Its "A" Dungeon (Inactive)

Game Master Terquem

Can't hit him and well, I am going to be visible in a moment. Figured I'd at least tell you what I saw.

Ballar, apparently caught day dreaming about hookers and blackjack is startled by Teirist's sudden disappearance from the group and is only brought back to reality by the sound of his voice, Hmmm! A wha? Pulling out his script, the dwarf scans for his next line...Seem to 'ave lost me place 'ere...

Reminder for the quasi-fighter type, Mage Armor is still active

You Mage Armor'd me? Sweet!

Day 6, turn 70 (approximate time of day, 11:30 am) (turn 4 of 6)

When Teirist speaks, the creature above the door looks around frantically, turning its shaggy head left and right, and then leaps down onto the floor, and screams

Morlock Initiative: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Teirist has used one round of the three he will be invisible. Round one will begin now

init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11

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Init: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12

Init-ta-winit: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
The Morlock's scream startles Ballar. In a knee jerk reaction the cleric raises his hands to protect himself and unexpectedly sends a small orb of acid hurtling from his robe towards the creature, Gha! Surprising himself, Ballar quickly recovers then tries to figure out just how that happened, Oi 'ang on! Was tha... pointing his arm at the creature he begins posing his hand in various spider-man web slinging gestures.
Dropping Acid on the Morlock: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Potential Dmg: 1d3 ⇒ 1

SA casts ACID SPLACH vs. Morlock | Yup, Mage armor was cast on Day 6, turn 68 (approximate time of day, 11:10 am) so it'll be active for another 40 min.

Day 6, turn 70 (approximate time of day, 11:30 am) (turn 4 of 6)

Berenwyr’s initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

Round 1...

Ballar manages to land a small blob of acid on the creatures back and it howls in pain, spins around and leaps at Jim, landing right in front of the surprised monk

Melee Claw at Jim: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

But Jim is saved by a combination of his quick wits and magical armor

"Teirist! You're back! And you have claws!"
Jim says as he takes a swing or two at apparently the mad butcher. Actually the Morlock, in case that isn't clear.
I: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26, Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Flail: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9, Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
iConfirm: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21, Damage: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Ack! Berenwyr is somewhat nonplussed by the sudden appearance of a clawed, better-looking Teirist, and reflexively slashes at it with his longsword.

1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Missing horribly, Berenwyr stops to wonder exactly what the creature might be.

kn(nature): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (6) + 8 = 14

Day 6, turn 70 (approximate time of day, 11:30 am) (turn 4 of 6)

Round 1, continued

After the monster claws ineffectively at Jim, the Monk returns the attention with two quick blows with his flail to the monster’s head. The weapon strikes the monster squarely between the eyes, knocking its head back so far that the second blow misses completely.

Berenwyr just happens to take a swing at that same moment, his sword passing over the top of the monster’s head as it is knocked backward by Jim.

Seeing the monster’s unusual flexibility, Berenwyr has a moment of insight

Round 2 starts now, with Ballar up first

How did I not get a turn?

Gah, I missed that. Take your action please. Also, does the spell work like other Invisibility spells? Teirist gets major benefits from being Invisible, but does he become visible once he attacks?

Trying to compose himself, Ballar brandishes his Dorn, but the sudden appearance of this creature leaves him temporarily stunned. Taking up a defensive cower, Ballar tosses the heavy iron ball at the monster hoping to hit it.
On Second thought...: 1d20 + 3 - 4 ⇒ (5) + 3 - 4 = 4

MA to unfurl the Dorn-dergar | SA Fighting Defensively (-4 Att, +2 AC) AC now 19 | Jim's Mage Armor still shimmering

Teirist moves up, swinging his sword, slicing at the creature

One Attack, Flank with Ballar: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 6 + 2 = 13
Damage, if hits: 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5
Sneak Damage: 2d6 ⇒ (4, 4) = 8

Yes, vanish works like other invisibility spells, Morlock loses its Dex to AC against Teirist, and Teirist gets an additional +2 to his attack roll.

Hey! That's not Teirist! That's a Morlock! Keep hitting it!

Day 6, turn 70 (approximate time of day, 11:30 am) (turn 4 of 6)

Teirist sneaks up behind the Morlock. A quick swipe of his blade, in the fashion of an expert butcher, and the monster is dead.

Suddenly the monster stiffens in front of Jim, and topples forward as Teirist appears out of thin air standing behind the dead monster.

end of combat

Teirist takes a moment to flex in front of the group then searches the body for anything useful.

"You thought he was me? How un...smart." Teirist says with a snicker.

Berenwyr shrugs. It was an honest mistake. The hair and the smell, really, are you sure you're not related?

"We should keep him around for target practice." Jim says with deliberate ambiguity.

Unsure if there is anything else about to pop out of the walls, Ballar's eyes shift nervously, 'Sat-it? He's gone? Seeing all is in the clear, the dwarf clears his throat and resumes his normal posture, Ha! Well tha was a wee bit ghastly eh? Well done then Teirist!
Gathering up his chain, 'Er find anything?

Berenwyr points at the small pile of sacks on the floor in the northeast corner of the room. What about those? Might be something in there.

"Might be, wanna go check?" Teirist asks with a smirk.

Berenwyr casts detect magic and examines the sacks from the doorway.

perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (16) + 10 = 26
kn(arcana): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (3) + 10 = 13

Jim looks for traps that might be lying in wait.
Intuition: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9
"Seems safe to me."

Teirist leans against the wall, cleaning his fingernails with a knife that seems to be as much a part of him as nachos are for Ballar.

Snickers echo from the corner as Berenwyr stoops to examine small leather sacks.
Intuition: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (4) + 9 = 13

Teirist glances at the corner.

Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Berenwyr casts detect magic and examines the sacks from the doorway.

The wizard shakes his head. I'm surrounded by children, murderous, lunatic children.

"We all have one goal, or maybe two. Get you killed and eat more nachos. Yeah..that's two." Teirist says.

"I'm in it for the women."

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The familiar crumpling sound of a bag of nachos opening fills the room, Cheers Teirist! The dwarf offers a few to those with the munchies.

"Nachos!"

They are delicious Berenwyr mumbles as he stuffs the delicious chips into his face. Too bad the only woman we've met so far was a murderous sex-bot, although, now that I think on it, that's really not so bad...

"Wasn't there a cleric? Like Ballar, but a bit more... eh, well not as much... um... well, a woman?"

Teirist stops eating a chip to think for a moment.

"Come to think of it, better than being killed by that mouther...just sayin, there are worse ways to go than murdered by a sex bot." he says then continues munching on nachos.

"Yeah, we had a lady cleric, nice, less beardy than Ballar, but also less nachos. She also didn't like you to sit on the ground. In fact, quite mean about you getting dirty. We are in a dungeon, killing things, dirt is the least of our worries, amirite?"

Oh yeah! I remember her. She was really uptight about porno too, and she never would have let me keep that excellent sandwich wrapper...

Day 6, turn 71 (approximate time of day, 11:30 am) (turn 5 of 6)

No magic, trap, or trick of any kind is discovered on the five sacks lying in the corner of the room.

Opening one of the sacks, it reveals that it is filled with small bottles, and each bottle has a small paper tag tied to the stopper of the bottle with string. The tags have cryptic information written on them, such as “Orange Oil,” “Peppermint Oil,” “Oil of Turmeric,” and “Blue-Green Sea Cow Oil.” Each bottle holds less than half an once of a murky, thick liquid.

kn(local): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (7) + 8 = 15

Berenwyr checks out the sacks.

Speaking of ladies, these are some valuable body oils. We could probably get 750 golden simoleons for the set out of some wealthy dowager, or some merchant who caters to wealthy dowagers. I hope It Du'Pree doesn't curse us for taking her moisturizer.

"A dry skinned lich...isn't that sorta part of the charm?'

With a mouthful of nachos, Ballar picks up one of the vials, ignores the colorful paper tag, shakes the liquid inside then watches intently as the little tiny bubbles float up to the top.
Knowledge Local: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Giggling quietly to himself he puts the vial back.

The beeping sound of a digital watch forces Ballar to forget the amusing vials of liquid. Lifting his sleeve, he fumbles for a moment - trying to push a tiny button on what looks like an odd looking box strapped to his wrist. His stubby fingers make this simple task difficult for him but he at last manages to silence the annoying noise. Looking pleased, the dwarf takes out a well worn leather bound book with the letters P.R.D. inscribed upon it. Thumbing through its many pages, he pauses to read the odd paragraph before flipping to another page as though checking the meaning of one thing or another. A few moments later, Ballar at last closes the book and puts it away. Looking up, one can almost tell that he's changed somehow, but only slightly. A little wiser perhaps? Suddenly the dwarf belches thus removing any doubt of his maturity. Oh! Pard'n me.

Where to next? Do we need to make any rolls?

Berenwyr seems to go into a fugue state for a moment, staring off at nothing, ears wilting like abandoned hot-house flowers before he comes to and gives a little giggle. Eeep, my brain expanded! It tickles! His fingers dance and snap, and he makes a series of little hops before he settles down. Oooh, I know what would be fun! Let's go down those stairs where we met Jacquelyn and see whats on the next floor!

"I think the elf had a stroke."

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Looking quizzically at the wizard then back at his bag of nachos, Ballar slowly crumples the bag shut. Perhaps he's 'ad enough o'tha cheese flavor'd...Oi! did ya say Jac'lyn? Now ya talk'n, lets go!

Tierist shrugs and heads off toward the door down.

Level 5!...I need a new map

Berenwyr sidles up next to Ballar. Got any hollerpeeno? I find myself struck by a craving...

Ballar eyes the wizard and an evil grin grows beneath his thick red beard. 'Ang on, Rummaging in his pack the dwarf retrieves a small bottle of dark crimson powder. A worn label depicts a crude drawing of what looks like a seed pod next to several other symbols representing a lit torch, a humanoid head suffering some sort of alchemical corrosion and a skull and cross bones. Opening up his bag of nachos, Ballar carefully removes the cork from the bottle and sprinkles a few grains of powder into the bag. Grinning mischievously, A litt'l goes a'long way.
He replaces the cork, returns the small bottle to its place and begins to shake the bag of nachos. Reopening the bag, a faint cloud of the crimson dust gently erupts filling the immediate area with the strong smell of pure Capsicum. This small cloud immediately assaults the senses (5ft range).

Fort save DC 15 just for smelling them. Failure results in excessive tearing up of the eyes and a burning sensation of your nose until you move 5ft back :P
FoRt Save vs. spicy Nacho cloud: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

Offering the bag to Berenwyr the dwarf cautions,Careful not ta lick ya fing'rs af'twords.

Consuming the nachos is a DC 29 Fort save or suffer execessive tearing of the eyes, a running nose and an intense burning sensation of the mouth preventing speech for 1d4 rounds. For every three cups of water consumed, recovery is reduces by 1 round. PCs licking their fingers after eating these nachos must make another save of DC 29 or suffer the same symptoms plus the loss of using their fingers for the same amount of time. Care to take a handful?

Fort: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Oooh! Chemical reagents, those are always good for a laugh! Berenwyr manages to avoid inhaling the cloud and pops a nacho into his mouth. I never lick my fingers, he states as he chews. Gloves, y'see?

Fort: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Hoo, gettin' hot! Sweat streams down Berenwyr's face, and his mask is immediately stained by the tears and snot running from his eyes and nose, respectively. He dances about, rubbing at his tongue with the cloth of his mask for 2d4 ⇒ (2, 3) = 5 a good half a minute.