As the rest of the group follows Master Parisos, you find the other tunnel curves away to the left and down an incline. There's an increase in the dampness of the tunnel and when it begins to level out and widen there is a shallow pool of water covering most of the floor, with a narrow path making a rough crescent around it on the right side.
A ripple in the pool attracts attention, as the party's approach seems to have been noticed. A green, slimy layer at the pools bottom begins to move, slowly sending questing pseudopods out from the main mass, which then pull the rest of the slime with them, closing the distance between it and your group.
When he notices, Parisos hits the brakes and tries to back up.
"Did you see that? That slime is moving!"
Broderick unleashes a groan, "Great! Now there is moving toxic mold! Well let's see how it likes a bolt!"
As he lets fire his light crossbow!
And as the bolt ricochets harmlessly off a wall, he curses "Kon-Tao, you seem to know about this sort of stuff!! Do something!" Looking to the crystaline creature for advice.
Kontao looks down at his spear and mutters something about deficiencies and flaws before reaching into his bag and pulling out a glass flask that says "highly imflammable" on the side.
Kon-tao will thn move next to Parisos then. CAn't draw and move just yet.
Parisos frowns as he carefully studies the... whatever it is. He waives a hand in a casual gesture as he casts a cantrip and lobs an Acid Splash at it.
for a possible points of acid damage.
The P'tan furrows her brow, troubled by the sudden stop as the group comes to a halt. "Wait, what is the problem no-," she begins, but is interrupted as Master Parisos explains that something in the water is moving. Shuffling from the back of the group to get a better look, she tries to peer over or around the heads of her fellows. As safety measures are taken and bolts and spells let loose, she follows suit. Tiny arcs of lightning jolt along her hand as Timbre narrows her eyes and flexes her talons, evoking the magic within. The electricity dances along and gathers in a ball of meager energy in the palm and she hurls it at the slime.
Electrical
Jostled by the sudden movement and vibration as the entire known world collided with and came to a sudden halt, pinpoints of consciousness coalesced into something more substantial. Slowly, awareness returned, and in that reunited a liquid memory sliding back in to the waking haziness of confusion. Eyes flew open, adjusting to the ancient darkness of home.
It had awoken.
Carefully at first, the entrance to the magnificent shelter was cracked aside, its occupant peeking out from within. It considered it a shelter purely in apt necessity, the allowance of such small trivialities often the price one must pay on the road to bigger and better things. Its true home, after all, would undoubtedly be more grand than even this already considerable establishment, safe as it were from those who would see it undone. Even so, the current residence tended to be so highly mobile and, barring that, nearly always prone to listening to advice from superiors (success limited, as to be expected) that it would allow such a thing as this inconvenient and sudden awakening to go uncontested.
For now.
Pushing out from beneath the flap of the pack, the thrush took flight, skipping on the air a scant few seconds to rest deftly on top of its new command post, where it would pass judgement on all those before it. From atop the P'tan's head, it surveyed the scene, curious as to what could possibly be so important.
Master Parisos is unsure of this thing's origins. It appears like some sort of slime or algae, but is obviously motile.
His attack hits the thing, the acid spattering across its surface with no apparent effect.
Timbre's attack also hits its mark, the bolt striking with a loud snap, blackening the mass where it strikes. The slime visibly recoils from the attack, flowing around the point at which it was struck to continue slowly towards the group. It emerges from the water some fifteen feet from where Kon Tao stands next to Parisos, a slick green mass some six feet across and about a foot high at its center.
Parisos grimaces. Suspecting it will be useless, he attacks anyway; his staff snapping overhead and down on the slime.
for a possible bludgeoning damaging.
Master Parisos moves up on it and brings his staff down, splattering slime about as he lays into the thing. He notes a rather acrid stench rolling off of it.
Parisos avoids the splash of slime, noting that a glob hitting the hem of his robe eats a hole clean through it, but the fumes make him light-headed and dizzy.
Parisos stumbles back, choking.
"That's... not the way... to fight it... either."
His eyes going wide at the sight of Parisos's robe being consumed, Broderick adopts his standard strategy: stand back and shoot.
Reloading his crossbow, Broderick lets another bolt fly.
(assuming firing into melee, else +4)
"STAND BACK! I AM LIGHTINF HIGHLY VOLATILE FLUIDS IN ORDER TO THERMICALLY DESTABILIZE IT'S MOLECULAR STRUCTURE!"
Touch attack
Fire damage DC15 or be lit on fire. ADjacent targets take 1 fire damage.
Narrowing her eyes and baring fangs as the thing creeps closer, Timbre scowls as it burns away part of Parisos' robe. Readying her shield just in case, and maneuvering to get a better shot, she hurls another blast of lightning."Halt its advance! Light it up!" she growls.
-4 if in melee
Electrical
Master Parisos withdraws from the slime, stumbling back towards the tunnel.
Broderick lets loose another bolt, which slams into the center of the slime's mass. While damaging the thing, it does little to slow down a creature with no vital organs.
Kon-Tao's attack scorches the slime, sending up a foul odor similar to something rotten catching fire. The flames lick along its top, causing it to recoil and alter course, as if looking for a way to avoid the fire eating at it and still reach you.
Timbre lets loose another arc of dark lightning, zapping it and leaving another scorch mark on its mass, then steps back to avoid its advance.
The thing, burning now, redoubles its efforts to reach you, pulling itself along at greater speed, covering enough of the distance to fling a pseudopod at Kon-Tao. The tendril slaps into your crystalline companion and hissing against his stony hide. It attempts to wrap about and hold fast, but he is able to pull free at the last moment.
Round 3_______
Retreating to the back of the party, Parisos glares at the enemy that had the temerity to be immune to his only offensive magic.
Thinking quickly, he mutters; "Let's see if he's immune to fire then...".
He drops his pack, draws a torch and waives a hand over it; casting Prestidigitation (the same as lighting a candle).
The torch starts smoldering...
Kon-Tao withdraws from the slime, falling well back up the passage, favoring his acid-bitten leg.
Parisos, torch now lit, steps forward and presses the torch to the creature.
Standing his ground, (as long as he is not the one in front) reloads and lets another bolt fly!
Broderick's bolt tears through the thing, as Parisos steps forward and thrusts a torch into it, blackening and burning the slime. It recoils, lashing out with another tendril that misses Parisos by the most narrow of margins, droplets of moisture falling on his skin and raising blisters as it passes over his shoulder.
"Maybe someone should call for help?!" Timbre growls out while backing up further. Clutching her hand, she throws another gout of electricity straight at the creature, hoping to drive it back before it gets too close.
The P'tan hunkers behind her shield, hoping to block any wayward attempts from the creature should it charge her.
-4 if in melee.
Electrical
Timbre's blast crackles into the slime, again blackening it and sending ripples through its mass. It sits, shuddering a moment, and then begins to slowly slide back toward the pool.
for a possible bludgeoning damage plus 1 point fire.
"Retreat for now! LEt it burn!" The injured Cynean yells back
"No! Let's kill it! Its's blocking the way!! Broderick cries (from his relatively safe position, and winds his xbow dor another shot, hoping to slay this acidic blob before it reaches the pool.
Master Parisos stubs out his torch in the thing with a sickening hiss. The slime goes still.
Parisos dropped the expended torch with disgust.
He relit his pipe with a gesture and drew in pipesmoke with some relief.
"Well then."
He looks back at his companions.
"Is everyone alright?"
Scoffing indignantly, the creature regarded its magnificent self for several moments before, satisfied, regarding his lessers. "Why, of COURSE I'm okay, after all, I was up here the entire time, safe out of harm's way!" he articulated precisely and with gusto. "Something each of you would do well to take notice of, I'll wager. Being out of harm's way, that is," he corrected. "I say, do be more careful next time."
Then the creature turned his gaze solemnly down to its current command outpost, studying with all the scrutiny of a merchant whom suddenly realizes they just paid for very shoddy worksmanship. "And you... well! the creature scoffed once more, while turning its head to the side and away. If he could have folded his wings cross ways at that very moment, he most certainly would have. "I'll have you know I was in the middle of a most pleasant dream," he rattled off without hesitation, "...one that I shant return to in all likelihood. A pity. I'll give you this one, but next time there will be wrath. Expect no less!"
Unbudging in his promise, the thrush continued his ceremonious stand atop the P'tan's head, chest puffed out in confidence.
Timbre merely rolled her eyes in slight agitation, and waved a hand dismissively at the bird atop her head, paying it little heed.
Gathering her breath and assessing the situation with calculating, feline eyes, the P'tan hesitantly relaxed as the creature retreated, their brief respite evident for now. "Yes. I have taken no injuries, though that is less than I can say for our compatriot there," she emphasized, indicating the large crystalline fellow. "Had there been more of those...things... I doubt we'd have any recourse but to make haste away. It is fortuitous that it met its end when it did," she continued while giving the pool an apprehensive look. Still regarding the water and the slime with distrust, she offered offhandedly, "..perhaps I can do something about his wounds. And yours."
Master Parisos expelled some pipesmoke in a ring that floated contentedly through the air.
"By all means. Do you think you will be able to continue?" He asked the large rock man with concern.
"I say we press on!" As Broderick intrudes into the conversation, "Let us see how far this plot continues... Adjusting his analyzer and reloading the crossbow.
The water appears to be about 3 feet at its deepest, with small streamlets leading off through small passages or into cracks in the floor. There's footing to walk around it. The passages off here seem to lead deeper into the earth.
Once everyone is fit to proceed, Master Parisos will skirt the puddle and proceed down the passage.
"Hrmmg...," the P'tan grumbled, still eyeing the water with distrust. "I say we stay on the main path, but something isn't right about this place. Why would a creature like that manage itself all the way into the archive? There's not anything in there for it to eat." Scowling in thought, her countenance quite fearsome by nature of her race, she pauses a moment. "I've a bad feeling. Abram believes the other fellow left, but I fear the truth maybe be something more grim. By the Kaga, I hope I'm wrong," she adds, shaking her head at the idea.
"Timbre, can you aid Kon-Tao? He does not look well." Asked Parisos thoughtfully, smoke trailing from his lips.
Placing a head upon rock man's shoulder, she calls upon the power of the Kaga, channeling its omniscient energy.
healed.
Continuing forward into the darkness, Broderick whispers back "It looks like everything is explained, except for our missing librarian."
Following Broderick, Parisos' face lit up red from the coals as he drew on his pipe.
"I feel the answers lay ahead of us." He answered, his face falling into darkness again as smoke trickled from his lips.
Kon-Tao presses forward limping slightly.
The group follows the navigable passage, noting its downward slope as it gently winds through the earth. After a time it widens again into another cavern, the ceiling dripping with stalactites. The cavern is amazingly free of debris--no organic material clutters the floor, fungi, animal, or otherwise--but the as the group searches the area they find small alcoves, ledges, and tunnels on the walls that show signs of former life.
Within these areas, usually above shoulder level on most of you, are remains of nests made of shredded, dry fungi for the most part. More of the strange, needle-toothed and bug-eyed rodents are here as well. At least, their remains are here. The amount of death suggests an extermination. No remains or nests are below this level, but then the ooze could well account for that.
The only other thing you find is a heavy silver ring, polished to a high sheen, on the floor. It bears a heraldic device on its face.
Parisos looks around at the new cavern.
"Hmpf. This cavern is... oddly clean."
Noticing the ring, Parisos approaches and picks it up to examine more closely.
He also casts Detect Magic.
Peering into the darkness, Broderick searches for any more cave openings.
"If that could be the aide's... then what was he doing down here?? It's not like the rats abducted him... could he possibly have been using this to smuggle documents out?"
Broderick notes three other passages exiting the room. All trail off into darkness, and no one passage seems more notable than the others.
Master Parisos thoughtfully smoked as he examined the silver ring.
"Interesting. This insignia appears to be of the Order of the Scribes; a lay sect of the Order of the Kaga devoted to the collection and preservation of knowledge. As I recall, all of the archivists I have seen on the grounds are members of the order."
He looked around curiously.
"But where is the man who wore it?"
He looked around myopically.
"It seems unlikely he would simply take it off and drop it."
"I fear the worst," the P'tan began, breathing a grumbling sigh. "It's clear...the ooze must have been responsible for the scribe's disappearance...and the lack of a body, considering this place is swept barren."
After a few moments, as if in thought, she added, "..but wouldn't there be some bones?"