wandering Monster Table #3: 1d100 ⇒ 81

After a few days travel through the thick jungle you see what looks to be a clearing in front...but strangely it looks as if some trees are moving to close off the way.

Who dares disturb our sacred grove a voice calls out with a sound reminescent of Nasty with a mouth full of bark

Who is asking?

"Oh! Oh1 Me! Me! Trapdodger Barefoot kender explorer and wanderer, but I didn't come to disturb you or your man-grove."

Trap Springs forward in a single leap.....

"It's me! It's me."

Sheepishly puts both sickles behind his back and whistles innocently.....

I furtively stuff my whittling project into my pack before they see it.

Alissa: The voice seems to be coming from the trees surrounding you.

TD:What brings you to our sacred grove Trapdodger Barefoot

AMH: Perception: 1d20 - 10 ⇒ (11) - 10 = 1...psssheew, lucky for you that ent's have crappy perception due to the branches and leaves in their face

"Lucky we're not orcs!"

"right lucky we are not orcs." he says standing next to Jenny trying to seem smart.

Then he thinks about it a moment starts counting on his fingers mumbling something about troll, bugbear hill giant and something.

Then turns to Jenny and says. "I am not all orc but I do have some of it in my family. Does that count?"

"We were lost in a big maze and found some great stuff and are headed to Boordor, and we have to go through here to get to there....I think. Say what are you?"

I swear if he calls me a little Orc!!!!!