Mortimer pins the gaunt man to his broad chest, like a collector does a butterfly, or perhaps more a guard does an insane asylum resident. Ascaria readies himself for more healing, bringing a wave of energy to his friends, and restoring the badly injured rager. Raella's rage clouds both judgment and accuracy, her indignation carrying her blade well wide of the massive creature. Solrisa stays her hand a moment longer, debating the transition from spectator to participant on a moment's notice. Tynan thrusts home, his short sword finding ample flesh to rip away, bringing down the great grey... but not before the creature explodes, its decay flung upon both the shortswordsman and the bastardswordswoman.
The great grey, now quite split open, shows thin ribbons of red through the marbled flesh, very reminiscent of second stage changes found in the Red Plague.
"In all fairness, I did tell them not to destroy... gasp... my latest project..." The gaunt man's neck seems to strain from Mort's pinning, and he begins to whine for the dimming circumstance in which he finds himself.
"Bones, sure. What else can I offer? Spare me, please, and you'll never see me again. I'll abandon my work in Diamond Lake. Never should have come in the first place, the more I think about it..."
The gaunt man remains in the giant's arms, a twitch of a struggle stirs subconsciously, but he offers no resistance, allowing Mortimer to remain in control, providing an almost protective embrace against the others.
Round 6, Save
Tynan manages to cover much of his face before the grey's remnants cover him in rotting flesh. Tynan suppresses a gag, then looks over at Filge.
Sickening...
"UGH!!!" Rae tries to shake the bits of gray flesh off her own, all while keeping her lunch inside instead of outside.
AC 17 (15, grappled), 21 (19, grappled) on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +2 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
Round 7, Init 19
So sick of you messing up my friends.
Mortimer growls "sweet nothings" into Gaunt's ear.
"Your work here is done whether you stay in Diamond Lake or not."
He addresses the others -- as best he can being a human straight jacket.
"His body is already failing him, I think -- he won't be getting far even if we were to let him go now."
He resumes glaring at Gaunt. " But we do need answers first, don't we. I'd like to know who put you up to this in the first place. Who funds it?"
He remembers the Great Interrogator, but is careful not to drop names.
"Hey! How is our halfling? She's best at this sort of thing and should have a say in his fate, I think."
Round: 7, Initiative: 18
Weapon Equipped = wand CLW
Cold Iron Bullets (5/10), Silver Bullets (10/10)
Conditions = Blessed (2/20r), Sickened (1/7r)
Channel Energy (4/5) (DC: 15) (1d6+1)
Amiable Blunder (1/1) (if Diplomacy failed by >5, reroll to avoid worsening attitude)
Ranged Attack: BAB +1, Dex +1 Damage: +0
Spells (Caster Level 2, Concentration +6)
Once per Day: Arcane Mark, Comprehend Languages, Message, Read Magic
Zero (14): Create Water, Detect Magic, Light, Spark, Stabilize
First (15): (0/5) Bless, Cure Light Wounds, Liberating Command
”What the?! What foul thing are you trying now necromancer?!”
”NO. You know what? I don’t care. Whatever it is, it’s rotten to the core, as are you.”
Ascaira, red faced from the effort with a little spittle forming at the corner of his mouth spits out, ”Sol. Finish him.”
”Rae, come here that I may heal you - I do not wish to leave Pillette unguarded.”
Round 7, Init 16
Frozen by the awful stench, the halfling can only wait for the paralysis to recede.
"In all fairness, I did tell them not to destroy..."
Fairness? You raise the dead, call for negotiations and then attack, and then you call upon fairness? You've got a lot to learn about the way things work in Cheliax. Fortunately for all involved, it seems you will not have the luxury of any more time to learn them.
She's a bit taken aback by Mort and Ascaria's comments. And it seems these companions might have something to learn about the way things are in Cheliax, showing such interest in a slip.
"But we do need answers first, don't we. I'd like to know who put you up to this in the first place. Who funds it?"
Hmmm. The big guy does have a decent brain to go with his brawn.
"But we do need answers first, don't we. I'd like to know who put you up to this in the first place. Who funds it?"
The gaunt man tries to inhale grandly, finding it difficult to really get a lungful when meaty arms bind his ribcage. "Answers first? Then what? You kill me after you've got what you want?"
"Sol. Finish him."
"See?! That one would just as soon gut me like a fish than listen to me answer questions! Here, here, let me answer your question to your satisfaction, but only one for now, so I might live longer for the knowledge I possess." The man looks up at Mortimer in earnest, before proceeding to look at the gnome, then turn to answer the giant.
"Smenk. Balabar Smenk is the one who summoned me to Diamond Lake. Paid me quite well to relocate from Egorian, as you can see. He's made sure I'm well enough compensated for the duration of my stay."
AC 17 (15, grappled), 21 (19, grappled) on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +2 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
Round 7, Init 19
"Here, here, let me answer your question to your satisfaction, but only one for now, so I might live longer for the knowledge I possess."
"Here -- anyone -- help me tie his hands so he can't cast. There's some rope in my backpack."
Re-addressing Gaunt he asks "So Smenk is responsible for putting you up -- here... but why? Is this Smenk's idea too? What is all this -- experimentation about?"
Mort will release his suffocating grip if anyone in fact steps up to bind the old man.
Sol sheathes her sword, then her shield. She thinks to draw her dagger.
"Could we also cut out his tongue? That would stop the magic words from coming out, right?" Sol asks with complete innocence.
Sol looks around the room for rope.
"Could we also cut out his tongue? That would stop the magic words from coming out, right?"
It seems like I've underestimated the intelligence of this one, too. Maybe these innocents are learning from the realities of the world now? The ghoul stench makes her innards try to flip, even though she can't move Or maybe I'm just slipping in my ability to size people up.
"Cut out his tongue?!!?! Tie his HANDS?!?! We might as well be back home if we're going to suffer the likes of necromancers to just go on breathing their foul stench into the air!!" Rae Rants as she realizes the reality of the renegades reactions.
"We are NOT doing THIS! We are NOT letting such slime continue to live."
Gesticulating wildly with her sword still in hand, Rae advances on the necromantic ne'er do well.
"IF it's NO BIG DEAL, then you won't mind when they bring you back!You WON'T MIND' if we ship you off to the THROWN BONES or the WHITE LADY to be USED there!!" Her voice raises louder and louder as she stalks right up to the grappled man, her spittle flying in his face, her body.
She suddenly stills. she grits out her reassurances, each one punctuated by the thrust of her sword into his throat.
"Don't worry... its no big....de-al..."
He sees it coming, knows what is about to transpire. The gaunt man looks up into Mort's eyes grimly, then flicks his glare back at Raella, defiantly. His ghostly hand wakes from its dormant state, and extends out as if to command the rager to stop in her tracks. "Join me..."
The neck parts as if paper to scissor. The gaunt man's eyes enlarge madly, and his last act in true life is to spray the bastard sword with blood filling his mouth. He collapses in two pieces, body, then head.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +2 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
"Could we also cut out his tongue? That would stop the magic words from coming out, right?"
Out of the corner of his eye in bewilderment, Mortimer watches Solrisa idly wander around the room.
She's really not interested in what he has to say --
His thoughts are interrupted by the Rager verbally raging, and out of the same corner of his eye, he sees the Rager approach sword drawn.
"We are NOT doing THIS! We are NOT letting such slime continue to live."
As the man's head is detatched from its body, he lets the body slide from his grip like so much butter.
...
... ...
Doesn't sound like... It doesn't sound like they would have believed anything he would have had to say anyway.
"Thanks Rae. It was only a matter of time anyway, but I believe you eased this Pawn's passing. Sorry, Filge. You should be glad it happened this way. You play a part in such Evil, your fate would have been much worse at their hand."
Whoever they are.
He wearily wonders over to where the fifth Land's bones lay, and carefully packs them into his backpack. He then rips the apparatus off of the corpse in the operating theatre and (if possible) tips the table over, or (if not possible) pushes the corpse off of the table to the floor.
"Look out, flying glass."
His rampage continues as he flings each floor mirror toward the operating theatre floor, smashing them. He tears down the shelves containing jars full and empty, and leaves no table standing.
"When we're done here, I suggest we put the Lands' bones back where they belong."
After pillaging and on their way out, he opens the window behind the sentry in the bedchamber, and through it unceremoniously kicks the sentry merely because it offends him.
Ascaria watches the bloody deed with satisfaction and guards Pillette until she moves under her own power in a few more seconds.
Then he crosses over to Rae, careful to avoid the flying glass and debris from Mort, and heals her with the wand.
When Rae is healed, he casts Detect Magic and searches Filge, and the rest of the building, for magics that might have escaped the parties destruction.
Rae sags to the floor near Ascaria. As the small man tends to her wounds she thanks him with a nod, but is otherwise silent.
A bit of the stench lifts, but Pillette is not happy about the lingering odor of death. As Rae loses it and goes to town on the treacherous one, the halfling looks on with disdain. Not a surprising end for one meddling with such forces, especially since he didn't seem to be really good at it. If he were a real expert, we wouldn't have gotten this far.
She looks at Solrisa to measure her reaction to her sister's rage, before returning to look on Rae as calmly as possible, waiting to see if she'll return to her normal, every-day angry state. Clearly it's not good to piss this one off.
"Smenk. Balabar Smenk is the one who summoned me to Diamond Lake. Paid me quite well to relocate from Egorian, as you can see."
She tries to suss-out the ghoul-wielder's last words, clicking through her mind for any remembrance of that name, Smenk.
"He had it coming. But it sounds like it was this Smenk who may be causing more problems."
She looks to Tynan and Mort, as they seem to know the most about the underbelly of this ArchLord-forsaken mining berg.
"Don't worry... its no big....de-al..."
Sol claps happily as Rae does a big hit, the way she always does.
"Good one, Rae!! You were *really* angry at him! It was like that time we had that fight about who snored louder," Sol coos at her sister.
Sol looks around the laboratory for things of interest...before being taken aback by the entire place.
"Rae, look!" Sol points to the decor, "If we clean this place up, we could move in here, right? There's a lot more space...I could have a nice rock studio. You could have a space...for...uh...smashing things. We could get new curtains!"
Sol looks out the window.
"Oh! Rae look! There is a nice yard! The puppies could play...oh...oh yeah...nevermind the puppies..." Sol makes a verbal ooopsie, but continues with her train of thought.
"Rae? Rae?! Do you think we could?"
Tynan helps to search the crowded observatory while Ascaria tends to Pillette and Raella.
"Smenk. This is all likely just another ploy to expand on his powerbase here in Diamond Lake. Whatever we do, we should proceed with caution. He's very well connected."
Sol babbles about snoring and dead puppies and then asks, "Rae? Rae?! Do you think we could?"
Lost in her own thoughts, Rae ignores most of her sister's babble, but the last, the thought of living in this house of horrors is too much.
"NO. Not Ever! The sooner we are out of this Hall of Death, the better. Let's go take care of the Lands."
Mortimer's demolition proves quite successful. Glass shatters, and almost all usable vials, beakers, reducers, evaporators... all collapse to the giant's will. All, save for a single glass jar.
It appears quite sturdy, and is currently filled with a viscous substance akin to a clear slime. Within the slimy gel lies a segmented worm, frozen in its vertical insertion.
There are ancient stories of undead creatures, through which worms like these can be found. Spawn of Kyuss.
The jar is sealed tightly, the slimy gel filled to the brim.
As Ascaria proceeds to investigate the observatory with his detections, he is able to pinpoint Filge's necklace as magical, as well as the book Mortimer pilfered from the nightstand in the bedchambers below. Faint traces of magic linger on several of the smashed vials here and there.
With the gnome sniffing over all corners of the observatory, the rest manage to bring together all items of value.
Pouch of coin- 16pp, 5gp
Set of Silverware- 200gp
Fine Set of Clothing, including hat- Noble's outfit for Small creature
Crystal Glasses, smoke tinted- 75gp
Rug- ??
Operating Instruments- 500gp
Wooden chest- 400gp, 70sp
Paperwork turned over from Mortimer's violence reveals Filge's passions with the study of necromancy, noting things that animate bodies with varying degrees of success.
A singular parchment is found tucked within a wooden chest. This chest sits on the back of the nightstand. The parchment reads as follows:
Filge,
I need you in Diamond Lake, my boy. The cult situation has grown worse. Deep within Dourstone Mine, they study things brought in from the southern hills. Green worms and unkillable zombies. I nicked one of the worms for you to study.
I'll put you up in an old observatory just outside of town. Show this letter to the albino half-orc at the Feral Dog. He'll get you settled. I trust you'll find these coins sufficient to cover your costs in relocating from Egorian.
S.
...
The pillaging complete, the group travels to the Land farmstead, where their work finds no interruption. Eventually, all skeletons lie beneath the ground, and lie next to each other. The reinterment is complete.
It is mid-afternoon.
Having done his sweep, Ascaria asks for the book a moment from Mort for investigation. "May I?"
He doesn't open it, but rather simply checks it for auras, along with the necklace.
He watches the party bury the Land family satisfactorily. "Let's see if the poor kid's ghost is finally laid to rest shall we? There's still some daylight left."
Silent and Glum all the way to the Land's, Rae helps with the digging and the burying, grateful for the physical activity to keep her mind off of her failure to keep her temper in check. Again. A thread once severed can never be whole. Though it may be knotted to preserve the weave, the flaw remains, weakening the rest... surely that can't apply to men such as that. But it does...
"Yes, let's go see if the ghost remains." or if my insult and injury to the weave were for naught.
There appears to be a spell cast upon the book, although you fail to get a proper sense as to what spell that might be. The book itself is unlikely to be magical.
The necklace is a macabre version of an Amulet of Natural Armor +1.
Ascaria hands the book back to Mort. "The book itself is not magical, but there's a spell upon it that is. Dunno what it is though, I'm afraid that's not really my field of expertise. Could be some sort of divination, some sort of protection, or nothing of consequence. Either way, I don't trust it."
He holds up the necklace, "This is like the one we found earlier - it will provide some measure of protection against attacks." he hands it to Rae, "All things considered, I think you should wear this one. Since Sol put hers on, she's been untouched. Maybe, with a little luck, the same can be true of you!"
Satisfied the Land's are in the ground, he's ready to move back to the cave.
Know Religion
Sol's brows knit with concern as she explains the slimy wormy thing in the jar.
"This is not good. These Spawn of Kyuss are a deeper evil than most evils," Sol explains momentarily unhappy.
---
Sol takes her time to really look over the observatory and the nearby grounds.
"Rae! We could plant things here! You could be a farmer, right? And flowers!" Sol exclaims, pointing out where flowerbeds might lie. "This is much better than our flat. And this rug!"
Sol continues to jabber and dream at Rae about her excellent idea.
---
Sol again says some last words for the internment of the Last Land.
Know Religion
"Blessed be the Dragon, lead this boy's soul to Pharasma for her judgment," Sol asks.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +3 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
In the wake of his destruction, Mortimer is left full of questions.
This is Diamond Lake.
~
"This is not good. These Spawn of Kyuss are a deeper evil than most evils,"
"Sol? What do you mean by that? What can they do?" He shudders, looking at the jar worm.
"Rae! We could plant things here! You could be a farmer, right? And flowers!"
Mortimer looks up at the observatory and the grounds.
"It needs something. I've been wondering if we shouldn't just set the whole thing on fire -- or at least that guy's notes on animating corpses."~
Green worms and unkillable zombies.
"They're studying green worms and unkillable zombies in Dourstone Mine? Were they trying to figure out how to combat some weird unkillable army in the observatory, or planning on competing? Is this albino half orc Kullen? I haven't seen him yet."
Unkillable zombies? Eternal undeath?
~
As they walk to the Land's farm Rae's words keep echoing through Mortimer's brain.
"if we ship you off to the THROWN BONES or the WHITE LADY to be USED there!!"
He eventually decides to stick out his neck and jogs over to catch up with Rae.
"What does it mean? Thrown Bones? Who is the White Lady?", he asks her, hoping that his pestering doesn't inspire her ire.
~
"The book itself is not magical, but there's a spell upon it that is."
Mortimer scratches the back of his head thoughtfully at this insight.
"I was thinking maybe that this was some kind of business ledger or journal. We'd better not open this until we can identify and get rid of that spell."He tucks it safely back into his backpack after making sure it's bound tightly shut.
~
He silently recites a eulogy of his own at the Land's Family cemetery.
Land Family, we put everything back as best as we are able -- please rest in peace.
Balabar Smenk is well-known to anyone who lives in Diamond Lake. In a fashion, he is becoming Diamond Lake, as he acquires more and more of it. He owns Deepspike Mine, as well as several smaller, nameless mines. The Smenk Residence is known to all, and keeps its front door open to all, a sign of Smenk's openness to all his miners.
There are rumors that hairy beasts other than Smenk wander his house, making his invitation somewhat duplicitous. Also, Lazare has a burning hatred for the man, which he makes no attempt to conceal. He had to sell his own mine to Smenk several years ago, and blames Smenk for the death of his wife for all the heartache it brought his family.
The slip remains quiet and respectful during the proceedings, but also watchful, mindful that the group could attract unwanted attention at any time, and may already have.
She looks hopefully to Ascaria and Sol. "Do we think this has properly settled the affairs of the boy's family?" After this dirty business, perhaps the only way to now for sure is to re-visit the ghost's haunting grounds.
When the solemnity is passed, the halfling will offer her copper's worth on the dangers of the man seemingly behind Filge's work, careful to speak only when out of earshot of strangers.
"Smenk is a power, perhaps the power in Diamond Lake, but at least Lazare has no fondness for him. Smenk forced our erstwhile employer to sell his mine, causing Lazare and his family rather frightful grief." She looks to Tynan, curious if Lazare's doorman might know more about their employer's tribulations.
If these efforts have caused us Smenk's enmity, than it is good to know who might resist the powerful man.
"It also said that creatures wander his 'open door' residence, predators who prey on things plenty bigger than a halfling." Gazing up at Mort, Sol and Rae. "Of course, I have no idea if they are a danger to ones as tough as this lot."
"I was thinking maybe that this was some kind of business ledger or journal. We'd better not open this until we can identify and get rid of that spell."
"Agreed, though we're going to need some outside help to decode what the spell is, let alone dispel it. I'm not sure who to approach to be honest, do you know any wizards?"
- - -
She looks hopefully to Ascaria and Sol. "Do we think this has properly settled the affairs of the boy's family?"
"I certainly hope so, but there's only one way to be sure."
"Smenk is a power, perhaps the power in Diamond Lake, but at least Lazare has no fondness for him. Smenk forced our erstwhile employer to sell his mine, causing Lazare and his family rather frightful grief."
"It also said that creatures wander his 'open door' residence, predators who prey on things plenty bigger than a halfling." Gazing up at Mort, Sol and Rae. "Of course, I have no idea if they are a danger to ones as tough as this lot."
Ascaria frowns, "Hrm. I don't like going up against Smenk, when the only evidence we have is the deathbed confession of one evil necromancer. Maybe Smenk's crooked, and maybe he's not."
"I have a hard time believing that anyone would intentionally invite a necromancer like Filge into town. Maybe nobody did? Maybe Filge is just trying to get us to split the town with fear and contention?"
"Do we think this has properly settled the affairs of the boy's family?"
Sol's brow furls, "Well, he hasn't shown a lot of honesty," then unfurls, as she thinks about how the boy will react and what she expects, "but, maybe he's had time to cool down. I bet he's happy to see us," Sol concludes brightly.
Sol smiles big.
"I can't wait to find out! Maybe there are fun things inside that room!" Sol excites, looking at her sister.
"Rae, think! What do you think is in that room!? I wonder if it's fluffy pillows! I love fluffy pillows!!"
"Let's go find out!" Sol begins to walk back to the haunting.
"Rae! We could plant things here! You could be a farmer, right? And flowers!" Sol exclaims, pointing out where flowerbeds might lie. "This is much better than our flat. And this rug!"
"I don't think I'm cut out to be a farmer, Sis." Especially not in these death drenched halls.
Mortimer looks up at the observatory and the grounds.
"It needs something. I've been wondering if we shouldn't just set the whole thing on fire -- or at least that guy's notes on animating corpses."
"Best idea I've heard yet." Rae grumbles beneath her breath.
He eventually decides to stick out his neck and jogs over to catch up with Rae.
"What does it mean? Thrown Bones? Who is the White Lady?", he asks her, hoping that his pestering doesn't inspire her ire.
Rae jerks, then hunches up a bit. "They're places from back home. In Kaer Maga, Filge would just be an honest business man." She glowers and nearly gags saying it. For all of her good memories of home, there are bad ones as well. "Dealing in twice-born servants and escorts, most likely."
She too is interested in seeing how the ghost fares.
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"I have a hard time believing that anyone would intentionally invite a necromancer like Filge into town. Maybe nobody did?"
Oh, this one still has much to learn.
"Maybe Filge is just trying to get us to split the town with fear and contention?"
"Possibly. Given what he dabbled in, I wouldn't put it past him. But don't underestimate what those who want power will do to keep it. Or increase it." If the rumors are true, Smenk is very interested in power, and not squeamish about how to obtain it.
And Sol is expecting fluffy pillows? Just when I thought these folks were learning...
"Yes, we need to see if the boy's affairs are settled." And I'm not expecting fluffy pillows no matter what. The halfling grimly prepares for whatever remains in the haunted lair.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +2 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
"They're places from back home. In Kaer Maga, Filge would just be an honest business man."
Kaer Maga. Kare Gama. Raka Game.
"Twice born servants? Kaer Maga. Sounds like one hell of a place. Remind me not to vacation there."~
"I'm not sure who to approach to be honest, do you know any wizards?"
Sure. We hang out in the same kinds of establishments all the time.
"I bet Lazare knows someone who could help. I would like to speak with him again soon."
~
"Well, [Alastor] hasn't shown a lot of honesty,"
Unsure as to how she might take what he has to say, Mortimer makes a deliberate attempt not to talk down to Solrisa.
"Have a little perspective, Solrisa. He's a twelve year old Ghost Boy. In life he'd just consider it a bit of harmless fun. As a Ghost it's probably hard for him to remember anything but that state of being. We're a little mischievious and unwise like that when we're that age. He never got the chance to learn otherwise."He considers asking her if she remembers being young and foolish, but immediately decides that it would be a fruitless path on which to tread.
"Yes. Let's see if our safe passage through Ball Hall has been granted at long last."
He joins the others in heading for the Haunted cavern.
You almost recall a name, someone local who might serve the role as arcanist, but it escapes you at the moment. Perhaps your memory will jog with more thought...
The trek back to the Cairn is easy enough, for the fourth time out, as the sun begins its leisurely descent towards the horizon. The evening promises clarity, if not also a bitter drop in temperature.
Entering the cairn proper, the interior provides its wind break, and your eyes make the necessary adjustment to the darkness newly lit by torch. Down the stairs, up the chain, and down the wind tunnel, the group finds its way through the Maw.
The iron spheres sit idly below, the wooden beam invites you to cross it to the awaiting opened door across the room.
Sol looks at the bridge and smiles.
"Oh! I know what's coming next...the balls!!" Sol exclaims cheerfully remembering. "I'll just prepare better this time!"
Sol straps on her shield, preparing to risk herself to get across...unless someone has a better idea.
AC 17, 21 on AoO; 19/19 HP
BAB = +2 (level 2)
ToHit = 1d20+6
RHit = 1d20+6-2
LHit = 1d20+6-2
Fort+3 (+4 vs inhaled and contact poisons, +2 vs. disease)
Reflex+4
Will+1
Initiative+2
CMD = 18, 16 if flat footed
"Oh! I know what's coming next...the balls!!"
Hmmm.
"Yes, I'll go see."
Really wanting to assume that the open beckoning door on the opposite end of the petrified wood boardwalk indicates that the iron ball trap is disarmed, Mortimer nonetheless ties a rope around his waist as a precaution and hands the other end to the party for proper anchoring just in case he should have to pull himself out of the metal sphere filled pit.
He then confidently strides down the boardwalk toward the open door and room beyond.
Ascaria takes the other end of the rope. He looks at Mort's size and hands the rope to Tynan, Rae, or Sol (or all three!) and edges toward the platform so he can see if Mort falls.
"You've got this." he encourages Mort.
Rae coils her arm in the rope as far down as she dares, leaving room for Tynan and/or Sol to do the same.
As Mortimer makes his way onto the beam, then out beyond the trigger point noted before, the firing of the spheres fails to engage. The trap remains quiet for the time being.
The faintest whisper sounds as you finish crossing the room. "thanks..."
As the giant succeeds in staying aloft while crossing the beam, the room... sighs, for lack of a better word. The door is open, as promised. Beyond it, a much larger chamber.
Seeing Mort make his way safely across the beam, Ascaria smiles and, after letting others go ahead of him if they wish, he too proceeds down the beam and into the next room.
"See? The poor little guy is at rest now I should think, and he did as he promised - the door is open! Damn necromancers!"
Sol crosses after Mortimer, holding her shield ready to deflect any balls that shoot her way.
Sol, if she crosses completely, enters the chamber, happily looking for whatever might be there.
Tynan joins the others in the chamber beyond, an scans it, looking for anything out of the ordinary.
"Rest well, Alastor."
"It does seem that way, Ascaria." Rae crosses with the others.
"Damn necromancers!"
"I would think they usually are." Not the kind of power I would ask for if I had to be damned, but then there is no accounting for taste.
When it's her turn, Pillette slings her crossbow snugly against her body, lashing a tie around the stock and looping it tightly through her bandolier. She keeps a free hand on her coil of silk rope, just in case.
Watching Mort cross first, she smiles. "Today, no balls are good balls." Of course, Mort seems to have 'em in spades, but then again, so does the angry one, too.
The chamber that lies beyond is striking for many reasons. A large stone walkway circles a deep chasm that leads into darkness. Four platforms lead from the walkway to a central ring, but two of these platforms are broken. Bright light reminiscent of a summer’s day filters down from the ceiling about forty feet above. Four wide galleries extend from the outer walkway, their far walls covered with enormous bas-relief vistas. A sighing wind emits from a huge pillar of rushing air at the center of the chamber. The column extends from the floor to the ceiling, cutting through the room’s central ring. A closer examination of the column of air shows it passing through a circular opening in the ceiling of the exact diameter as the column.
Ascaria peers off into the fog of his mind and whispers to the group as a whole, "What do you see? The room feels very large, but I cannot see... or hear anything other than a rushing wind."
"Is this another tunnel trap sort of thing?"
Sol looks around, unsure of what to do.
"Ascaria, maybe we should tie a rope to you and toss you over? That might get you there and Rae is pretty good at tossing things...like hay bales," Sol suggests, looking at Rae.
"Rae, remember?! You worked as a baler for what...a few weeks or something before you...came home early? Because the owner's son hit your hand with his face after he made you angry?"
"Ascaria, maybe we should tie a rope to you and toss you over?"
Pillette looks at Sol in surprise and a bit of exasperation. "Ascaria is much too valuable to waste on such dangerous exploration." You would risk one who can call forth the power of the Gods to heal? "He is not a slip."
She'll take a look at the room, looking especially for more unwelcome surprises.