The fungus flails around silently for a moment and they lays still. The threat neutralized you have time to poke around the laboratory.
A strange creature that resembles a two-foot-long tadpole with a mass of four facial tentacles and a lamprey-like mouth is laid out on a wax dissection pad on the table.
A length of countertop on the northern wall of the room contains a dose of id moss, two doeses of bloodroot, and a a dose of Terinav root The gnome's body is rotted beyond recognition, but a search of his corpse reveals the two potions.
Seeing the creature's body and other loot makes Zanril excited and he instantly begins looking over every detail. His mind fascinated with possible new knowledge
Zanril speaks aloud to no one in particular
"Ooooh This is defiantly fascinating. This here is called a mindflayer larva. They are rare and which means they are immensely valuable. However, the tricky part is finding someone to buy such a thing..
"However, these potions of some sort elude my understanding..
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Justified looks around at the room's contents.
Yes, I concur the well read fighter says. A good thing this creature never reached adulthood.
He recognizes the poisons for something potentially valuable but is unsure to their nature.
Sipping the potions he may make some conclusions about what they are.
"Hey guys....don't you think that the boots should have rotted with this dead guy?"
"Identifying Potions: In addition to the standard methods of identification, PCs can sample from each container they find to attempt to determine the nature of the liquid inside with a Perception check. The DC of this check is equal to 15 + the spell level of the potion (although this DC might be higher for rare or unusual potions)."
Graythan shakes his head at Moira. "Based on what it did to Justified's arm, I'd guess that fungus' touch is what did the gnome in. I doubt he's been gone nearly as long it might appear and I'm sure his boots are fine." The dhampir scrutinizes the caves behind them for several long moments before turning back as Justified eyes the restorative potion. He adds with a nod, "We don't have time to dither about, Justified. Drink up." He then turns away from the rest of the findings, the poisons and mind flayer larva in particular, with disinterest and returns his attention to the caves and the interconnected passages.
After examination of the other items found or looted. Zanril looks at the boots and waves a hand over it trying to detect an aura unseen.
Graythan nods with impatient agreement as the others turn from the wrecked room. He keeps his crossbow at the ready as they move toward the sounds of struggle they'd heard earlier.
Moira stares in complete awe as Justified's wounds close. She then whispers to Justified, "Psst....do you think this Allmaker can heal the monthly cramps?
Graythan rolls his eyes and looses a quiet groan at the emerging conversation behind him. He shakes his head and presses onward through the caves despite the distration.
Curling his lip at the discussion, Zanril follows Graythan and Justified through the caves. He casts Dancing Lights
to light the way.
Digging through his pack, he withdraws a small cigarette. A short burst of blue flame sets the end ablaze and it dies down.
He moves up alongside Graythan, and shares a word
"Hello, thanks by the way for springing me out of that cage. I don't believe we were properly introduced. I met the other two err..three"
Exhaling a cloud of blue smoke, he watches Graythan carefully almost analyzing his answer
Backtracking through the caves, you enter a sandy-floored cavern that seems to be some sort of trophy hall.[ooc(K8)[/ooc]The center piece of the displays is an enormous reptilian skull,nearly six feet in length, mounted on a wooden display. Other trophies line the walls-name plates from ships, battered sea chests, mounted heads of sea monsters,and weathered figureheads, each doubtless carrying a sordid history of theft. and betrayal. Among the name plates of ships are names like St. Asmod's Hope and Wavereaper. Another trophy, barnacle-encrusted mast of wood with letters badly eroded by a great deal of time spent below the waves. The only legible letters read "T ...M...AUT." Nearby hangs a heavily rusted ship's bell bearing the name Sea Ghast.
An adjoing storage room is packed with weapons of all shapes and sizes. There are 120 crossbow bolts, 3 short swords, 5 rapiers, 2 longswords,2 scimitars, a glaive, 2 guisarmes. a halberd, 2 light crossbows, a heavy crossbow, 2 battleaxes, 9 throwing axes,and a greataxe to be had here.
Moira stares at the dwarf with seriousness in her eye. Then she bursts in laughter, slapping her knee and putting an arm around his shoulder. "I think we are going to get along fine. You have a sharp wit about you master dwarf. Let's head on out and see what trouble we can get ourselves into."
She then follows Graythan and Zanril to the storage room looking at all the weapons. "Wow. Look at all this stuff. You'd think someone was planning a little war."
"Bahhhh. Some of this is junk anyways."
The rogues eyes spot the maps. "Lookie what we have here. Looks in good condition." She pulls forth the sea charts and shows what she discovered.
Graythan's icy blue eyes fix on Zanril as he turns to regard him. After a long pause, the dhampir nods, "It's Graythan; and you're welcome." Though his answers are brief and his voice is gruff, his reply isn't dismissive or curt - just succinct. He seems more intent on watching the corners and openings in the tunnels as they move through the webwork of passages rather than striking up conversation.
---
"Those look to maybe be worth something, Moira. Good find."
As the others look around for treasures and the such, Graythan focuses his attention on the floor, curious to see if any recent tracks had been preserved.
Moira rolls up the sea charts and stuffs them in her backpack.
"I wonder who acquired all of these trophies."
The rogue takes some time looking about, perhaps for something that is hidden.
The sound of sloshing water fills this damp cavern. The eastern half of the cave consists of a large, frothy tide pool, its depths thick with seaweed and its surface roiling with the surge of the sea. Several narrow fissures in the ceiling seem to lead up and out through the cliff face to the south, allowing a brisk breeze to whip through the chamber.
Beside the pool, hunkered over a large pile ofraw fish and sea anemones, is a madwoman with a twisted jaw of shark's teeth, a hunched back, and wide splayed hands writhing with additional hook-tipped fingers. She hisses at your arrival. "Vanthus? Where are you, my love? Is that you? I knew you wouldn't leave me! Soooo hungry...please...feeeed me..."
Combat Rd1
19 Moira
18 Graythan
18 Justified
14 Zanril
8 Brissa
6 Savarend
Female savage human rogue 2/fighter 1
CE Medium humanoid(chaotic)
Init +6; Senses darkvision 60 ft.
AC 18,touch 12,flat-footed 16; Dodge
hp: 27/27 (3HD);ferocity: DR5/magk
Immune disease,exhaustion, fatigue, mind-affecting, stunning, pain
Resist acid 10
Fort +6, Ref+5,Will +1; evasion
Weakness afflicted
Spd 40 ft.
Melee mwkrapier+5(ld6+1/18-20) and bite- 1(1d4 plus disease [DC 14))
Base Atk +2; Grp +3 Atk Options sneak attack +ld6
Abilities Str 12, Dex 15, Con 18, Int 4, Wis 12,Cha 13
SQ death throes, trapfinding Feats Dodge, Improved Initiative, Quick
Draw,Weapon Finesse
Possessions +1 studdedleather, masterwork rapier, purple silk cloak with emerald clasp worth 20 gp, silver locket containing a tiny portrait of Vanthus (worth 10 gp)
Moira moves forward and to the side and tries to draw Brissa's attention with her typical banter. "Damn....what happened to you? Did you get hit with the 'Ugly Stick'?
Zanril looks at the creature for a moment and shoots an arrow of corrosive element
Charging in Justified lands a grievous wound to the monstrosity. Zanril's magical projectile finishes the job and puts the creature out of its misery. It collapses to the floor hissing and clawing at the sand, as its flesh bursts into spitting acidic bile. After a few more twitches, it lays still.
+1 studded leather, masterwork rapier, purple silk cloak with emerald clasp worth 20 gp, silver locket containing a tiny portrait of Vanthus (worth 10 gp)
With nothing else of note in the area, you continue your exploration and find another chamber, This cavern has been outfitted with the finest in stolen furniture. Thick rugs cover the floor, and fine silk tapestries and masterful seascape paintings hang from the walls, giving the place an almost regal feel. A four-poster bed takes up much of a large nook to the south, and nearby stands an oak desk with a matching armoire. Alas, much of this furniture is ruined, spattered and stained with gore and deeply scarred by swordplay. A partially eaten body dressed in the ruins of a once-fine suit of studded leather lies in a red heap at the foot of the bed. The acid remains of five more bodies lie about the room, horribly deformed men and women who seem to have perished on a rapier's point.
Looking through the items, Zanril stands up and looks at his rescuers
"How should we divide this up"
Gazing at the bodies, he nudges the partially eaten one with the toe of his boot.
"Hm..I wonder what killed them"
Moira goes to the body, amidst the gore, starts to remove the studded leather armor. She begins to heave and stops for a couple of seconds to compose herself and then gets back to retrieving the armor.
"I think this armor might fit me....if only I can clean it up a bit." She stops and looks at Justified, looking for his approval.
Graythan frowns as Moira sets about her grisly task, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he looks about the wreckage of the room and over the blistered corpses, "Someone put up a good fight. Held off five of those twisted monstrosities with what looks like a thin blade. Perhaps a rapier? Hmmm."
He then starts looking closely at the floor and the surrounding area, moving through slowly trying to piece the fight back together in his mind's eye. "Six bodies on the floor, did the sixth beat the five and succumb to their caustic post-death eruptions? Or was there a seventh person who got away?"
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Breathing hard with the exertion Justified says Thanks for the help bringing that thing down Zanril. I was sure I had taken it out, but was wrong. It could have delivered a vicious bite if not for your spell. Oh, if you need something we have found just use it for now. When we get back to town we will divvy things out as fairly as we can.
Later...
I think it will look dashing on you Moira. Perhaps our new wizard friend can be persuaded to cast Prestidigitation to clean it up?
Picking up the cloak with emerald clasp
"Hmm, this fits quite nicely. I think I shall wear it for the time being"
Walking alongside the party, Zanril overhears Justified
"Yes, my dear half-elf...persuade me"
Zanril chuckles to himself, wondering what the half-elf has in store for him
Moira puts her hands together, fingers intertwined in a begging fashion.
"Pleazzzzzzzzzzeeeeee clean for me." She looks at Zanril, tilts her head and begins to flutter her eyelashes.
Then she approaches him and rests her head on his shoulders saying, "Prettttty Pleezzzzzzzzz." With her approach the mage gets a whiff of the decay that the rogue has been cleaning.
His nose slightly wrinkling with the whiff of death carried by the rogue. He turns his head slowly to face Moira, and smiles warmly
"It seems I have been convinced. Here you are"
Looking to Justified, and guffawing
"Your friend's attempts at persuading me are..hmm whats the word..ah yes.. cute.. fits this. Haha"
Studying the room, Graythan pieces together the battle. It appears that the eaten individual was swarmed by these creatures and felled several before being overwhelmed. From the blood smears, it appears the victors ate their fill before heading on deeper into the caverns.
Moira jumps for joy and start performing cartwheels.
"After you gentleman"
Zanril gives a courteous bow and waves the Dwarf and Human ahead of him
Thinking it better to search the room and detect for magic before leaving, the party spreads out. Moira, peeking under the bed, finds the rapier that put all these creatures to death. It has a beutiful bronze hilt in the shape of a griffon and Zanril confirms that it is magical .
Zanrils magical probing also detect a trace of magic amongst the gore of the eaten victim, revealing a plain gold ring . His investigation of he corpse also finds a gore covered darkwood buckler.
Mora's sticky fingers also can help but rifle through the dresser drawers and she is not disappointed, finding a small stack of silver bars (100gp total).
Leaving the room and moving deeper, you can hear the sounds of active battle. Soon the unmistakable slobbering cries of rage and hunger from several savage pirates, and a woman's voice shouting profane threats and curses become audible.
The floor of this cavern slopes downward to the southeast, finally ending in a large tide pool. The waters seem to be surging from a submerged passageway leading to the southwest. A hammock strung between two stalagmites sways gently to the south, next to an overturned table and a broken chair.
A woman has been backed into the southern corner of the cave, where she uses the overturned table as cover to fend off a number savage pirates. Over a dozen more lay dead on the ground. When she spies you, she cries out, "Oi! Get in the fight or stay outta me way, buckos. These things are lookin' to die, and I plan on obliging."
As you move to support, you get a better look at the woman. She is a bold beauty with raven-black hair that glows like the deepest shade of midnight against her deeply tanned skin. She wears tight leather armour studded with fire opals and pearls and wields a curved rapier and dagger in a blinding display of swordplay. As she fights, she taunts her foes "Ye picked the wrong lass to make a meal of today, precedes one thrust and "Hungry? Have a taste o'me cold steel, ya stinking carcass!" another. She seems to recognize one of the savage
pirates and says "Jebidiah? Is that you lad? You've looked better boy. Here, let me send you on your way." She is a whirling spectre of death and the distraction your approach provides her with enough of an advantage to cut down the rest of the pirates.
Sucking oxygen, she turns to you with a raised eyebrow, "What manner of driftwood do we have here? Speak up! Your names, lubbers! If only so's I can cut 'em inta' yer chests and save the undertaker some asking around"