
![]() |

The Tengu looks all about. Why are you lokng us in? What have you awoken?
"We ain't awoken nothin' that we ain't also put back ta'sleep." He pauses, looking around, "Well, that we know 'bout. And there ain't no way we're givin' you equipment. You're lucky you're breathin'."
Once awoken, Mors seems ready to press on. After a half-ass gear check, he stretches and draws out his blade. "So, which way? Back into that big statue room and pick a direction? I reckon we go east. Ain't tried that direction yet."

![]() |

How am I to protect myself if I go with you then?

![]() |

"Fine. We'll lock you back up, then."
And when the team heads out, that's the first thing they do ... lock the TEngu back up in the room in which he spent the previous day (though after a thorough search of the room to make sure no baddies got in there while we slept).

![]() |

Without remorse the group locks the Tengu back into the room he was previously in once again. The Tengu struggles and yells. Why are you doing this. Just let me go! He wiggle against their grip though it is of little use.[/b]
Continuing down the hallway they see that it continues on a bit further. In a small alcove lies a suit of elaborate lacquered armor that stands sentinel against the far eastern wall of the octangonal chamber. Silver chainsattached to the armors neck and chest run across the floor of the room, their ends clutched in the bony hand of a skeleton sprawled on the floor ten feet away.
Slong with the elaborate armor, which can be used as a MWK Banded Mail, there is also a MWK Bastard sword lying nearby as well as two curved daggers beneath the skeleton.

![]() |

Does resting do anything for Thad's Charisma damage?
Kn(Local: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (12) + 7 + (3) = 22
"Hmm... Interesting. the men of Iridian Fold wear this. The fellow holding the chains would have been wrapped in veils, before time ate them away."
Perception/traps: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19
I'm sure others could put that other gear to better use, but Thaddeus will take one of the daggers.

![]() |

Yes, if you had any ability score damage you recover 1 damage for the 8 hours of rest.
@Zakon- You locked the Tengu back in the room.
Looking over the room Thaddeus does not notice any sort of traps and grabs one of the curved daggers beneath the skeleton for later use.

![]() |

Zerika says, "Short pointy bad. Too close. Get hit more. Me teach you fight. Pillar one of fight: Don't miss. Pillar 2: Hit hard. Pillar 3: Don't get hit. You follow three rule, never lose."
Zerika casts 'detect magic' to check the small pointy dagger.

![]() |

Zerika does not detect that the dagger is magical in any way.

![]() |

Mors barks out a laugh at Zerika's combat instruction. "That's about right."
He gives the armor and weapons a critical look, then shugs, tapping the blade of his sword to his armor's chest-plate. "I got I need. And I know where it's been. Nothin' like puttin' on ancient armor that's been rottin' around undead for who knows how long."
He gives the room a quick look, "It might sell for a pretty copper, but I don't fancy luggin' it around while we're here. When we're done, we can come back by and pack it up."
The half-orc thug seems ready to move on.

![]() |

As mors taps the tip of his sword against the armor he feels he should hear a hollow ring of metal but yet he doesn't. Almost instantly thousands of flesh eating cockroaches boil forth from the suit of armor from the neck, wrists and ankles. This must be what finished off the two men in the room leaving barely a skeleton's remains behind.
Zakon: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Mors: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Thaddeus: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
Zerika: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22
Carson: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20
Flesh Eating Cockroach swarm: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9
Round 1
Zerika
Carson
Zakon
-----------------------------------------
Flesh eating cockroack swarm
-----------------------------------------
Round 1
Mors
Thaddeus

![]() |

"La cucaracha!", shrikes Carson, grabbing a vial of acid and a vial of fire. "Here!", he tells Zerika, handing her the acid and Zakon the alchemist's fire.
Move action to pull out a pair of vials, so they can spend their turns burning bugs!

![]() |

@Zerika- DemoMaster has been gone for awhile
Carson hands vials to Zerika and Zakon. Zakon hurls his directly at the swarm of roaches. The fire bursts all around them as they begin to hiss.
Round 1
Zerika
Carson
Zakon
-----------------------------------------
Flesh eating cockroack swarm (-5 hp)
-----------------------------------------
Round 1
Mors
Thaddeus

![]() |

Zerika- You are up. If no post I will bot to move forward tonight.

![]() |

Zerika hurls the vial of acid at the swarm of roaches.
Acid Flask: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6
The acid begins to melt the hissing roaches as they swarm all over Zerika and Zakon.
Swarm Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 2
DC 14 Fort save from Zerika and Zakon or you are Nauseated for 1 round
Round 2
Zerika (14/16)
Carson
Zakon (8/10)
-----------------------------------------
Flesh eating cockroack swarm (-14 hp- on fire)
-----------------------------------------
Round 1
Mors
Thaddeus

![]() |

More steps into the corner, looking to get a clear throwing lane, then draws his own acid flask and hurls it at the bugs.
"Thadd, you may wanna get scarce in case this don't take care of'em."
ranged touch attack: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
damage: 1d6 ⇒ 6; +1/2 against swarms.

![]() |

Zakon Alchemists Fire 2nd Round: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Zakon's alchemist's fire continues to burn as Mors hurls another acid flask of acid at the creatures. The small pool of acid and fire seems to be enough to cause the small creatures to scatter in every direction and dissipate.
Combat Over

![]() |

"Well, that was an unwelcome distraction." Despite his words, the tiefling takes a moment to collect a few of the more intact roaches in a specimen jar. Looking down the hall at Zakon, he asks, "North, was it?"

![]() |

"You're tellin' me," Mors grunts as he dusts his hand off on his armored leg. Then he picks up and shakes the armor out, making sure no bugs remain. "No way we're leavin' this lyin' around after that."
Once the armor is squared away and ready to be hauled off later, he grunts, "North sounds good."

![]() |

Thaddeus moves to the door on the left, setting to work with his tools.
Perception/traps: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (3) + 8 = 11
Disable Device: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (1) + 10 = 11

![]() |

Double Doors open onto a long oval-shaped room. Floating balls of fire illuminate walls covered with a bewildering array of runes, sigils and glyphs. Beneath these carvings, stacks of engraved stone tablets rest in recessed niches in the walls. Stones with strange carvings lie all about the room. The carvings seem to be in an ancient language.
Writing is in Thassalion or need a DC 30 Linguistics or comprehend language spell.

![]() |

Mors looks stupified, "What the .... ?" Then he gives the ominous room a suspicious glare, looking for threats. "Looks promising."
Perception: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
"So, I go first and you guys can drag me back if I get smote or somethin'?"

![]() |

Linguistics: 1d20 + 7 + 1d6 ⇒ (5) + 7 + (6) = 18 Meh. DC30 was a long shot anyway.
Thaddeus, distracted by the ancient runes, nods absentmindedly to Mors. "Fascinating... I don't recognize this language at all."

![]() |

"I wonder if the Pharasmin are aware of all this stuff... seems weird to have so much non Pharasmy things here."
At Mors request, he smiles. "But of course! Never leave a man behind, although what did you do to deserve being smote?", he grins.

![]() |

A thorough search of the room reveals three of the stone tablets are in fact magical scrolls. One contains a scroll of hold portal and identify. The other two scrolls contain remove disease and shatter. Each of the scrolls weigh 5 pounds each.
Looking around the room Mors sees that one of the symbols on the wall seems to be a little different from the rest. Upon closer inspection of the glyph it looks as if it can be detached from the wall.

![]() |

The glyph itself does not radiate any magic

![]() |

"Hmm....." The tiefling hums to himself as he examines the glyph and the surrounding area, searching for traps that most certainly lie in wait.
Perception-traps: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Disable Device: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (12) + 10 = 22

![]() |

Thaddeus does not believe the glyph to be trapped in any way.

![]() |

Not knowing what else to do, Mors sets down the bag in his off-hand, then grimaces as he reaches out to fiddle with the glyph (and detach it from the wall if nothing immediate happens).
'Welp ... hold onto yer butts."

![]() |

Hehehe Carson.
After Mors spent an eternity debating to grab the glyph he finally does, placing it in his bag. Nothing immediate happens.