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While you descend down the staircase, it seems that no one is following you. At least for now. Broad steps are covered in layers of dust, almost like drifts of snow. The air is not musty, though. In fact, you can feel the air slowly flowing around you, which would indicate that somewhere in front of you there is an opening that leads to the surface, or at least some space open enough to create circulation.
Marble steps are wide enough that three of you can walk side by side and the ceiling is tall enough that even Alan and Lantesh can walk without bending.
Staircase is 40 steps long, each step being 2 feet wide. At the bottom of the staircase, an even wider and taller corridor leads straight forwards into darkness...
Flinching slightly from the rusty blades Lantesh will take the lead with whoever wants to be in the front with him. Before starting, he breathes in the smells of the underground area.
[ooc]Edited for the dex check.[/dice]
Anwyn is silent as she marvels at the ancient construction of this long lost ruin. Seeing her bodyguard Lantesh advance to the front of the group, she stays back in the middle close to Alan, her eyes watching for any signs of threat.
If it takes a check, I think the closest thing I have would be Knowledge: nature. +2/4 if her Erethor/Caraheen bonuses count.
Blinking at the constant changes between light and dark Eadfaas tried to stay out of the way of the others passing by. Once they had passed him, he fell in quietly behind the group, one hand wrapped around a stone tucked into his pocket.
Yardiff Bey confidently takes the lead, seemingly finally in his element. His head swiveling from side to side, up and down he takes in all that he sees, searching, searching.
Reaching the end of the stairs he pauses, looking up then down and holding his hand up in the universal signal : STOP!
Crouching, he begins a careful examination of the stonework joining the stairs with the room beyond.
Beautiful craftsmanship, whomever created this really knew their craft ! And they didn't want the unwary to gain entrance easily!
Disable Device
She allows the more warrior looking individuals to move pass her so to be more centred in the group. As Yardiff suddenly stops at the base of the stairs she looks about more carefully, spotting the holes in ceiling above and in floor below. Therudrim speaks softly in jungle tongue, "Holes in floor and ceiling. Might be a trap.". While Yardiff tries to disarm the possible trap, she admires the ancient detail of the room before her.
Speaking in jungle tongue, "Can someone rid these manacles from my arms. They preventing me from helping you.", lifting up her hands to show off the manacles.
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Yardiff Bey confidently takes the lead, seemingly finally in his element. His head swiveling from side to side, up and down he takes in all that he sees, searching, searching.
Reaching the end of the stairs he pauses, looking up then down and holding his hand up in the universal signal : STOP!
Crouching, he begins a careful examination of the stonework joining the stairs with the room beyond.
Beautiful craftsmanship, whomever created this really knew their craft ! And they didn't want the unwary to gain entrance easily!
Disable Device 1d20+9
Yardiff quickly finds a loose tiles and managing to lift it gently, he disarms the trigger mechanism, which is announced by a loud clicking sound.
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As you continue down the corridor, you can see that the rest of the ancient building is not in the same shape as the marble staircase. About forty yards after the plates with tiny holes in the floor and in the ceiling, you can see that the ceiling and walls have collapsed, opening a jagged passageway in the right wall. The passageway looks as if hacked from the living stone by some primitive tools, standing in sharp contrast to the beautiful workmanship of the stairs and the corridor. Thick sheets
of pale fungus and mold cake most of the rough stone, as well as a thick, dry smear of black slime. The passageway is not level with the corridor. In fact, it descends noticeably.
At the entrance to the new corridor Lantesh stops for a moment and takes in the air to notice anything amiss.
Speaking in jungle tongue, "Can someone rid these manacles from my arms. They preventing me from helping you.", lifting up her hands to show off the manacles.
Ghosting silently out of the darkness , Eadfaas taps Therudrim lightly on the thigh (about as high as he can reach without looking silly). He then puts his finger to his lips, and whispers, in the language of Halflings, "Later. For now, we escape death, then we escape chains."
Then he quietly whispers to the others as well, this time in the trade language. "The sooner we can get these chains off of folk, the better."
He then steps back into the shadows as best he can, keeping an eye out for potential tools to help remove chains, as well as anything that might be useful - or dangerous - as they go.
Rÿarkaelin could still hear the echoes of the battle behind them, but remained focused on their present circumstances. She leaned in close to the black smear, taking an audible sniff as she examined it without touching it with her manacled hands.
Disregarding the mold and smear, Rÿarkaelin peered into the depths of the right-hand passage.
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Rÿarkaelin could still hear the echoes of the battle behind them, but remained focused on their present circumstances. She leaned in close to the black smear, taking an audible sniff as she examined it without touching it with her manacled hands.
[dice=new Knowledge check: dungeoneering this time]1d20+7
Disregarding the mold and smear, Rÿarkaelin peered into the depths of the right-hand passage.
Bringing up the rear, Taimon'dow delay's at the entrance, again looking for a way to close the trap door.
There must be some way to close this thing... if closed those pursuers may just overlook the door entirely in the chaos that continues up there. But if they come upon it sitting open like this, they will naturally assume some of the slaves escaped this way...
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As you continue down the corridor, you find yourself in a huge cavern. The cavern floor an uneven jumble of loose stone and fungus, its ceiling rising to a height of nearly a hundred feet above. Glowing fungus grows thick on the walls, bathing the cavern in ugly hues of purple and pale blue. Toppled pillars and mounds of rubble dot the western half of the cave, while to the east a mound of fungus, bones, and rubble rises. At the mound’s apex squats a flat block of stone, with towering strange barren trees, with leather-like thick bark, rising on three sides, their leafless branches twisted and groping toward the ceiling above as if in search for a sun’s warmth they shall never feel. A trickle of what appears to be sludge runs thickly and slowly from a hollow under the flat stone to gather to the northwest of the hill in a swampy pool. Something glitters on the altar-like stone block, but you are too far away to see what it exactly is.
Therudrim looks about the room to see for potential danger and to try to identify the fungus and trees.
Anwyn stops at the entrance of the cavern, her manacles forgotten, staring around her with a look mixed with equal amount of wonder and fear.
This...this is incredible! This reminds me of stories...Mother told me long ago...of places such as this she encountered. I wish...I had paid closer attention to her words.
She glances all around her looking for any signs of danger, though to be honest how could she tell the difference?
Trailing the party, Eadfaas doesn't have a good look at the room. He may be too busy looking behind.
Taemon'dow peers around, both ahead and after the group. Seeing the object on the alter ahead, he squints, attempting to take in the details.
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Therudrim looks about the room to see for potential danger and to try to identify the fungus and trees.
[dice=Perception]1d20+10
[dice=Knowledge (nature)]1d20+5
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Anwyn stops at the entrance of the cavern, her manacles forgotten, staring around her with a look mixed with equal amount of wonder and fear.
This...this is incredible! This reminds me of stories...Mother told me long ago...of places such as this she encountered. I wish...I had paid closer attention to her words.
She glances all around her looking for any signs of danger, though to be honest how could she tell the difference?
[dice=Perception]1d20+9
Anwyn places a hand on Alan's shoulder to get his attention, her manacles clanking softly. Her voice echoes softly yet with a note of urgency underneath it to get the other's attention. "We are not alone here. I see tracks at the altar leading to that passageway." She raises her hands to point at the southwest passageway.
Speaking softly in jungle tongue, "I see cave passages leading off, and the south eastern passage seems clear of rubble."
Alerted by Anwyn, Alan tries to discern the nature of the black slime.
And failing to see anything in the gloom, he looks to others with keener senses, hoping they could determine what made those tracks.
Rÿarkaelin nodded to Therudrim and Anwyn, and approached the south eastern passage carefully, looking for any sign of danger from the southwest as well as her chosen path. "If we wish to get away, let those who follow us worry about the tracks," she opined quietly.
Taemon'dow approaches the group, catching up from the rear.
"There is no way to close the portal from the inside; if such a mechanism once existed, it is gone now. Once the slaughter up top is complete, the victor, whomever that might be, will invariably come after us. We'd best make haste."
Taemon'dow approaches the alter slowly and warily, getting a bit closer in order to identify the sludge, and the shining object upon the alter.
After moving past the bottom of the stairs, Yardiff Bey continues deeper with the others, gazing about at the ancient stone work
Very old I think, though I've seen much older back in the Empire
Wrinkling his nose at the slime and sludge, being more used to the dusty sere ruins of his homeland, Yardiff Bey nonetheless follows the tall, white skinned elf as he approaches the altar; his own curiosity piqued;his senses alert.
Perception
Eadfaas nodded at the big, bloody elf's words. As the others moved into the cavern, he made himself as small as possible, and kept hie eyes on the trail behind them, ready to warn of any followers. He kept his fingers wrapped around one of the rocks in his pocket.
Nervous, the little gnome seemed to spend more time checking on what his companions were doing than actually looking into the darkness...
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Rÿarkaelin nodded to Therudrim and Anwyn, and approached the south eastern passage carefully, looking for any sign of danger from the southwest as well as her chosen path. "If we wish to get away, let those who follow us worry about the tracks," she opined quietly.
[dice=Perception]1d20+12
[dice=Knowledge:dungeoneering]1d20+7
When the others didn't follow immediately, Rÿarkaelin called back in a whisper, "Whoever made these tracks may have been carrying something heavy, or have been heavy themselves. Perhaps they did not get far with such weight."
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Taemon'dow approaches the group, catching up from the rear.
"There is no way to close the portal from the inside; if such a mechanism once existed, it is gone now. Once the slaughter up top is complete, the victor, whomever that might be, will invariably come after us. We'd best make haste."
Taemon'dow approaches the alter slowly and warily, getting a bit closer in order to identify the sludge, and the shining object upon the alter.
Anwyn moves silently behind the Caransil elf, trying to keep her manacled hands from clanking too loudly. "If you are correct then they must not be far from here. Whatever he or she may be, I do not believe they would appreciate out intrusion in what must certainly be their territory."
Anwyn moves silently behind the Caransil elf, trying to keep her manacled hands from clanking too loudly. "If you are correct then they must not be far from here. Whatever he or she may be, I do not believe they would appreciate out intrusion in what must certainly be their territory."
"Should they object," Eadfaas whispered, "feel free to direct them to the complaints department - just upstairs." The little gnome flashed a grin.
Rÿarkaelin considered this. "I do not believe they would be amenable to your suggestion," she said to Eadfaas in a completely serious (but quiet) tone. Turning to eye Taemon'dow and Yardiff Bey, she added, "Let us find what there is to find here together, and be gone quickly, before they come after us. They will not tire, so it is essential to gain a head start."
Seeing Taemon stopping before the altar, Alan approaches him and inspects the corpse and this sword.
"We should hurry away, but since this corpse is the only one holding a proper weapon, we should try and taking it with us."
Having said that, Alan slowly reaches for the blade, mindful not to touch anything else or activate any traps.
Yardiff Bey eyes sitting corpse, his hand rising instinctually in a warding gesture common in the slums of his home city.
Seeing Alan's intent , Yardiff Bey's eyes dart here and there, seeking any tell-tales of traps set and active.
Perception
Therudrim stands briefly to observe the crowd dispersing about the room, Rÿarkaelin and dark skin elf heading to the south eastern passage, while Yardiff, the pale elf and dark hair human going to the mound, while seeing the gnome sneaking about. She decides to go with Rÿarkaelin, trying to move as quiet as possible, yet still looking out for dangers.
Holding it in hands, Alan looks the sword more closely, trying to see if there are any symbols, details or anything else on the sword. He also tries swinging it in one hands and both hands, and feels the edge of it, wondering if it would be able to cut through the chains without getting damaged.
[ooc]weaponsmithing
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Alan fails to determine the origin of the blade, since it does not bear a maker's mark or any other symbol. The weapon behaves differently than any other he ever held in his hands. It is obvious to him that it would be impossible to use it with one hand, as it's quite difficult to use it even with two, but with some training manageable. The edge of the blade seems almost supernaturally sharp, though.
Anwyn turns her attention away from the newly discovered passageway and back to the mound where Alan had headed before. Placing a hand on Lantesh's arm to hold him back from moving away, she turns to face her oldest friend.
On seeing the unusual sword he was holding, her eyes widened in surprise. "By the Spirits, where did you FIND that sword?" After she sees the altar a look of realization dawns on her face. "Do you think stealing such a priceless weapon is a WISE action?"
While remaining with Rÿarkaelin, she looks about for something to help rid her manacles, speaking softly in jungle tongue, "Have you seen anything to remove these manacles?"
"Normally, I wouldn't desecrate anyone's resting place, but also I do not think that we have the luxury of being respectful if we wish to survive. This weapon is far from perfect, but is the only one we have, and I do not wish to encounter a single thing down here without a single weapon among us."
And as if he was able to understand Therudrim, Alan touches the edge of the blade very lightly with his thumb.
"And this sword looks wickedly sharp after spirits know how long a time. It just might cut through our chains without getting damaged. Lantesh, hold hands as wide as you can and spread the chains on the ground between them."
Lifting the unfamiliar blade a bit awkwardly as he says this, he swings hoping that he will not slice anything that is not steel.
Lantesh looks between Alan and the unfamiliar blade hesitantly. With what sounds like an affirmative grunt Lantesh pulls his hands as far apart as he can and places them on the ground.
Looking up at Alan he nods.
Yardiff Bey winces and turns his head slightly as Alan picked up the strange weapon; he'd heard enough stories of the dangers of grabbing unfamiliar weapons from sleeping guardians...
Seeing that the man was unharmed, Yardiff Bey straightened and took up a position behind the strange feline man, he own manacles ready to be broken.