Hollow's Last Hope (Inactive)

Game Master nilesr

Gared you make it to the door of the hut unscathed. The door is closed.

Lucanor gives his review on the items, "If they had magic... it's probably gone, but don't quote me on that. " Lucanor also approaches, and knocks.

Your knock is louder than you thought and it seems to boom throughout the clearing.A few seconds later you hear from within

Yes, my pretties. Yes, Yes pretty creatures. Come in Come in.

The voice sounds hideous, as if Baba Yaga herself had cackled it out.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

"Sounds like someone might be rearranging things inside."

"Well she's home, shall we go in?"

Edit: I think Silas will be cautious as he enters!
Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18

"Moving yes, but who knows what kind of stuff she is even moving?"

To make less of an impression than he already does with his height, Hecktor retracts the blade of his scythe.

Lucanor nods to Silas, and goes in as well.

Perception for trouble INside.. 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

Percival removes his hat politely and enters as well.

Lucanor and Silas you walk into the cottage and see

The cottage is dank, reeking, and
filled with shadows. Haphazardly hung
shelves line the walls, covered in all manner
of clay jugs, clouded bottles, strangely
cut rocks, rotted bunches of herbs, and a
museum of other crude curios and remnants
of a bone grinder’s artifice. A rusted
iron cauldron, with a mouth nearly 5 feet
wide and a depth of at least 3 feet, dominates
the hut’s single room, its ash-covered
surface shaped with a relief of capering
fiends and leering devils. Across from the
door, against the far walls, stands a high-backed
chair made of wicker, the gigantic
curved tusks of some monstrous beast, and
thousands of human teeth. In the chair
sits what looks like a corpse wrapped in
filthy burial linens, its form padded with
pungent herbs and sprouting patches of
thick white mold.

The hut is not lit, there are no windows so the only light comes from the open doorway, and its late afternoon so the light is dying.

Well that sure sounds promising......let's not piss her off :) .

Craft alchemy to identify the bottles and substances: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Percival hesitantly stumbles into the room before having his eye caught by the shelves and their contents. "I say..." he mutters with interest, walking over to examine them carefully.

"A little light on the subject, if you would.." he whispers quietly as he casts a light spell on the tip of his longsword and holds it up.

"Careful, Doc."

Michael dismounts and ties his horse to a tree at the edge of the clearing. The horse is obviously not fond of its current situation, and immediately retreats as far as the rope allows. Michael walks back to the horse, pats her neck, and tries his best to soothe her, and possibly himself at the same time.

"Calm down, Adrienne. They're just stories, that's all. Nothing to be afraid of, right? Just stories..."

Having tried his best to calm the horse, he slowly and cautiously approaches the hut but doesn't enter behind the others. Keeping his hand near his hammer's haft he remains wary. With more than a hint of fear and anxiety in his voice he tells the rest of the group:

"You guys let me know if you need help. I'll, uh... I'll stay out here and keep an eye on things. Watch our backs, you know. I'm not exactly... Nevermind..."

Spooky place, I wonder is that corpse for show? If it were to start 'speaking' that would certainly frighten any locals brave enough to enter...

Now that Iomedae has been kind enough to send some light, Silas has a discrete look see Perception to spot somebody hidden: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

If Silas spotted somebody, he'll face them instead of the corpse.
Silas clears his throat and in a warm clear voice he calls out, "Good Afternoon ma'am, thank you for seeing us. No doubt you're wondering why we came, we're looking to trade for a pickled herb called rats tail. We need enough to cure oh about half of Falcon's hollow. The Blackscour taint is back again..."

I'll hold off on the diplomacy checks until I have somebody I can see.

Gared stands with the others, a little bemused by the scene inside the Hut. It would appear the stories were correct. Both the corpse and the general surroundings set him on edge.

Silas you notice that the "body" is nothing more than another fetish crafted from sticks, leaves, moss and bones. It does have a peculiar looking amulet .

Percival the jars contain various alchemical and mystical flora and fauna in various states of decay and preservation. Did you touch anything?

Lucanor your light spell will raise the light level in the 15X15 room to bright light.

I did not.

A hint of amusement creeps into Silas's voice when he says, "You've gone to a lot of effort here ma'am", Silas indicates the 'corpse', "at first glance it looks really quite authentic, and that shrunken head amulet is a nice touch... Anyway like I said, we're here to trade, if not coin perhaps a service?"

Silas, your entreaties are met with the cold silence of death.

"Is she hiding? I get the feeling all this is meant to scare away the townsfolk. Ma'am! we're not infected and don't intend any harm please come and talk to us!"

I'm sure she has something to hide, and is (perhaps rightfully) fearful of strangers.
"Ma'am we're not with the consortium, Laurel sent us. You'll remember her grandmother I'm sure."

It sounded like she was moving heavy furniture, are there any marks on the ground?
Perception: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Silas near the center of the room the cauldron looks like its been moved recently. If you try to move it, it weighs about 600lbs.

Silas bends down and examines some deep scratches on the floor, "Lucanor, look at these scratches on the floor, perhaps the scraping noise we heard was the cauldron? I bet this thing is seriously heavy - whoever moved it was very strong. Maybe it's covering something..."

Not sure what to do here, we could attempt to move it - might be risky, who knows what is inside. Also it's somewhat aggressive to do so, I'm not sure we have cause to ransack the place just yet!

"Any magic about? I don't have that particular prayer ready."

Sheepishly Silas admits, "Yeah I'm regretting skipping that class, it seemed a good idea at the time! Alisha was such good company... Ahem, Sorry! Can't help there"

Silas seems to have gone a little red.

Lucanor smiles JUST a little bit, but says nothing of it.

The air in the cottage chills just a little bit. A slight breeze wafts in from the doorway bringing with it a hint of something foul.

I'm assuming Michael is still outside, please correct me if I'm wrong.

"Hey Michael, is everything OK out there? Theres something nasty wafting in!"

I'll answer for Michael.

Michael walks surreptitiously to the doorway and says in a low voice.

Stop all that shouting! I can't smell anything untoward

As Michael turns to leave he bumps the partially opened door. From behind you hear

Yes, my pretties. Yes, Yes pretty creatures. Come in Come in

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 17

As Hecktor is listening where the sound is coming from, his attention is drawn towards a strange amulet sort of fetish.

Hell, that's one of the nastiest baubles i've ever seen.

If in the unlikely case everybody else fails the save, Hecktor tells the others to get where he is to look at the amulet.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Gared quickly grips his greataxe at the sound the amulet makes and swings it out in front of him, holding it ready against any threats.

"This is looking more and more like a trap," he whispers to the others. "How do you suppose that cauldron was moved when it looks so heavy? Something isn't right here."

Sounding a little irritated Silas agrees, "Yes it sure looks that way, my guess is the cauldron is covering a trap door, perhaps moved by a pulley. Presumably our 'host' is underneath, I can't see anywhere else she could be hiding in a hut this small... That uh amulet is getting pretty annoying, I'm tempted to chuck it in the cauldron to shut it up!"

Perception to spot any evidence of a trapdoor or pulley: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (5) + 9 = 14

"That amulet is three shades of unnerving, that is," Lucanor admits as he realizes where the sound came from. "I don't suppose you answer questions?" He asks the amulet

Silas you do not see a trapdoor or pulley under the cauldron.

"You know guys, something feels off. More than just the interior. The fetish is talking, something moved before we came in. The only big and heavy enough thing that could make such a noise would be that couldron, but there's no sign of the witch....heh, unless it moved by itself."

The last line was said quasy jokingly.....

"Now now gentlemen, I'm sure there is a perfectly logical explanation..."

Percival turns to the amulet. "Good day; my name is Percival Lawson, Chirurgeon."

Listening in on all the chatter, Michael grows more uneasy. All those stories that frightened him as a child seem to have more than just a hint of truth to them at this point.

"You know, guys, I'm starting to feel really good about my decision to stay outside at this point. I'm thinking Adrienne had the right idea in wanting to high-tail it out of here. If we didn't have a reason to be here, I'd sure be leaving as fast as I could if I ever stumbled across this place. Gives me the willies..."

Michael, you don't need them, you already have one. X)

"Dr Lawson, would you recognise picked rats tail if you saw it? Is there any here?", asks Silas, "Given these theatrics it seems this Uzmelia is not in a reasnoble mood, we may need to search elsewhere if there's none here..."

"Let me see..."

Craft: Alchemy 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28

Michael grows increasingly uneasy as time passes.

"Can you guys just hurry up? I'd really, really like to get out of here, and I'd prefer to make tonight's camp as far away from here as possible..."

Silas is quiet for a while as he thinks furiously, "Ulizmelia was said to be old in Laurel's grandmother's day, and Laurel is no spring chicken herself! Surely she died years ago and what's left here are echoes, unreasonable spooky echoes...

Silas' bravado is starting to ware off and he looks a little scared.

Perception for evidence of anyone living here, e.g.food or tracks in the dust other than ours (if there is dust): 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19

Percival your positive given enough time you can find the herb required here in the hut, the selection is quite extensive. Do you take the time to begin checking shelves and labels?

Silas you find no evidence of anyone living here recently, only odd scrapes on the floor like the furniture was moving itself.

"Take it easy there, folks, and be patient, the Doc's on finding what we need." Lucanor keeps watch over Percival and Silas.

"If you need anymore light Doctor,
just ask, I too know how to conjure up a modest torch…"

I do.

Percival begins his search of the premises. After a few minutes of looking he exclaims Got it! and holds up a vial in triumph!

At the same moment the cauldron springs to life and attempts to bite Percival!

Anyone with a 15 or higher on perception can act in the surprise round, you guys aren't taken completely by surprise.

Surprise Round!
Initiative Order
Animated Cauldron bites at Percival who is flat footed! Luckily Percival manages to dodge away from its gaping maw.
Michael can perform one action
Gared
Silas*
Lucanor* can perform one action
Hecktor* can perform one action
Percival

Cauldron Bite: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12 damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (3) + 3 = 6

COMBAT MAP

Niles, am i teleported outside? Last time i know of i was inside. Also, can the oversized teapot be tripped?...

Edit: I don't particularly mind in this case, Lawson's suggestion is healthy common sense.

Perception: 1d20 ⇒ 18

"Fire and saltpere!"

Dodging away from the cauldron's teeth, Percival turns and runs. "Let us take this outside, gentlemen!"

Retreat, fleeing outside.

Michael hears the cauldron moving and Percival's surprised shouting. He peeks inside to see that the cauldron has actually come to life and is trying to attack.

"You said you've got it? Then let's get the hell out of here!"

Michael then steps clear of the doorway and readies his weapon in case the cauldron follows the group outside.

I'm taking a 5-foot step to the left to clear the doorway, drawing my weapon as my move action, and readying an attack if the cauldron comes outside the door.

"Sounds like common sense he's spouting and we're doing. You sure we're adventurer material??" Despite his dry jest, Lucanor backs away steadily as long as it doesn't get in anyone else's way.

Withdraw action again it seems?